[stylist] Flirting with Monday chapter 12

[Shelley J. Alongi]

Flirting with Monday

Chapter 11

 

Judy survived another week of my replacement engineer and finally a week and a half after being felled by this sinus infection I climbed back into that cab restored to my former cheerful self. Judy smiled at me as I got out of my car and headed for the café to get my coffee. She came running up to meet me. Her eyes danced.

 

"Glen! Everyone missed you."

 

"Did you talk to Rob my replacement? Make friends with him too?"

Judy danced like a child as we made our way through the parking lot. I couldn't help smiling.

"I tried," she admitted, "But it was kind of like pulling teeth. But he said hello to me when I came running up on Friday. He asked when you were coming back."

"He's probably glad I'm coming back. Then he can take someone else's route."

 

"Well," she said, flinging her arms around me, ""We're glad you're here."

Judy's movements made me laugh, a maneuver that released some hidden tension, forming my face into a smile. It was little movements like that that made

me want to be with her. 

 

The morning she had awakened in my living room after accidentally falling asleep and after I made breakfast and we cleaned up the dishes she hugged me for a long moment, I relished the feel of her against me, only willing to enjoy that feeling and not go any further. I couldn't; I wasn't ready. We had been over this and Judy was happy to just be here. The cold, wet rain kept me inside and so I did not walk Judy to her car, but she smiled at me and left me to my clean house and my dogs. She also left me feeling better and I went back into the house, refreshed. I looked around and saw it spotless, clean, and welcoming. Judy had added a sparkle to the house that had caught my attention. Somehow I wanted her in it, but not that day. 

 

Now a week later we were off on our morning commuter route. 

 

"Coffee?" I asked her, "I'm going to go get some."

 

She looked at her watch and smiled.

 

"Okay."

 

We sat and watched commuters poor into the station, some carrying briefcases, others talking on cell phones, a man ran into another man looking down at his cell phone display, spilling coffee and drawing a curse. I, the engineer, secretly reveled in the life scenes being played out. I would drive these people and their mishaps to their day's work. If they were like this on the train or before getting on it what would they be like at work? I had to chuckle a little, people would be people I suppose. Even train engineers are subject to their own mishaps.  

 

"You're working today, right?" I asked Judy, tasting the weak coffee and wishing I had had sense to make my own brew this morning before saying goodbye to Magnet, Angel, and Vincent. She set down her cup and took a bite of her apple muffin.

 

"Morning hours today, off early afternoon we don't have such pressing business," she said. "I'll be out by 3:00."

 

"You're taking the afternoon train back here?"

 

"I'll probably make the 4:05," she said, "I have to run some errands."

 

"Judy, always so productive."

 

"No one else to do it," she smiled at me. "Just me. The cats aren't any help."

"Do you think the cats would mind if I took you to dinner?" 

"Tonight?" 

I nodded, looking at my watch. 

"No, I don't think they would mind," Judy smiled. "You have time today?"

"Between 4:00 and 6:00." 

"That could be cutting it close," she said. "I'll give you a call. Or just meet you here by the railroad tracks. I always have to run to catch that train."

"Judy," I sighed, "you're always running."

"I do run a lot," she said, "That's because those trains never wait! And I'm always a little hurried. It's why I like being with you so much. I can relax."

"I relax you?"

"You do relax me, glen. I think I mentioned that earlier at the New Year's day party. You're not in a hurry."

"I'm not in a hurry?" I was surprised at Judy's admission. I had always thought she was never in a hurry. Certainly she didn't seem in a hurry to rush our relationship, she just seemed to be quietly confident in being my friend, even if I did see her running most days to catch my train. "Speaking of catching the train," I said turning my wrist to look at my watch, "I've got to go."

"That means me, too," Judy said getting up hurriedly. She came to me and hugged me briefly. I found myself wanting to linger here with her, to hold her, but she was right, someone was always waiting for the train. 

"Don't forget this," I said a little shyly, handing Judy her red bag.

"Oh, Glenn, you're a doll. I told you I was always in a hurry! Goodbye Mr. Train Engineer! See you in a minute!"

Judy ran for the train, leaving me smiling and chuckling. I was driving that train, she wasn't going anywhere without me. I picked up my cup and tossed it in the trash as I ran to report to my post. NO reason for making Judy Flower late this morning. It occurred to me as I headed out to my side of the track and climbed up into that cab that she hadn't said yes or no to dinner. I didn't know if she was going to meet me at the railroad tracks or not. I would have to call her, or just wait. I climbed into the cab and smiled. I would wait. 

 

It felt good sitting with Judy by the railroad tracks on the planter. It was a little busy, my colleagues pulled in and out of the station, waving at Judy and me, smiling as they pulled out, on their way to deliver passengers and freight to far flung locations. I sat with her small, soft hand in my large one, looking. Judy had called earlier to say she was going to be late that we probably couldn't make dinner but she could meet me by the railroad tracks. I brought roast beef sandwiches from the café and she was grateful. She was on her way home I was on my short break before the last half of my day.

"I want to ask you a question," I said to Judy, breaking into her thoughts. She turned her gaze to me, but before I could answer we both looked as we heard the strident notes on the horn on an approaching freight and then we were surrounded by the clattering train. I couldn't see who operated the train, I probably wouldn't have known them anyway. My UP days were far behind me, but you never knew. Railroading was a small world, everyone knew everyone else, they had either worked with us or dispatched us somewhere or ridden in the locomotive with us. Chances are if I didn't know who this engineer was that person probably knew someone who knew me. I looked at Judy, she had grasped my hand a bit tighter.

