[stylist] Flirting with Monday chapter 9

[Shelley J. Alongi]

Chapter 9

 

By the time we got Angel settled in to her basket for the night with a ticking clock beside her and a warm towel wrapped around her Judy and Debby were involved in a deep conversation, you would have thought they had been friends forever. Debby had smiled in delight when I came to the door, Judy trailing behind me. She stepped up and introduced herself when we got into the house, peeking with curiosity at the small cardboard box in her hand. 

"So this is Glen's new baby?" she said, winking at me. "You're going to have your hands full." 

I smiled, trying to stave off the affects of the medicine. I wished Debby had called first before coming. Since ingesting the necessary medicine to keep myself from suffering too greatly through the approaching night I knew I wouldn't have much time. Debby didn't seem to mind. She took one look at me, winked at Judy and handed me the box.

"You look a little peaked," she said to me, "let's get her settled in so I can leave you in peace." 

We had done that, and now Angel curled on her side in her white, soft, touchable fur seemed comfortable enough. She had a little space in the garage, a small cage where her basket sat, warm against the cool fall evening. 

"I wanted to come today," Debby explained, "because it's supposed to rain tonight hard and most of the night and those approaching clouds look ominous. I'm glad you let me come tonight Glenn, Angel was looking forward to meeting you." 

"She's beautiful," I agreed. "I think Vincent and Magnet will like her very much."

Vincent and Magnet were locked in their enclosure on the other side of the garage, sitting by the bars looking out, sniffing the air, huddling together against the intruder. I went to their side of the garage and unlocked it, Magnet immediately went to the new puppy and started sniffing around the bars. Vincent came to me and wrapped himself around my legs.

"Okay," I said, rubbing my eyes. "I know you think it's time to go to bed."

Somehow I had lost the battle about keeping Vincent out of my bed. Magnet only came around the bed occasionally and looked, then went away to explore the rest of the house or climb into her whicker basket with a white fleece blanket and curl up for the night. Angel would be in her own bed for a while but soon she would make her wishes known. She would either sleep with me or not. 

 

I stepped away from Vincent who looked up at me with disgust and went back toward the house. Magnet nudged him and followed us back inside. Debby and Judy brought up the rear. A cold, wet wind met us as we took the short path between the garage and the back door. Going back into the house this way was quicker than walking around the side of the house and entering through the front door. Little needles pricked our skin as the wind cut through my thin shirt, making me shiver.  The glass door clicked quietly into place, the warmth of the house reaching out to embrace us. I gave an audible sigh, catching my breath.

"February can get cold," I said. "Burr! At least the dogs are warm."

"And you should be in bed," Debby said, getting her keys. "I'm getting out of here. I've got a drive and you know Californians can't drive in the rain." She said this in a good humored way as she gathered up her purse and the box. She hugged Judy and gave her a sisterly kiss on the cheek.

"It was nice to meet you, sweetie. I didn't know Glenn had such a jewel! He doesn't tell me everything!" 

She winked at me and hugged me, too, her energy wearing on my nerves, but her spirit always infectious, somehow I smiled.

"Take care of the kids!" she said, opening the door and quickly closing it behind her before another blast of wind and hard pelting rain could get into the house.

 

Debby's sudden exit left me alone with Judy. We stood looking at each other. Judy came over and petted Vincent who sniffed her hand. Then she got up and came to me.

 

"I should go, too," she said, looking into my drooping eyes. "You need to go to bed."

 

I nodded. She stood hesitantly, then took my hands, cold from the wind. 

 

"So you never told Debby we were friends?"

 

"No."

 

"Well," she smiled. "I can understand why. She'll be pestering you about me I know it now. She's a great lady." 

 

"I know." 

 

She held to my hands, I pulled her toward me and Judy was in my arms. I buried her there, wrapping my arms about her, putting her head on my chest. I breathed in her coolness, her quiet strength. All I wanted from Judy now was a hug, just to know she was my friend. The desire I had felt earlier for her was swallowed up in the lethargy induced by the sinus medication but I knew it would be back. I held her for a moment, testing my resolve to want her; somehow I was hesitant. Judy stepped back from me and looked at my face again. 

 

"Glenn," she said. "Go to bed, honey. You're sick and you're tired and I have to get up in the morning. It's cold and rainy and you're afraid. We're friends. Just keep it that way. When you're better we can just see how it goes."

 

"How do you want it to go?" I suddenly asked.

