| |
|
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
10:21:38 AM PDT
MISS LADY PG 86
{First page of this story]
MISS LADY - PG 1
T. J. sat in his truck patiently waiting for Laura's best friend Ginny, to answer the phone. She finally answered on the sixth ring.
"Hello."
" Hi, Ginny. It's T. J."
"Well, hi stranger. What's up?"
"Nothing good."
" You sound terrible? What's the matter?"
"There is no easy way to say it, Ginny, except Laura and I aren't getting married. I broke our engagement. "
"Oh, T. J. How horrible. No wonder you sound so down. I don't have to ask why, do I?"
"No! I tried, Ginny. I really did."
"I know you did. But, well, it can't be easy being in love with an alcoholic. I know! I'm her best friend and we've had two falling outs now, this last one almost killing our friendship. But she is crazy about you, T. J. You must know that."
"Yeah. I do. And I'm crazy about her. But she won't get help, just...well, look, Ginny. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it. Okay? I just called to ask for a favor?"
"Anything."
" Would you stop by and check on her? I wouldn't ask except my timing was horrible. I broke our engagement, and ten minutes later her daughter shows up with her two kids."
"Her daughter came to see her? Oh, T. J. that's wonderful!"
"Well, it is, except I think she is quite overwhelmed right now."
"I'll stop by tomorrow. I promise. But.. T. J.?
"What?"
"Is it really over between the two of you? "
There was a long pause after that question, but Ginny understood the reason for it- waited patiently for T. J. to answer.
He was pondering the question, trying to see himself without Laura. He couldn't, so said, so softly that Ginny could barely hear him."She says she's really going to stop drinking this time, that she loves me enough to do it, and herself too."
"Well maybe she will then. "
"I've heard those words a million times, Ginny. But this time ..well, this time something is different. I can only hope."
"And pray, T. J., like you never have before. I'll pray too, okay?"
"Thank you, Ginny. You don't know how much that helps. I've got to go now. Got to get on the road. You'll check on her then, right?"
"I will. "
"But don't tell her I asked you too."
"I won't. Nite. T. J."
" Good night, Ginny."
T. J., after hanging up the phone, lit another cigarette- smoked it while trying to shut out the images that were suddenly filling his mind: Laura, the first time he saw her, the expression that swept across her face when he tipped his hat and called her "Miss Lady; Laura, face flushed after making love, whispering as he held her close, "I love you so much, cowboy....so very much."
He started up the truck, eased it out of the slot he'd parked in, made his way across the Truck Stop parking lot. A few minutes later he was heading east again, to New York. It was quite late so he had the ribboned highway all to himself. He followed the twists and turns of it, remembering the time he was eight, and was going on a family vacation. He was taking his turn sitting in the front seat between his mother and father, and asked his father how long the white line in the road was- how far did it go? Who made the roads? What were they made of?" He smiled, remembering, felt less alone, but was glad there was nobody around to notice that his eyes were shiny, nobody to hear him talk to himself, as he tried to sort out the mess that was his life.
He'd surprised his mother earlier that evening- called her just as she got ready for bed. He hadn't planned on telling her the engagement was off, or how sad he was. But somehow, in less than a minute he was telling her all about it. When he'd emptied his heart out, and she hadn't said anything, he just knew she was smiling - sorry he was hurting- but happy to know he wasn't marrying an alcoholic. She surprised him- said, "If it isn't over in your heart, son, it isn't over."
Her words almost made him cry. When she heard the tears in his voice she did cry. After calming herself she said, "I'm sorry you're hurting so much."
"I'm sorry to trouble you, Mom, sorry that I called so late. "
"That's what children do."
" I'm forty-nine- almost fifty."
"I don't care how old you are. You're still my child. And I'm praying for you, honey, asking the good Lord to bless you and to help Laura."
Her words had comforted him. Not a lot, but enough so that he was able to make it through most of the day. And if he worked hard at it, he supposed he could make it through the night too.
He gave it his best shot, but didn't do well. The later it got, the less traffic there was. And the less traffic there was, the heavier the lonely got- the more he thought about Laura. He couldn't forget the look of disbelief on her face, or the sadness in her eyes- and voice, once she knew he was really saying good bye. He ought not to have kissed her that last time. The memory of it was going to be the death of him.
Copyright 2007
Written by barbpinion
Permalink
| Blog about this entry
|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this
This entry has comments: Add your own
9:49:32 AM PDT
MISS LADY PG 85
{First page of this story}
MISS LADY - PG 1
T. J. had been gone only four hours. But to Laura, it seemed like an eternity.|Every moment that she wasn't talking with her daughter April, or entertaining her grandchildren, she thought about him. And she knew that once the children and her daughter went to bed, there would be no way to shut her mind off. At the moment she was sitting in the living room talking to her daughter, while the children played with the toys they had brought with them. Monique, every once in a while, would glance up at her, her dimples flashing. She looked so much like her mother: the same startling blue eyes fringed with thick lashes, the same oval shaped face. Her hair was thick and curly, the color of root beer- her laugh contagious. She was, at the moment, getting frustrated, because she couldn't button the dress on her doll.
"You do it, Grandma." she said, setting the doll on Laura's lap. Laura buttoned the doll dress, than picked Monique up and held her close, her heart hurting, remembering the time T. J. said, after they'd made love, "Wish we'd met sooner, Miss Lady. I'd love to have a baby with you- a little girl. One who would look just like you."
"You okay, Mom? "April asked, seeing how sad her mother suddenly was.
Laura nodded. She was finding it difficult to not cry, finding it difficult to deal with the enormous sadness building up within her. She wanted a drink. Needed one- and badly.
April, eager to cheer her mother up, said to Monique,
" How about we do something, like maybe go out to dinner."
"Yea! "Michael said, as he set his truck aside. "Can we go to Mc Donald's Mommy?"
"We don't have a Mc Donald's here. "Laura said.
"Well, we could drive to Lancaster, couldn't we, Mom? It isn't that far, is it?"
"No. But aren't you tired after that long trip?"
April smiled. "A little. But I think it would do us all good. Especially you, Mom."
"It'll be tiring for the children- driving again."
