[stylist] Flirting with Monday chapter 17

[Shelley J. Alongi]

Respite.
Flirting with Monday

Chapter 17 

 

"glen." 

 

Judy's soft, midrange voice broke the gentle silence that hung around us on that lazy, Sunday afternoon before I went back to work and we walked through that next year together. I moved next to her, turning my gaze to look into her face. She caressed my hand, letting her fingers play with mine, rubbing at some paint that hadn't come off from painting the fence in Astoria. We sat together on a rock overlooking the beach. We had stopped the car just outside of a small coastal town and climbed up a small hill to enjoy the view. I gave Judy my hand and helped her onto the rock. That had been hours ago, it seemed. Judy's head had drifted to my shoulder and I hadn't moved away, my gaze wandering out over the blue water, the white milky clouds looking as if they chased each other like children across the sky. Now she spoke my name quietly.

"Hold me?" she said tentatively. "I love to be next to you." 

 

Judy's body next to mine was warm and quiet, comforting, reassuring, but not so sensual as to arouse me to further desires. I moved slightly and turned her so that I could hold her quiet figure in my arms, her head eased on my shoulder, her gentle hand on my hand, one around my back. 

 

"Okay?" I wanted to know.

 

"Thank you." 

 

"What's the matter Judy Flower?"

 

"nothing," she said happily. "I just want you to hold me. I want to remember this feeling. I just want to remember that we're together. You're not sick and upset. We're just here watching the sky." 

 

A train horn in the distance made me tense. Judy squeezed my hand.

 

"The fever," she said to me. "It gets you every time."

 

I laughed into Judy's hair. My cheek lay on her soft golden curls, I could feel her warm, breathing body.

 

"Since I was a child," I explained. "It's always been like that." 

 

I didn't feel like talking. Sandy had called me quiet glen while we were back in Astoria. I didn't always want to talk and to answer questions about trains or anything else. Sometimes I just wanted to sit and enjoy the view, or think of nothing. Today, after the hectic weeks with my family, after burying my father, I wanted to sit here and feel calm. I wanted to be with Judy Flower with no reason for being with her, just because she was here. I squeezed her hand and said nothing. She looked into my face and her eyes told me she knew I was content. It was like being in a calm before a storm, a calm that made me feel better than I had in months. It seemed we were always dealing with a crisis, but today, the hours passed slowly, the breeze gently eased through her curls and I breathed easily.  We both watched some gulls flying into the shore.

 

"A storm," she said quietly. 

 

I nodded. Judy cuddled up next to me, ran her fingers along my back. Her hands eased and quieted me. My eyes swept the sky, another train horn gave me chills. Judy looked up at me with such love I hugged her tightly, overwhelmed for a moment by healing waves. I could feel myself bonding more with her just sitting here. 

 

"I should take you to my favorite spot in the mountains."

 

"Yes," she said gently, "That would be nice." Judy moved her hand up to my arm, she inspected my fingers. She fitted her hand into mine, careful not to rub the little scabs that were forming from the painting project.

 

There didn't' seem to be much to say. It just seemed right to sit there and watch the flight of birds and watch the clouds. 

 

April was my favorite month. Its warm, gentle breezes spoke of life. The temperate, dry air made exploring outdoors easy and a pleasant experience. I leaned back against an outcropping on the rock, very faintly the sound of waves washing ashore came to our ears. Judy's hair fanned out on my chest, her soft warm cheek caressed my Union Pacific shirt, her body covered its logo, my hands rested gently on her knees. This was entirely different from the first meeting with Elizabeth after our young bodies had noticed each other and responded, coupling on a grassy spot somewhere while Scarlet and Onyx chewed grass and waited for us to finish our meeting. Six weeks after we met while walking our horses we were together and a month later Elizabeth was carrying my child. If I didn't' think about the fact that I had a daughter from that first frantic coupling I could breathe easily, feeling the trust building, looking out over the top of Judy's head to see the clouds and hear the waves washing gently ashore. I inhaled a deep breath of the fresh, clean air here, and let it out in a long, deep sigh. Judy looked up at me and smiled. A long time passed in silence, both of us embraced by the caressing breeze, the soft sunshine, the easy existence. Later, the wind cooled, freshening, signaling to us what the gulls knew, there was a storm coming to the peaceful coastline. Judy shivered slightly, I hugged her to me protectively. 

 

"Cold?" I asked kindly.

 

"A little."

 

"Shall we go?"

 

"In a bit," she said. "Tomorrow comes too early."

 

"Yes." 

 

"You go back to the train tomorrow."

 

"and you'll be on it?"

 

"In the morning. ON the first one. I'll be in the first car behind you."

 

"Good." 

 

 What I remember most about that evening as I took her hand and helped her to her feet and steadied her was that we didn't talk about me. We just existed together quietly, her hand in mine, our hearts knitting, our love maturing in the golden sunshine of that April day. It didn't' mean our troubles were over. I don't' even think it meant that I was going to suddenly spill my guts about my life before I met her and why I was so reluctant to move us anywhere else. It just meant that I was easing into that and almost willing to share, though it seemed for the moment that I could get away with not doing that. We walked down the hill and back to the car in companionable silence. I helped her into the car and took my place behind the wheel.

 

"DO we have to go back so soon?" Judy asked reluctantly as I started the car. 

 

"No." I looked at my watch. "You want to go further up the coast? We should probably call this a night in about an hour or two. I have to be up at 3:00 in the morning."

 

"I know," she said gently. "Maybe we should just head back. Let's go eat and then you can drive me home."

 

I chuckled low in my throat. Food, trains, movies, they seemed to be our bonding points. A salad sounded nice. I put the car in gear and we headed back toward a nice quiet spot I knew from my travels around the area on different occasions.

 

We ended up back on Judy's porch around 8:00 that evening, the freshening breeze signaling nightfall in the desert. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. Judy came to me and hugged me quietly.

 

"Thank you," she said. "This was fun. It was nice. It will be good to see you back on the train tomorrow."

 

"I'm happy to be back," I said, my heart easy. I stood there in the quiet evening, looking at her intensely.

 

"Judy," I said finally. "I'm going to try to be," I searched for words, "to be more fun."

 

"More fun?" she laughed softly, that little bell-like laugh making my heart race ever so slightly. "More fun? Glen you're always fun. You mean something else."

 

"I mean more fun," I insisted. "I've taken too much," I said. "I want to give back. I want to be less afraid." 

 

Judy put her head up, I leaned in for the kiss, one that lasted longer than any of them had lasted till now. I explored her mouth with mine, tasted her dessert, eased myself away, her eyes sparkled as my moustache tickled her. She laughed a little. Her laugh made me smile. I traced her lips with my fingers, feeling their fullness, tasting her kiss.

 

"Glen," she said easily. "Go, honey. Go. I will see you in the morning."

 

"Coffee?" I asked tentatively. "5:00 in the morning." 

 

"A date with an engineer?" She tickled me under the chin as if I were her pet. "No sugar. Black. Hot. And early. Good night Mr. Train Engineer." 

 

She turned toward her door and I laughed easily. It had been a good day. Life was going in the right direction.

Shelley J. Alongi 
Home Office: (714)869-3207
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"What sparked your interest in trains?"
"The face of an engineer who knew he was going to get killed by a freight train."
---SJA for anyone who wants to know
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 24, 2009