 

"I want it to go like it is now," she said. "I want it to be easy. Quiet. Steady. Not fast, not furious, no sparks. I just want to be around your cheerful self, your smile, those flashing blue eyes, your kindness and energy and all your stories. Is that enough for now?"

 

I stood there, looking down at her, this calm girl who was just willing to accept what I could give. I wondered if at some point she would get angry and impatient and demand more. There was more, but for now, this is what it was. I took her hand and walked her to my door, suddenly racing against the medication. Once I got into bed it would be over, I would be knocked out like a light. I needed to end this and Judy knew it.

 

"Who is taking my run?" I asked as I hugged her and helped her on with her jacket.



"Rob," she said.

 

"Oh."

 

He was not the most liked person out of our replacement pool but he was competent enough.

 

"Motivate me to get better," I said. "Smile anyway. I'm sure he's nice. He's just quieter, more task oriented, more focused, not so interactive. But he knows what he's doing." 

 

Judy opened the door, and nodded. She smiled at my assessment of the replacement engineer. A gust of wind swept into the house, momentarily waking me from my drowsiness, Judy stepped back and caught her breath.

 

"Okay," she said, waving to me. "I'll call you tomorrow." 

 

"I'll wait for your call, Judy," I assured as the door closed behind her, shutting out the unkind night. 

  

I probably should step back a little bit and tell you how Judy and I got to the point where I could invite her into my house when I clearly didn't want company. Even if I was in a bad mood that second morning I had the nasty sinus infection, by the evening I had started to open just a little bit more, but it had not come so easily, even if Judy's friendship did please me. A year before I met Judy I started working for the passenger railway, and I had to find a place to call home. I had been on the run for so long, living in motels, renting apartments for short periods of time, that finally after all those years, it was just time to settle down in one place. I had been renting a small place near the station in order to make getting to and from work easier. I considered myself lucky I didn't have to drive an hour to work. A small place a little further out would suit me nicely, so I began bringing home newspaper adds and going online to find places for sale. Driving out to see houses was not a very pleasant task, and most of them left me unimpressed. I didn't want to plunk down a good chunk of my money for a house that didn't call my name so I kept looking. Six months after I started searching, I found that eighteen hundred square foot house set off the corner of Cleveland Avenue, tucked among some other houses separated by little squares of lawn. In the back yard the property lines were separated by fences with the lawns facing back to back so that if a person was so inclined they could have a conversation with their neighbors or say hello over morning chores. There was quite a bit of space in those back yards. It was where we had our barbecue after I had finally found what I looked for in the advent of Judy Flower. Sometimes Angel and Magnet and Vincent romped wildly out there. I had a little table and chairs out there before I built the one I told you about earlier. Sometimes I sat out there to rejuvenate after an exhausting week. I went out there a lot after I started seeing Dr. Lee Meadows. I'd go out there and just collapse. NO one could see me lose it. Believe me I lost it plenty of times out there. Angel and Magnet hovered near me, sometimes sitting against my ankles, rubbing their heads on my legs. They'd usually end up in my lap, Angel would whimper and lick my face. I guess she liked the taste of tears. Sometimes I'd just sit out there and watch the moon come up, or watch clouds slip quietly across the sky. If I had reading for work to do I'd bring it out there. So in some ways the house was a retreat from all my stresses, real and imagined. By the time Monday came around I would be okay again I could deal with my work and genuinely be happy to see my regulars, but the weekends were sometimes trying affairs, and sometimes they weren't hard at all. If I went away for the weekend to different places I'd come back and there it would be, the little white house trimmed with gold paint just waiting. Something drew me, maybe it was the compact style, the neat lawn, the clean sidewalk, maybe it was the gold paint. I did go and look at the other house just to be fair to all my work, and then I called Sally Brown, the lady whose name was on the sign, and she met me on a Saturday and showed me the house on Cleveland Avenue. 

 

I walked into the open foyer and went down the step into the living room, saw the open kitchen with the hard wood floors and the curving stairway and knew this was my house. Several offers had been made on it and I put mine right up there. I walked out of Sally's office with my heart in my mouth. I knew I'd have to wait. It was a cliff hanger for a while, I'd get home at night and hear messages on my voicemail telling me to submit my counter offer. The headaches with the realtor and the mortgage broker made me dizzy sometimes. On the way home from work, I'd drive down Cleveland Avenue and look at that house just to remind me of how much I wanted it. It would be late at night, I'd wonder if the police or the neighbors were curious about a gold Toyota sitting out in front of 2941 Cleveland Avenue, but no one ever bothered me and I never stayed there long. 