"They won't mind. Come on kids. Let's go freshen up." April took her children by the hands and went into the bathroom. Laura, didn't let the opportunity go to waste. She hurried to the kitchen and filled a glass half full of Vodka. She drank it quickly, then put the bottle in a different cupboard, one she knew April wouldn't use. The Vodka burned as it went down, but seconds later, the warm feeling swept over her. The nervousness began to fade away, the fear and the empty feeling too. She went into her bedroom and brushed her hair, put on fresh lipstick, and grabbed her coat. After slipping it on, she stood gazing at the mirror- saw T. J. come up behind her. She felt his arms go around her waist, his hand in her hair- heard him say, "I love you, Miss Lady."
"Ready Mom?"
"Coming." Laura said, swallowing her hurt when the precious moment was interrupted. She didn't really feel like going to Lancaster- would have preferred to get drunk. That's what she preferred. But for her daughter's sake, and the grandchildren, she put on a happy face and chatted all the way to Lancaster, at times making April laugh so hard she finally said, "Mom, stop it. You're going to make me pee my pants."
Mc Donald's turned out to be good for them, just like April said. The children were so cute to watch, to listen too, that Laura made a game out of asking them silly questions just so she could hear them talk.
Michael was sunshine itself. When he smiled, you had to smile too. He was a child with a head full of questions, some that hurt like: Is T. J. coming back, Grandma. Can I ride in his truck again? "
"I'm worried about you, Mom. "April said, hours later, when the children had been put to bed. The two women were sitting at the kitchen table, having coffee.
"I'll be all right. "
"Come on, Mom. You don't have to pretend with me. I saw the way you and T. J. looked at each other. You're crazy about one another, so what happened? Why did he break your engagement? You said he had a right too, or something like that."
Laura took a drink of her coffee, than said, not looking at her daughter, her voice trembly. "He broke our engagement because of me."
April sighed- said, gently- kindly. "That's what you say, Mom. But what does that mean? I don't understand.'
"It means he got tired of putting up with my..." She couldn't say it. Until he'd broken their engagement she'd not allowed herself to be honest about anything. The truth was ugly- something she didn't want to face. She hadn't changed! Not at all! Harvey had divorced her because of her drinking- been given custody of their two children because of her drinking. And now her drinking was costing her the man she loved.
"Mom." April had moved from her chair, was sitting next to Laura now, resting her hand upon her mother's. "Try to tell me, okay? I'm not going to judge you. I promise!"
"Oh April." Laura burst into tears, cried so hard she couldn't speak. April hugged her, and cried too. When Laura's crying began to ease up April wet a washrag, rung it out and handed it to her. Laura held it against her eyes for a few minutes, then set it on the table. "It's my drinking." she said. "It's ..it's destroying my relationship with T. J. just like it did my marriage to your father. "
"But when you wrote me, you told me you weren't drinking as much, that you were going to A. A. meetings. What happened, Mom? Did you stop going?"
"I never went." Laura took a sip of coffee, then shoved the cup aside, and dabbed at hereyes with the wet washrag again. "I wanted too, intended too. I really did. But...but the idea of having to stand in front of strangers and share all that I've done was too overwhelming. Oh, April. The very thought of having to do that terrifies me."
"Do you have todo that?"
" Yes. It's part of the recovery process. " Laura observed her daughter as she sat across from her: the softness of her expression, the compassion in her gorgeous blue eyes, the dainty way she held her coffee cup. Her hair was a deep auburn and rested upon her shoulders. She was twisting a strand of it now, absentmindedly. She looked up at her mother, and asked,"So what are you going to do, Mom? "
"About what?"
"Your life."
" I don't have much of a life now, do I?" Laura said.
"Oh Mom, Don't ..."
" I don't want to talk about it any more, Honey. I'm very tired."
"Okay, Mom. Whatever you say. I'm tired too, will be asleep soon as my head touches the pillow." April picked up the coffee cups and set them in the sink then kissed her mother. "Nite, Mom. Wake me if you need too."
Laura remained sitting at the table, listened to the sounds of April opening and closing doors, the toilet flushing, the sound of her brushing her teeth, her footsteps ...then silence. It fell upon her- was a comfort blanket. She sat quietly, letting it soothe her; sat for almost an hour, until she was certain April was asleep. Then she went into the kitchen, filled a glass with Vodka and drank it- the first half slowly, the last half all at once. She rinsed out her glass and hid the Vodka again, then went to bed, hugging her pillow as she cried herself to sleep.
Copyright 2007
.
Written by barbpinion
Permalink
| Blog about this entry
| Add to del.icio.us | digg this
This entry has comments: Add your own
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
5:03:30 PM PDT
MISS LADY PGE 84
{fIRST PAGE OF THIS STORY}
MISS LADY - PG 1
As T. J. pulled away from Laura's house he didn't allow himself to look back, was unwilling to see what he knew he'd see- Laura crying. He frowned, as he took a drag off the cigarette. Everything seemed so different now. He tried to think of the word he'd read (it was only used in the Bible once he'd been told). What was it? Oh yes. "untoward,"
meaning not going toward anything. He had been going somewhere before he broke his engagement to Laura; had dreams, goals, had his and Laura's life all planned out. But now, it was as if he'd stepped through a time machine. He was back where he was when he broke his engagement to the first woman he loved. He hurt. And far worse than he did then.
Even so, he told himself that some things must be done, irregardless as to how unpleasant they may be. And one of those things was having to stop by "Rick's Bar & Grill" and talk to Hank. He tried not to think of Jordan- hoped he wouldn't be around when he got there. As it turned out, he was. He was coming out of the bar as he parked his truck.
"Your father around?" T. J. asked, when he reached him. He dropped his cigarette and crushed it out with his boot- tried to ignore what he knew Laura probably noticed: like how good-looking the man was- how self-assured, and polished.
"He's inside. "
"How's he doing?"
"Holding his own. Just can't do as much as he once did."
"That's too bad. He must hate that."
"He does. Uh, Laura isn't here, T. J."
"I know. It's your father I want to talk too."
"Oh?
"A private matter, Jordan. Nothing that concerns you."
His voice was cold and angry-sounding, but a sad, lost look was in his eyes. It made Jordan uncomfortable, as if he was seeing something he wasn't supposed to see. He didn't know the man well, but respected him. He and Laura had betrayed him once. Yet he'd found it in his heart to forgive.
"Son?"