"Those trains," she explained, "Sometimes they give me the chills."

"Afraid of the trains?" I asked quietly.

"NO. Not afraid of them. Just a little I don't' know how to explain it."

"Awe struck," I tried to help her.

"I think respectful," she said. "Stay a safe distance from them."

"We're very close," I said.

"I know. It's part of the lure I think. Just respecting the trains." 

"I used to operate those trains," I volunteered. "Three years I operated freights after I was a brakeman and a conductor. Worked for UP four years." 

"Here? You operated them here?"

"All across the country," I said. "Nebraska. Oregon. Pennsylvania. Texas. Illinois. Everywhere." 

Judy looked at me with admiration, something close to the look I had seen when I lay sick on my couch and I had caught her gazing at me. This time, here by the tracks, under the watchful eye of the red and green signals, and the overwhelming power of the trains, that look didn't seem so frightening. I rubbed Judy's hand, caressed her fingers. She was starting to get to me. Wisely, Judy didn't say anything; she let me be alone with my thoughts, my agonies, my budding admiration for her. She only sat there and looked at me. Then she looked away from me. She picked up my left hand and turned it to see my wristwatch. She sighed with relief.

"Are you going to be late?" I asked her.

"NO. I'm done for the day. I just don't want you to be late."

"I won't be late," I said. "I won't." 

If there hadn't been a group of rail fans that suddenly appeared at the end of our planter, and a couple of commuters who looked lost, I may have hugged Judy right then and there, but as it was, I didn't and we sat together, just looking, she in one direction and me in the other. I got up, putting Judy's hand on the bricks and approached a woman who looked confused. She couldn't decide where to board her westbound train. I walked with her over to the other side and just in time because her train came and I saw her safely aboard. The conductor knew me and waved.

"Get your engineer started," I said, "someone's probably waiting for him at the station." 

"We have a red signal," he explained.

"Oh. I didn't even notice." 

"yeah," the conductor said. "You better notice those things, Glenn." The conductor punched my shoulder playfully. "That's kind of important."

"I wasn't operating the train," I defended myself. "I was helping this lady a first time commuter kind of confused."

"Glenn," my friend said, "You're always helping someone out. Good for you." 

An east bound freight shrieked passed us. I stepped out of the door. He would have the signal soon and the train would be on its way. I waved goodbye to my friend and we were both off. 

 

I returned to Judy who still sat there looking off into the distance.

"Hey," I said, squeezing her shoulder. "Are you bored?"

"Bored? NO, not at all, Glenn. Not at all. I'm just looking off at that train. You are always so helpful." 

"That lady looked lost."

"Yes she did. It's one reason I like you."

I sat down next to her again and we were quiet.

"Judy," I asked suddenly. "Are you hoping I'll fall in love with you? Because I don't' know if I can do that." 

"Glenn," she said, looking at me, "Can I say something? Please don't run away from me. Please. Glenn you are in love with me." 

I did want to run, but I took Judy's hands, tears came into my eyes.

"I know," she said. "I know there's something. Please don't be afraid. The only way I'll go is if you ask me to go, Glenn. It's a chance I take. I'm right here, baby." 

I couldn't explain why tears came into my eyes or why they suddenly silently dripped down my cheeks. This was not the time or the place for this discussion and yet she had touched the painful spot and gently pulled the truth out of all my confusion. I was in love with her. If she had been aggressive, if she had made me admit it, if she had pushed even one step further that night I would have told her to go. But I couldn't. first of all it was almost time for me to resume my run and second of all I really didn't want to tell her to go. I could feel the ripping of another scar tissue layer away from my protective cocoon. Suddenly there weren't any commuters with us and Judy took her hands and held my face, she kissed my cheek, she gently pulled back and turned over my left hand, looking at my watch and then at a ragged scar that ran across my pinky and over my knuckles.

"Car coupling," I choked painfully. "That's how I got that scar." 

"Working for UP?"

I nodded.

"It has something to do with UP," she said gently. "Either that or just before UP."

"What does." 

"The thing that bothers you." She caressed my cheek.

"Glenn," she said gently, "Just sit here. Let's not go there. Just sit here. Watch trains. Hold my hand. Be easy. Just be my friend. It's all you can do. It's all I need. I need your calm."

Judy needed whatever I was giving her just like I somehow needed her strength. 

"Judy," I whispered and then I did reach out and I did hug her. I buried her head on my chest. I sat quietly holding this amazing girl, feeling her heart beat. I don't know what she ever did to make me fall in love with her. Maybe she was only herself. That must have been all it took. Judy separated herself and looked into my face, into my dry, quiet eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "I needed that hug. I should probably go," she said. "I should get home and feed the cats."

"And I should get to work," I said, getting to my feet. I put out my hand and helped Judy to her feet. 

"I won't be on the train tomorrow," Judy said, but somehow it didn't matter. Everything was safe; she hadn't cracked the wall, only breeched the barrier. I was safe behind that wall, slowly coming out from behind it, but still safe.

"You won't be on the train?"

"No. I have the day off. Our hours are being cut this week so I'm only working three days. So I won't see you till Wednesday."

"Okay," I said, somehow disappointed. "Then I'll see you on Wednesday." 

 

We stood there for a moment as someone passed us, the click of high heels echoing on the cobblestone path beside the tracks. 

 

"Judy," I said, "I'll miss you." 

She looked up at me and a smile tickled the corner of her mouth.

"You be good," she said. "Be yourself. I'll be thinking of you." 

___
Shelley J. Alongi 
Home Office: (714)869-3207
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updated September 13, 2009