 

Finally, on a Wednesday a month after seeing the house, I went back to my apartment near the train station on an afternoon break, checked my messages, fed myself and grabbed some shut-eye. The message buoyed my spirits making me a very happy man. The owner and the bank had accepted my offer and I could pick up the keys after I signed the papers. How soon could I get into the office to sign the papers? As far as I was concerned, not soon enough, but I had to wait till Saturday. 

 

It was into this little house, now with an entry rug and a few train pictures and mountain scenery on my walls, the train clock, a coffee pot, and all the other items I had managed to get in the last year that Judy Flower came the Sunday after the new Year's party. I stood on my porch, a gentle breeze wafted through the leaves of the evergreen on the city side of the lawn. I held Magnet's leash in my hand, holding her back from her exuberant greeting. Two teenaged kids skateboarded down the front sidewalk, one of them waved at me, his name was Matthew Martinez. I remembered one time he had come up to me shyly and asked if I was a train engineer. Yes, I was, I said. His eyes got very big. "I want to do that," he said. I laughed, the bond was struck. "Well, you will," I assured him. "Don't worry. Just work hard you'll get there." He waved at me all the time now, some of his friends waved, too. Now as Judy pulled into my driveway Matt and two of his friends waved and passed. Judy stepped out of her car, drawing Magnet's attention, her shrill bark pierced the air.

"Easy girl," I soothed, petting her neck. "Hey. I'll put you in the back."

 

"Don't do that, Glenn." 

 

I looked up surprised. I hadn't seen Judy come up the pathway that curved through the small neat lawn that wound its way to the porch. 

 

"I like her. We're friends." 

 

Judy let Magnet sniff her ankles. I held her off. "No," I said. "Don't jump on her. No." 

The greeting was friendly enough. Suddenly I stood there shyly, I had been upstaged by a white collie.

"Remember me?" I said, smiling a little. 

Judy laughed at that, she came up to me. I put my arms out, we hugged briefly. "Come on in. Lets go take her out to the back and then we'll go in through the patio door." 

I led Judy around the side of the house, through the garage door, kicking a box of nails and some rope out of the way to create a path to the concrete entrance to the spacious yard. My gardener had done a nice job trimming back the little white bushes whose names I hardly knew. Splotches of green gave the once lifeless lawn a more live look. 

 

Judy stood on my patio, looking at the wrought iron railing that separated the cement area from the lawn. She leaned against the railing and looked out to the back fence.

 

"Nice little place," she said. "It's you."

 

"Really?"

 

"yeah," she said, sure of herself. "Kind of quiet. A nice place to get away from all those commuters."

 

"I don't' mind them," I said, standing a safe distance from her, looking out at the same patch of white painted brick fence. 

 

"You said you were going to make dinner," she said into the quietness that surrounded us. I wouldn't say the silence was awkward. "I'd say it was hesitant. I didn't want to physically move this relationship past the point we had been at the party, just hand-holding. A younger, shyer glen had fallen readily into Elizabeth's arms, an older, more hesitant, hurt and more cautious Glenn stood here, just letting time pass. 

 

"I did," I said still looking out at the back yard. "Are you hungry already?" 

 

Judy laughed easily, it made my heart melt just a little bit more. 

 

"I'm not hungry, Glen," she said turning and smiling. "I just remember you said you were going to make it. It's nice out here, I'm in no hurry." She watched a bird fly lazily over to my fence and perch on its top, preening its feathers in the warm sunshine. "Oh, but I did bring wine," she continued after a moment. "Red wine." 

I turned my head to look at Judy, she wore a red and white checkered blouse and skirt. 

 

"You sure like red.," I said. "You bring red wine, you are wearing red, and it's the color of your bag you take on the train." 

 

"Yes, it is," she said surprised. "I didn't know you noticed." 

 

"I noticed."

 

Judy turned her green eyes to looked at me thoughtfully, her soft, quiet gaze resting on my hands lying on the railing. The gold of my class ring glinted in a ray of sunlight. She looked at it for a moment then back at the bird on the fence. 

 

Show me the house?"

 

"Of course," I said, turning my attention to her, glad for the distraction. "Forgive my negligence."

 

"Negligence?" she said easily. "I'm just curious about your house."