Jordan turned when his father spoke. "Sorry, Dad. Got sidetracked. I ran into T. J. as I was leaving. He needs to talk to you."
"If you don't mind, Hank. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."
"Well, sure, T. J. But Jordan, I'll need you to hold off on going to the bank then. I can't talk and wait on customers at the same time."
"No problem, Dad."
The three men entered the bar. Jordan began waiting on customers, and Hank and T. J. sat down at the corner table. Hank leaned back in the chair, folded his arms and observed T. J., not failing to notice how downcast he was, how unfocused. Curious as he was, he sat quietly, knowing
that the man would speak when he was ready too, and not a second before. He observed the slump of his shoulders, how his hands shook a little when he lit a cigarette, and how long it took him to face him directly. He sensed that what he wanted to talk about was Laura- and that the news wasn't going to be good. But he wasn't ready for the first words out of mouth.
"Laura and I aren't getting married, Hank."
The words came out in a rush, as if he couldn't wait to get them said. When his eyes met Hank's there was such anguish there that Hank lowered his eyes- let himself focus on the movements of the cigarette in T. J's hand. Images began flashing across his mind as he sat there: images of Laura's smile whenever she talked to T. J. on the phone; the way she'd tilt her head and rest her hand upon her heart, sigh, and walk around afterward, as if she were walking on clouds; Laura, her laughter ringing out over something T. J. said; Laura, showing off her engagement ring, her joy a contagious thing; Laura, depressed, worried and afraid, whenever T. J. was late calling, or failed to call.
"What happened?"Hank said, making it a point not to look at T. J. directly."
"It was her- it was me. Both of us, I guess."
"But you were so happy, the two of you." Hank's voice carried then, and Jordan glanced toward them, as he handed a customer his drink. He didn't hear all of the conversation, just bits and pieces, as the mens voices rose and fell. He heard more as he served customers sitting near them.
" Laura's drinking is out of control."" The ring, foolish as it may sound, Hank, meant a lot to me." "Never hurt this bad in my life. ""Why? It won't change anything?"
When the two men fell silent, Jordan went behind the bar and began washing glasses and wiping the counter, remaining watchful, unwilling to miss any more than he had too. He became annoyed when the place began to get busier. But even so, when his Father offered to help, he told him no- said that he could handle things. "Besides, T. J. seemed pretty upset when he asked to talk to you."
"He is." Hank replied, sadly.
" Why? What's going on, Dad?"
"He broke his engagement to Laura. And he's feeling bad about having to do it."
"That can't be right. He's crazy about her."
"Nevertheless, it's true." Hank sighed, raked a hand through his hair, said, "Well, if you're sure you can handle things, I'll finish my talk with him."
"The favor?" Hank said, when he was sitting with T. J. again."What is it?"
T. J. watching Jordan at the bar, had a change of heart. "If you don't mind I'll hang around here till you close. I'd like to talk to you and Jordan together."
"Well, sure, if that's what you want." Hank said, more than a little puzzled.
"It is. Would you ask Jordan to bring me a beer?"
"Sure"
T. J. knew the exact moment Hank told Jordan he wanted to talk to him. (because he glanced in his direction, an unreadable expressison on his face). Then, when his father said something else, Jordan looked at him again; only this time he'd have sworn he saw compassion in his face.
"Here you go."he said to T. J., a few minutes later, as he handed him a cold beer."
"Thanks."
"I'm sorry about you and Laura."
"I doubt that."
"Hard to believe, I know. But it's true. Mind if I sit a minute?"
"Free country."
Jordan sat down and T. J. offered him a cigarette, observed him as he lit it, thinking to himself how odd life was, that he could feel anything but hatred for the man who slept with the woman he loved. The men sat quietly for a few moments, each lost in his own thoughts: Jordan, trying to come to grips with the fact that the man sitting across from him, the man he knew adored Laura, had chosen to leave her, and T. J., trying to find words to say what he had to say; words that wouldn't come easy. He made light conversation: asked Jordan questions about the bar, his father's health, questions that were easy to ask. They talked for a few minutes, then Jordan excused himself- said he had to help his father.
T. J. observed a young couple dancing; the way they smiled at one another, the way the man's hand constantly found its way to the girls face, and her hair. When his finger traced her mouth, his heart crumbled like a sand castle. He shoved his chair back and went outside, turned up the collar of his jacket and adjusted his hat. The wind had picked up and was cold against his face. He leaned against the building as he smoked, observing the passing trucks, automobiles, and trains, wondering, as always he did, where they were going. But this time, he wondered too, if any of the people in them felt as lost, lonely, and as empty as he did. He nodded to another trucker as he entered the bar, rejected a prostitute, then sat in his truck and listened to music (the saddest he could find). He kept thinking of Laura, wondered how she was coping with everything. His timing was horrible, but too late to change anything. Things were what they were. And no amount of wishing was going to change anything. He kept telling himself that as he listened to the radio. Finally- after what seemed like hours, he observed customers exiting the bar at closing time; some of them drunk, some happy, some sad, and too many reminding him of what he'd just thrown away.
When the last customer left, he got out of the truck and entered the bar again. Hank motioned him to a table. A few minutes later, Jordan joined them. Both Hank and Jordan were relieved when he finally began talking. He didn't look at either of them directly, at first, just said, his voice sounding flat and emotionless, "Looks like I dropped the ball on this one. I thought I had it made. you know? But I didn't! Never did, I guess. I'm speaking of course, about Laura." He looked at Hank, said (as he took another cigarette out of his pocket),"She trusts you. So I'm asking you to watch over her. "He lit the cigarette, then said, looking at Jordan now, his eyes guarded, his voice cold. "She slept with you. I hated her for that, and you too. But the fact is, you were there when she needed somebody. I wasn't. Nothing much has changed. I'm still gone too much, and you're still here. I don't like it. But that's the way it is." He fell into silence then, sat brooding as he smoked.
"You're making a mistake,"Jordan said. "A really big one."
T. J. tilted his chair back and frowned. "Like you really give a damn."
"You might not believe it, but I do. I love Laura. I'm not denying that. But we both know you're the one who made her happy."
"Well, not any more. "
"You don't have to leave it this way, "Hank said. "Surely something can be worked out."
"Not this time, Hank."
"It's her drinking, isn't it?"