 

"Curious if I can keep up with it?"

 

"Can you?"

 

"I try to. I like it."

 

"That's what's important" she said, looking at my patio, the round table and two chairs, a mop, a tool kit that I sometimes used on weekends, a few dog leashes, and a TV tray. "It's important that you like it." 

 

I gave her the tour, the two bedrooms, the nice size bathroom, a living area, kitchen and dining room, and then the second story, another bedroom and bath, and the closet for the forced air conditioning unit.  

The tour ended up in the living room with both of us sitting in safe places, she in a big green recliner and me on the green couch. She looked about her, took in my few family pictures, the train clock, the coffee table with a few rail magazines. She got up and went to the coffee table, picking up a copy of Railways magazine. 

 

"You do like trains," she said.

 

I nodded. 

 

"Those are old steam engines," I explained, pointing to a picture that had caught her attention. "museum pieces. I'd sure like to get my hands on one of those." 

 

She sat back, looking through the pages, and then laid it aside and closed her eyes.

 

"Are you going to sleep?" I asked.

 

"No," she said. "I'm just relaxing. It's so peaceful here." 

 

Suddenly I sat back, too. Tonight I wasn't going to worry about what Judy didn't know about me. 

 

"so," Judy said breaking the silence, a silence I was willing not to worry about, "what did you make for dinner?" 

 

"Chicken and broccoli casserole," I said. She looked surprised. "My mother taught me how to cook," I said. "it's not all about sandwiches for me. I just don't' get time to cook. Besides," I continued, watching her face relax into that pleasant smile and look of acceptance she always gave me, "It was the first thing anyone ever made me when I went to school to be an engineer. Some girl that liked me made it."

 

"SO you do have girlfriends," she said, good-naturedly.

 

"No I never encouraged her she just liked me. She was a friend of one of my classmates." 

 

"Oh Glenn I'm sure someone somewhere liked you you're easy to like." 

 

Judy looked at my blank face, my eyes had gone quiet.

 

"Something you don't want to talk about," she said, holding her arms wide, accepting my silence. "I told you I wouldn't ask. If you ever want to tell me you can. In the meantime, I am hungry."

 

Judy stood in the kitchen rinsing dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. I handed them to her, clearing the table. I was determined to be as casual as possible, I didn't have room in my head for stress over a woman who wore red and who obviously liked me. I was too tired or too old or just too unwilling to pull back those layers of scar tissue to let her into my heart, even if she had seen me cry, or if I had gone out of my way to talk to her over coffee at the railroad café. People were friendly there, I thought, I was a friendly guy. I wasn't going to ignore her. I couldn't ignore her, I thought to myself, she was in my kitchen putting away my dishes.

 

"Glenn I told you something about me on new Year's Day, do you remember it?" she asked, sliding the last plate into the rack and standing up. It was then that I saw how short she was, she had to be at least a foot shorter than me. Her sparkling green eyes danced in her medium dark face. She suddenly stirred something within me, a desire that wouldn't die despite my best efforts to keep our friendship simple. I looked at her, the water beading on her hands as she rinsed them under the curving, brass faucet. She dried her hands and turned the dial on the dishwasher, the spinning of the jets filled the kitchen with a momentary silence. The water began to fill the dishwasher and I remembered her question. 

 

I sat down at the large, square dining table with a cup of coffee I had made for us. Judy joined me with her cup and looked at me.

 

"No," I said, trying to remember. Judy looked at my hands lying on the table, she looked at the scars and then rested her eye on the gold of my class ring.

 

"Astoria High," she said. "I told you I graduated from the same high school you did." 

 

I did remember, retreating back into my shell. A woman who lived here, and me, a man who had driven freight and passengers across country had ended up back in this little town, both had attended the same high school. 

 

"I remember now," I said. "It was something about you were military."

 

"I stayed there for a year," Judy said. "I graduated as a senior there after my parents transferred to be in the coast guard there. So I probably graduated after you left high school." 

 

I looked at Judy again, she didn't look too much older or younger than me. I had graduated and then applied at the railroads, thought I would marry Elizabeth, and then been stood up at my own wedding by a girl who had used me to get a child and then disappear it seemed off the face of the earth.  My hands went clammy. Maybe Judy was planning something similar? A feeling like glass scraping across my heart threatened to undo the pleasantness of the last few hours. I sat back, draining the coffee in my cup. I got up and refilled the cup, composing myself. I had invited her here, I didn't want to run, but damn it maybe she wasn't as friendly as she seemed.