"Yes. "
"She'll get help if you ask her too. "Jordan said, genuinely trying to be helpful. There isn't anything she wouldn't do for you. T. J. She made a horrible mistake and is sorry for it."
T. J. pushed his hat back a little with a finger, flipped ashes off of his cigarette, then looked at Jordan, eyes angry, as well as hurt. "I know she's sorry for what she did. And I know if it were possible for her to undo what she did, she would. But that isn't the problem. Her drinking is. And I have asked her to get help. She's promised she would- a thousand times over. But never got it. Look, "he said, his voice anguished again. (He faltered here, found it difficult to get the words out- took a long drag off his cigarette- and tried again). "When I broke our engagement Laura begged me to change my mind- promised to get help. I told her I didn't have what it took to go through this any more. Living with an alcoholic is the one thing I always said I'd never do. I should have known better- ought to have.. Well, no sense in even going there. I let myself get involved even after I knew she had a drinking problem. I kept telling myself I'd end it, before I got in too deep, but I fell in love with her so fast I .."
When he fell silent again, he looked so distressed that neither Hank or Jordan knew what to say. Finally, after a few minutes of strained silence Hank said, "Breaking your engagement must have been very hard for you, T. J. But if you feel this strongly about it, maybe it's for the best. I'd hate to think so, but maybe it is."
T. J. didn't look at Hank- just toyed with the ash tray as he talked. He spoke softly, almost in a whisper, as if talking to himself. "The last thing she said to me was that she loved me enough to get help- was going too. And not just for me but for herself too. She said if I didn't believe her I could call and check with you, Hank."
"Well, maybe she will do it this time."
"I'm not holding my breath. Hank."
T. J. took out his wallet, took out $2,000, and handed it to Hank. "I want you to give this to her. But I don't want her to know it's from me. I'll send you the same amount next month. It's enough to tide her over till she gets her life back on track. And check on her as soon as you can, okay? I couldn't have broken our engagement at a worse time."
"What do you mean?"
"I'd no sooner broken it when a cab pulled up with her daughter and grandchildren in it. She hasn't seen her daughter for years. You know that. And this is the first time she's seen her grandchildren."
"Damn." Jordan said." You can't leave her like this. T. J. It's not right."
"I didn't plan it this way, Jordan, but that's the way it is. You'll do this for me, won't you, Hank? I mean check on her once in awhile, besides giving her the money? Are you up to it? If not I'll.."
"It's fine. T. J. I'll take care of it. But I don't feel right about the money. She should know it comes from you."
"She'd never take it, if she knew it was from me, not after I broke our engagement. I know her, Hank. She's got a stubborn streak."
" Okay. Whatever you say."
"And Jordan."
" Yeah, T. J.?"
"Don't mistake my courtesy for friendship. I'm not stupid enough to think you'll not take advantage of this situation."
"You're wrong about that. But I don't expect you to believe me."
T. J. crushed out his cigarette. "I've got to be going. Here you go, Hank. " He took a $5 out of his pocket and offered it to Hank. "For the beer."
"It's on the house."
"Thanks." T. J. said, and shook hands with Hank. "Take care of yourself."
"You too."
Jordan offered his hand and T. J. took it, after a moments hesitation. "Drive safe, T. J."
"I will."
"He'll be okay, Dad," Jordan said, resting an arm upon his father's shoulder when he saw his father's shoulders slump, and his eyes fill with tears. "They both will. You'll see."
copyright 2007
Written by barbpinion
Permalink
| Blog about this entry
| Add to del.icio.us | digg this
This entry has comments: Add your own
Saturday, May 26, 2007
1:44:05 PM PDT
MISS LADY PG 83
{First page of this story}
MISS LADY - PG 1
The cab pulled up just as T. J. reached his truck. A woman and two children got out. Something about the woman grabbed his attention; something familiar. Where had he seen her before? It was when the boy, looking up at his Mother, asked if the house was his grandmothers, that he recalled the pictures Laura had shown him. The little boy was Laura's grandchild. He glanced at the little girl standing next to him, then at the woman again. (a younger version of Laura.).
"O God, help me." he prayed. "Laura isn't in any shape to deal with them by herself. Not now- not after I just broke our engagement." He had do something and quick.
" Hello." he said, as he walked over to the woman. "Are you Laura's daughter?"
" Why, Yes, I am, "the woman said, her smile lighting her blue eyes. "I'm April. And this is my son, Michael, and my daughter, Monique. And you are?"
"I'm T. J. I think Laura told you about me."
"Yes, she did. It's so nice to meet you." She glanced towards the house and said, excitedly, "I'm hoping to surprise her. I didn't tell her I was coming." The words had no sooner left her mouth when Laura appeared at the front door.
T. J. feared for her (her eyes widened- she clutched at her heart- her face had paled- she was visibly shaken).
"Is that my grandma?" Michael asked, looking up at his mother.
"Yes." April said. "Go give her a hug."
Laura, seeing him coming, knelt down and opened her arms. Michael ran into them. Seconds later, Monique came running towards her- wanting hugs too.
T. J. stood cursing life's timing, and himself too, as he watched Laura break into tears as she caressed the children's faces, held them back to inspect them, then caught them to her heart again. And then she embraced her daughter, crying even harder, as she uttered words of apology for the house, for how she looked, and for being so unprepared. He didn't miss the pleading look when their eyes met over her daughter's shoulder, or the fear behind it (fear bright as the noon day sun). He picked up the luggage and followed the women and children into the house- placed the luggage next to the sofa.
"Did you just get here, T. J.?" April asked, warmly, "Or were you leaving?"
" I'm leaving. But I can stay a little while, if Laura wants me too."
"Oh, I know she'd want you to stay," April said, glancing at her mother. "You do, don't you, Mom?"
T. J. nodded, indicating he'd stay (when Laura threw a frantic look in his direction). "Yes, I do, if it isn't interfering with his plans."
"It's not." T. J. said, quietly, desperately wishing he'd known April was going to arrive. Had he known..well, it was too late now. He'd just have to make the best of things.
The next few hours were horrible for T. J. and Laura. They were both in shock, having to deal with the broken engagement, and with having to say good bye (knowing they weren't going to be seeing each other any more). Every look was torture, every accidental touch a branding iron. But somehow they managed to visit with April and laugh over the antics of the children. As the hours passed, T. J., sensing that the strain of his presence was too much for Laura, told April and the children it was time for him to leave.