 

"Glenn?" Judy said when I sat down again. "Could I have some?"

 

I reached for her cup and went back to the pot and returned to the table, setting the cup down in front of her.

 

"Is it scary that we graduated the same high school?"

 

"I don't' know," I said. "It's interesting. How many years are you younger than I am?"

 

"How old are you?" 

 

"Forty-three." 

 

"I'm four years younger," she said. "You were long gone from high school when I was there," she assured me. 

 

"I was probably in Nebraska," I agreed. "Working for Union Pacific."

 

Judy sat back in the low chair, its back curving around her, the arms protecting her in my warm kitchen, pleasant, calm, full of chicken, broccoli, and salad. A blue and white platter sat between us holding a white cake sparkling with little red sprinkles. I went to the kitchen and retrieved an eight inch serrated knife, bringing it back and making precise cuts into the cake, my hand guiding the point of the knife effortlessly through the silky smoothness of the frosting and flaky spongy texture of the cake. Judy watched me, her eyes growing large with admiration. 

 

"You're in the wrong business," she teased. "That's some craftsmanship. I'm not much of a cake cutter."

 

I laughed, my insecurity retreating.

 

I just like to cut cakes," I explained. "I've had a lot of practice." 

 

I slid the pieces onto small silver trimmed plates and took my seat again. 

 

"So let me guess," I said, pressing my fork into the white softness of the cream flicking off a red sprinkle onto the plate, "You went to Astoria High School, dated a few coast guard types, graduated and then what?"

 

"Well," she smiled at me warmly, "That's pretty close. My father had a man all picked out for me, but I wouldn't have him. I graduated high school and then applied to colleges for finance and then moved out here to get a job. I lived a pretty ordinary life."

 

"Just making friends with everyone," I said, "the way you just made friends with me."

 

"yeah, something like that," she affirmed. "I had a couple of chances to settle down but I wanted to be in charge. I wanted to be on my own. I'm just that way. Not very exciting, really."  

 

Judy took a break from her explanations to cut into her cake. Her face lighted up when she tasted it. 

 

"Good," I said, half joking and a little serious. "I like that you want to be in charge."

 

"You're the one with the exciting life," she said, "living everywhere and seeing the whole country. I am just a plain old girl." 

 

"I never asked you what you do," I said. "I just take you to the station." 

 

"Yes and a big help that is. You know where I work." She looked at me, remembering the accident at the crossing. "I'm a buyer for my company. I look for deals and submit bids and reports to the boss and give him the checks to sign and purchase supplies. It's pretty number intensive." 

 

"Sounds like a good job," I said. I sat in the chair and finished the coffee in the squat blue cup. Judy looked content as she finished her own coffee, washing down the remains of the white cake. 

 

"Where do you get time to do this?" she asked, looking longingly at the platter. 

 

"Oh, I find time," I assured her. "I find it somewhere in my crazy schedule." 



We went into the living room and sat down. Magnet and Vincent sat in their corners looking at us, as if they approved of our being together. 

 

"What movie does Vincent and Magnet want to see?" Judy asked me as she looked at the glass case that displayed all my titles. "A train movie?" 

 

"NO," I chuckled, "They're tired of those. Action? Adventure? You're not into romance are you?" I asked almost dreading her response. I didn't have any of those movies in that case.

 

"This one," she said. "About animals. I'm not a romance movie person. I'd rather have this one." 

 

We sat back and watched it. We didn't talk much; it was just comfortable, I sat in my recliner and she sat in a rocking chair and we just watched a movie. One thing struck me, one thing that had been different with Elizabeth: Elizabeth was always moving, always pushing our relationship forward. I didn't see that in Judy. Her whole demeanor was peaceful, calm, steady, quiet, refreshing to my heart. I sat back relishing the quiet. This content girl was happy just to be with me. Given my fears and my own insecurities, I was happy to be counted among the people Judy wanted to spend time with: for me, for here, for now, it was enough.


Shelley J. Alongi 
Home Office: (714)869-3207
**
NFBWD "Slate and Style" editor 
http://www.nfb-writers-division.org

**
To read essays on my journey through the Chatsworth train accident, Metrolink 111 or other interests click on http://www.storymania.com/cgibin/sm2/smshowauthorbox.cgi?page=&author=AlongiSJ&alpha=A

updated September 13, 2009