"But I wanted to go in the truck." Michael whined.
"T. J. has to leave now, Michael. "April said. "You be a good boy now. Don't start whining. Remember what daddy told you."
"I can show him the truck." T. J. said.
"No! That's okay."April said. "He'll be all right."
"I don't mind. Really!"
"Well, if you're sure."
" It won't take that long. Want to come too, Monique?"
"I don't want no girls to come." Michael said, crossly.
" That's okay," April said." Because Monique doesn't want to go any way. She'd rather stay with me and Grandma, wouldn't you, baby?"
" Uh-huh." Monique said, and plopped her thumb into her mouth.
"He seems like such a nice man." Mom," April said, as she watched T. J. leave the room- her son's hand tucked into his. He's really got a way with kids. Michael doesn't usually open up to strangers that quickly, especially not with adults."
"He's good with everybody."
"And you're crazy about him, aren't you, Mom?
Laura's face flushed. She didn't want to talk her feelings for him. It was all she could not to beg him to stay, to not leave her. Her torment was obvious. April, seeing it, said, "What's the matter, Mom? You can tell me. "
"It's nothing." Laura said. trying desperately not to cry, to get past wanting a drink, to numb the pain that was fast filling her up. "I'm just not feeling my best. Haven't been for a while now. That's all."
"Why didn't you tell me? April asked, taking her mother's hands into hers. I'd have come to help you, Or., oh my! I caught you at a bad time? Is that it?"
Laura pulled her hands away, began to tremble, and the tears she'd fought so hard to keep from falling fell any way.
"OH, I HAVE! Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry. I should have called. I should have written. It's just that it's been so long since we have seen each other. I just couldn't wait."
"It's not you, April. "Laura said, wiping at her tears with her fingers. "Truly it's not. I'm glad you came, honey. "It's just that I'm... I can't.."
"What Mom? What is it?"
" It's T. J."
"What about him?"
"He broke our engagement just before you got here."
"Oh, Mom! I'm so sorry. I DID come at a bad time- at the worst possible time. I should go home and maybe visit later, after you two have had time to maybe work things out."
"No! You just got here. I couldn't bear it if you left now. And besides, T. J. said there isn't anything to work out."
"I don't know what to say, Mom. What happened? You sounded so happy in your letters, like you were doing so good."
"What happened was ME, April. But I don't want to talk about it right now. Let's just enjoy being together, Okay?"
"I'd not have asked T. J. to stay if I'd known he broke your engagement."
"He had good reason too. But let's not talk about it. Let's go see how Michael is doing."
The women and Monique went outside. They could see
T. J. sitting in the driver's seat with Michael on his lap. The sight brought fresh tears to Laura's eyes.
"Look at me, Mommy," Michael called.
"I see you. Are you having fun?"
" Yes! I'm going to drive a big truck like this when I'm a man."
"I have no doubt." April said. And to Laura. "I pray not. "
Recognizing how delicate and stressful the situation was, April said she was going to take the children for a short walk. "Be back in a little bit." she said. She hugged her mother tight before leaving, and thanked T. J. for helping her mother ( though what she wanted to say was, " I hope you know what you are doing).
T. J., after helping Michael down from the truck, was leaning against it - his hands shoved into his Levi pockets. He was gazing at the ground, but was very much aware of how near Laura was- close enough to touch- to kiss, if he was willing too suffer some more.
"I'm sorry about the timing, he said. "If I'd known your daughter was going to be here today I'd have put it off for a while. Breaking our engagement, I mean."
"No sense doing that. If you want out- you want out!"
It was only the mental slate he'd created that made it possible for him to remain silent, to not get sucked into the guilt trap. She knew he loved her, that he'd been as honest as he could be. "I wish things could be different," he said, when the silence between them got unbearable. " If it were possible I'd turn the clock back, if only for a chance to relive the good times."
As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake. Her hands were resting upon his arms before he'd finished speaking, then, upon his shoulders, then cradling his face. He stood still, part of him wanting to run like hell- the other part frozen- unable to move. He trembled- sucked in his breath when their eyes met (the love in her eyes was blinding). He couldn't help himself. He let his lips touch hers, knowing how much deeper the hurt would be when he left. He said, with that kiss, all he ever wanted to say, and could say. It stole her breath away- left her dazed, when he finally stepped away from her.
She stood unmoving, as he started the truck up- listened to it idle- knowing he was lighting a cigarette. And when, after a few minutes it was still idling, she knew it was because he loved her, and was finding it hard to pull away, knowing that when he did...
She left the thought dangling in the air, unwilling to finish it, chose instead, to freeze the moment in her mind, for as long as she could. Because by freezing it, any time she wanted, or needed too, she could reach out and touch him.The tears didn't fall, until a few minutes later, when the truck began pulling away from the curb. They were still falling when April returned with her children.
copyright 2/25/07 BAP
Written by barbpinion
Permalink
| Blog about this entry
| Add to del.icio.us | digg this
This entry has comments: Add your own
Friday, May 25, 2007
2:29:51 PM PDT
MISS LADY PG 82
{First page of this story}
MISS LADY - PG 1
She rinsed out the glass, set the Vodka back into the cupboard, then went back into the living room (got there just in time to see T. J. coming up the walk). She opened the door before he reached it- stood expectantly, waiting for him to touch his hat, nod, and say,"Miss Lady." But he didn't. She swallowed her hurt, said, "I missed you." as she hugged him.
His arms tightened around her. She could smell his after-shave. "Missed you too."
They were the right words- but sounded different this time. She looked into his face, and was puzzled at what she saw there; love- but something else, something that made her suck in her breath- and become afraid. He started to turn loose of her, but she leaned into him, cradled his face with her hands. "Kiss me. "she said, softly.
Her mouth was upon his before he could think. He got caught up in the kiss for a few seconds (let himself experience the wonder of it, before pulling away). He took hold of her hands, said- his voice breaking, "We have to talk."
"About what?"
"About us."
Laura's face lit up- her eyes danced. "About our getting married? Oh, T. J., you couldn't have made me any happier.
I was afraid you wouldn't be able to forgive me, so afraid that...."
"We're not getting married."
"What?" Laura's face turned pale. She pulled away from him. "I don't understand. You forgave me. You said..." Her voice trailed off. She was speechless, unable to find words to express what she was feeling. She stared at him- saw in his face and eyes the same love she'd always seen, so couldn't comprehend what he was telling her. She looked at his hat, remembering the first time he'd touched his hand to it, nodded- and called her "Miss Lady."What was he saying? That they were through- that.."
She couldn't bear it--just couldn't! A thousand questions filled her mind, a thousand things she wanted, no (needed to say). But she couldn't seem to utter a word. She just stared at him, as he took a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and lit one, swallowed hard, when their eyes met (his were shiny- filled with such anguish that she burst into tears).
She went to him- wrapped her arms around his waist- said, between heavy sobbing, as she looked up at him." This is wrong, T. J. You know it is. Can you look me in the face, and tell me you don't love me any more? CAN YOU?"
"No."
"Then I don't understand any of this. If you love me, why are you..?"
" Have you eaten dinner yet?"
"DINNER? I don't care about dinner. Right now, all I CARE about is getting this worked out."
"It CAN'T be worked out."
" Don't SAY that." Laura said, bursting into tears. "Anything can be worked out if two people love each other. Isn't that what you always say?"
'Yes."
"Then why can't THIS be worked out? If you've forgiven me like you said you did, If..."
"I HAVE forgiven you. But..."
"But what? TELL me."Laura said, the anguish in her eyes growing.
"I will! But could we sit? And would you mind making some coffee?"
Laura didn't reply-just headed for the kitchen. T. J. followed her, trying his best to keep his emotions in check (She was wearing the sweater he loved seeing her in- was wearing his favorite perfume). It was difficult to keep the memories at bay: his pulling her to him the first time he'd seen her in the sweater- kissing her so passionately the dinner she'd prepared had been forgotten). He had to keep reminding himself of the slate he'd created, knew if he didn't, he'd never be able to say what he had to say, or do what he had to do.
"I don't understand." Laura said, miserably, as she moved about the kitchen. "None of this makes sense." She continued talking while preparing the coffee, muttering how unfair it was, that she knew he loved her, that they could make it through the present trial. "We've made it this far. " she said, after plugging in the coffee pot.
T. J. got the cups, sugar and cream for her, set them on the table, then seated himself - smoked while watching her, committing her to memory. She looked so fragile standing there. And so hurt, he thought, as she turned to face him. He was right. The hard part was having to look at her while he talked. She stood directly across from him- her hands resting upon the chair, trying, he could tell, not to cry.
"Okay." she said. "The coffee is on. So what did you want to say?"
Her voice was shaky- so thick with sadness, that he had to look away for a minute. "Would you sit down?"he asked, as he crushed out his cigarette.
She heard the catch in his voice, wasn't ready to hear what he had to say, but for love of him, she pulled out the chair and sat down. She looked at him expectantly, eyes shimmering- arms folded (a shield to protect her from what was coming).
T. J. rested his elbows on the table, his chin upon his hands, brought up the mental image of the slate- scanned it quickly- then said, reminding himself to stay focused," I can't marry you, Laura, because it wouldn't work out. We don't belong together."
"You can't mean that?"
"I do." "
"But You said you love me."
"And I DO, love you, Laura. But sometimes love isn't enough."
" I don't believe that. We've had problems. But all couples do."
"That's true. But the problem we have isn't getting any better."
"What problem?"
"The trust issue, Laura. And unrealistic expectations; mine of you, not yours of me." He had to take a deep breath before continuing, because Laura's eyes got more watery. And her hands (that had, up to that moment been still) were being twisted and wrung- were darting about like tiny birds (rubbing her arms, playing with the buttons on her sweater, wiping imaginary crumbs from the table.
"A trust issue?"
"Yes."
"Because I slept with Jordan and... that ..that other man?"
"Not just because of that." T. J. leaned back in his chair, forced himself to remember all the times Laura had been drunk when he'd called her, all the promises she'd broken about going to A. A.
" What then?"
" Because I can't trust you not to drink. And that's what I meant about unrealistic expectations. I owe you an apology."
A puzzled expression crossed Laura's face. "You owe ME an apology? Whatever for?"
"For putting pressure on you about your drinking. I did it with the best intentions. But I ought not to have done it at all. You can't stop drinking for me, or for somebody else. You have to stop because you want too. I'm sorry I made it so much harder for you, If I hadn't loved you so much, I'd not have..""
Laura was up and out of the chair before he could finish the sentence- kneeling in front of him, tears running down her face. She took hold of his hands- said- her words coming out breathlessly, as if she'd been running, "Oh, T. J., I'm the one who should apologize. I'm the one who caused all our problems. If I'd gotten help when you first asked me too, we'd not be having this conversation. Oh, honey, PLEASE don't hold my past against me. PLEASE believe me, when I say how sorry I am for hurting you, for making you worry all the time, and having to doubt my love. Give me another chance, honey. Just one, so I can prove how sincere I am, that I can keep my word."
"Don't do this to me, babe." T. J. removed his hands from hers. He brushed her hair away from her face, rested his hand upon her cheek. "This is so hard for me, the hardest thing I've ever done in my life." He took hold of her hands, lifted her up, held her face in his hands- said, his voice breaking, "It's breaking my heart."
"And mine !" Laura said. as she threw her arms around his neck and wept.
He let out a soft moan, pulled her tight against him, then kissed her, crying as he did; crying too, when he stepped away from her, touched his hat, and nodded, said - (his voice as steady as he could make it). "Miss Lady." The tears ran down his face as he turned from her, nearly blinded him as he made his way to the door. His hand was upon the doorknob when she came running towards him. She grabbed hold of his arm, and when he turned to face her, said (with tears raining down her face), in a voice he'd never forget," You can walk away from me if you want too, T. J., but you'll not be able to forget me, any more than I can forget you. And we WILL get married one day. Because whether you believe me or not, I DO love you enough to get help. And I am going too. And not just for you, But for ME. I am going to become the woman you made me believe I could be. You'll see."
"Oh Babe."
She hugged him so tight he could scarcely breathe- whispered against his shirt, as he held her close, "I don't expect you to believe me right now, honey. There is no way you could. But you check with Jordan or Hank from time-to-time and you'll see that I'm keeping my promise- that I love you enough to do whatever it takes to keep you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. You are!"
He held her for the longest time, listening to her spill out promises he desperately wanted to believe, let himself get lost in the kisses she gave, breathed deeply of her perfume, committed to memory the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. "I've got to go." he said, after their last kiss. I can't bear to stay any longer. I just can't."
"I know." Her voice was steady- brave-sounding. But her eyes gave her away (they were shimmering pools, a lost look behind the shimmer). She told him to drive safe, but wanted to say, "Don't forget to call Hank or Jordan. That's the only way you'll know how much I love you, the only way you'll know if I kept my promise."
He said he'd drive safe, but wanted to say, "Wherever I am, you'll be, because you'll always be in my heart. He wanted to say he hoped with all his heart that she was right- that they would marry some day."
Finally, knowing he'd never go if he didn't leave immediately, he turned the doorknob- heard her sharp intake of breath- but didn't look back. He closed the door softly, but it sounded loud to Laura, who stood crying- fingers touching her mouth, remembering his kiss.
copyright 2/25/07 BAP
Written by barbpinion
Permalink
| Blog about this entry
| Add to del.icio.us | digg this
This entry has comments: Add your own
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
6:19:10 PM PDT
MISS LADY PG 81
{First page of this story}
MISS LADY - PG 1
T. J. drove as far as Lancaster. He could have driven a while longer and seen Laura, but wasn't ready yet (knew that the words he'd speak would break her heart, as well as his). He wasn't ready to hear her say,"But you promised," wasn't ready to see her cry, wasn't ready to feel what he knew he'd feel when she threw herself into his arms and begged him to stay. And she would. She always did.
He felt closed in and trapped - hurt more than he'd hurt in a long time, but knew that the pain he felt was nothing compared to what it would be, once he said good bye to Laura.
He needed courage, and having none, did what he'd done when he'd screwed up as a kid, knowing trouble awaited him soon as he got home. He stalled. He parked his truck, then walked for a long time, smoking as he walked, kicking pebbles, or cans, or whatever was in his way, mentally practicing, as he walked, how he'd act when he saw Laura (calm, cool, and collected). And how his voice would sound (firm, steady, focused, kind). He played out in his mind every scenario he could. When he felt confident, and his emotions were under control, he drove the rest of the way, stopping first at a motel. He checked in, freshened up, then called Laura.
"I'm here. I just got in."
" I can hardly wait to see you. But I just got back from Ginny's. Can you give me about an hour?"
"Sure."
" Are we going to hang out here, honey, or would you rather go out?"
Simple questions, but questions that tore at T. J's heart, reminding him of the romantic times they'd shared: the times he'd taken her dancing, to dinner, window -shopping, the parties at GInny's house, and the first time he'd seen her at "Rick's Bar & Grill." He frowned when Jordan came to mind. Would she go running to him after he was gone?
"T. J.?"
"I'm here."
"Which would you rather do, honey?"
"It doesn't matter. Whatever works for you. Just say the word."
Laura had no name for the feeling that swept through her, as she tried to label the way T. J. sounded. Indifferent and empty, she decided (And because she'd hurt him so horribly, she knew). She'd make it up to him. She'd wear something he liked seeing her in, would wear the perfume he liked best, and would, before the night was over, have him happy again.
"Is it okay to hang out here then?" she asked. " I can make dinner, could.."
"No need too."
"T. J."
"What?"
" I love you so much."
"I know."
" Don't you love me any more?"
"Yes."
"And we're still going to get married? "
"We'll talk when I get there, okay? See you in an hour."
The dial tone sounded before Laura could reply. She forced herself not to cry, not to allow her mind to fill up with crazy "what if?" questions.
She'd had a difficult time cutting back on her drinking, but had given it her best shot, knowing if she didn't, she'd have no chance to win T. J. back, no chance to prove she was serious this time, about getting help. Once sober, she'd been horrified to see how she'd let herself go. Her hair was dry and lifeless, her eyes always bloodshot, her face pale and splotchy.
She dug through the hall closet; searched for, and found, the hair-conditioner Ginny had given her on her last birthday. "It's the best ever." she'd said. And it was! It made a huge difference in her hair. So did the makeup she put on. She'd forgotten how wonderfully it covered up dark circles, wrinkles, any redness, any imperfections. By the time she'd finished applying it, she felt more confident.
They'd be staying in, so she'd wear black slacks and her new turquoise blouse. And because she still wasn't feeling her best ( felt chilled most of the time), she'd wear the black sweater T. J. liked. She almost cried while slipping her arms into it, remembering how, when he first saw her in it, he'd pulled her to him, said, "Wow, babe. You sure look sexy."
She glanced at the clock. She didn't have much time. She combed her hair, dabbed "White Linen" perfume behind her ears, and on each wrist. She stood in front of the mirror, turned this way- and that- frowned a little. Ginny was right! She did look too thin. But she looked better than she did
two weeks ago. She put a few drops of Murine into her eyes, blinked a few times- sighed, after glancing at her wristwatch.
T. J. would arrive within the next ten minutes (he was seldom late).
As the minutes passed, she began to fret and pace, remembering how evasive he had been the last few times they talked- how reserved. She thought of the their last argument- the hurt in his eyes- and tears filled hers. He'd been nothing but good to her, nothing but good, and she'd treated him so shabbily. "Oh God," she said, tearfully,
"Help me make this right. I love him so much."
She wiped the tears from her eyes, said, "Everything is going to be just fine. Everything is going to be just fine.
She'd said it ten times, when she heard the semi. Her heart began to beat so fast she put her hand upon her breast- took
several deep breaths. Her stomach filled with butterflies and her face flushed. She smiled.
Everything was going to be okay. T. J. would be walking through her front door any minute. He'd touch his hat- nod in that endearing way, and say (with love shining from his eyes), "Miss Lady."
She could see, from where she was standing, the truck, as it pulled up in front of her house. In the past she'd raced to the door, flung it open, and dashed down the steps to meet him. But this time, she hesitated, as unsure of herself, as she was of him.
The truck was idling, than fell silent. T. J. sat, hands resting on the steering wheel, staring out the window. The longer he sat there- the more nervous she became. She wanted a drink, didn't know if she could make it through the evening without one. Two minutes passed, then four. She saw him adjust his hat, then light a cigarette. Something about the way he sat there, smoking- knowing she was eager to see him, hurt her deeply.
She stood frozen- afraid to move, uncertain as to what to do- thinking,"if he doesn't come in within the next two minutes, I'm going out there." To say, or do what, she had no idea. When another minute passed, and he still sat smoking and staring out the window, she went into the kitchen, poured some Vodka into a glass and gulped it down.
copyright 5/16/07
Written by barbpinion
Permalink
| Blog about this entry
| Add to del.icio.us | digg this
This entry has comments: Add your own
Thursday, May 10, 2007
12:19:41 PM PDT
MISS LADY PG 80
{Page One of this story}
MISS LADY - PG 1
Quint, listening to T. J. cry, prayed for words to comfort him, for the wisdom to say the right thing, no matter how difficult.
"Sorry about the outburst," T. J. said, after he'd composed himself.
" It did you good. Besides, whoever said crying is just for women? "
"Doesn't help anything. Nothing has changed."
" And nothing will change, my friend, unless you change it. And you've not broken any promises. You've supported Laura every way you could; you've called her, sent her cards and letters, tried to see her as often as you could, and tried to get her to get help. The fact that she's still drinking, and so sick, isn't your fault. T. J. It's hers."
"I just don't know what to do, Quint."
"We always know, my friend. We just say we don't because it's easier than having to face reality. Isn't that true?"
The question sat heavy upon T. J.'s mind, long after Quint hung up. Was it true? Did a person always know the truth -even when they said they didn't? Did he know the truth?
Images flashed through his mind: His tipping his hat and calling Laura "Miss Lady" for the first time, the moment Hank revealed that she was an alcoholic, the many times he'd phoned her, and she'd been so drunk he couldn't make sense out of anything she said; making love to her ( holding her afterwards, as she whispered against his cheek, "I'm sorry I broke my promise. But I won't do it again. I'll get help, darlin. You know I will, because I couldn't bear it if I lost you), Laura, crying, on the phone -after they'd been dating several months- begging his forgiveness because she hadn't gone to A. A,, begging for forgiveness because she got drunk again, begging forgiveness because she'd slept with Jordan. And Laura, at a motel, in bed with a man whose face she couldn't describe, so drunk he was able to steal her engagement ring.
He lit a cigarette, smoked it while weeping a little more. He did know the truth- had from the very beginning. He put out his cigarette and went to bed, so tired he didn't remember falling asleep.
Distant thunder woke him the next morning. He lay on the bed listening to its rumble, feeling sadder, and more empty than he'd ever felt in his life; had no idea where he'd find courage to do what he had to do.
He slipped on his boots and shirt and combed his hair before putting on his jacket and hat. He was hungry, but knew better than to eat, so when he entered the Truck Stop he just ordered coffee. Two drivers asked to share his booth-were both friendly and inquisitive-but not offended when he asked to be left alone.
A week passed (in spite of him trying to make time stand still). He ate little, slept whenever he could, stopped often (to stretch his legs), but mostly to give his mind a break. It was running over time, sapping his energy, making it difficult to concentrate, filling up with things that made him want to cry. He took to resting during the day, and driving during the night. Having the highway to himself was the only comfort he had.
Each night, as he drove, he mentally created a slate, like the ones he wrote on when in grade school. And as he drove, he'd write out all the things he knew he had to tell Laura. It took a long time to fill the tablet, because every time he'd read what he'd written, he knew it would break her heart, so would delete it, and have to start all over again.
Some nights, after writing on the tablet, he'd pick up his cell phone, wanting- longing to hear her voice. but forced himself not too call. He listened to the radio instead; sometimes it was calming. But whenever a love song would be played, the ocean of tears he'd shoved down would resurface. He'd let his face get wet- would tell himself he deserved to feel crappy because he was a fool. He knew he was a fool because only a fool went sky-diving without a parachute. That's pretty much what he'd done; placed his heart in Laura's hand, knowing, in his gut, that he'd get hurt. The red flags were up all the time. He'd just refused to see them; had wanted to believe that if he just loved her enough, shown her that he believed in her, everything would fall into place. But of course it wouldn't; it couldn't- because life didn't work that way. Life rewards a man for making good choices- punishes him for making bad ones.
Thinking about this, he realized that every choice he'd made since meeting Laura had been based upon his feelings- not common sense. Before meeting her he'd been happy, was enjoying life, looked forward to each new day. After meeting her, his happiness began to fade- like a precious rose in too hot sun.
He thought about this as he wondered about Laura; what she was doing, if she was still angry- (a stupid thought since she hadn't called). She obviously was, which was a good thing, actually. It would make it easier to tell her what he had too. The hard part would be looking into her face while he spoke. The hard part would be seeing the expressions he knew would sweep across her face: shock, sadness, and disbelief. He changed his mind, several times, remembering how much he loved her, remembering his promise to always be there for her. But while thinking about these things - like a submarine, rising from the bottom of the ocean, the image of the mental slate he'd created kept rearing its ugly head, reminding him of the decision he'd made.
He struggled for a long time with his decision. It was impossible not too, because everywhere he was- Laura was. She walked across his mind- the scent of her perfume as real as the semi he drove. Her voice echoed from the chambers of his soul, and he ached for her kiss- to once again feel the tightness of her arms around his waist, his neck. But even hungering for her, missing her, loving her, he knew that what was between them could never be a lasting thing. Without trust- love cannot exits, cannot grow. And one man did not own another man; he had to apologize to her for trying to force her to make choices she either could not- or would not make; had to apologize for putting unrealistic expectations on her.
Another week passed.
He was heading back to Laura's, had passed up better loads so he could put to rest, what needed to be put to rest.
Twilight had fallen, and he, being tired, was taking a break; was sitting on a bench in a rest area, smoking a cigarette while talking to another driver. "Sorry," he said, when his cell phone rang."
"No problem." the driver replied, "I've got to be going any way. It was nice talking to you. Have a safe trip."
"You too."
T. J. watched him walk away while answering his phone- was surprised to hear Laura's voice. As usual she was begging forgiveness, tearfully saying she had been drinking too much.
"You know I didn't mean what I said, T. J. You have every right to be angry with me. And I deserved the nasty remark you made when you found out what happened to the engagement ring you gave me."
"It was a cruel thing to say, Laura. And I'm sorry that I said it."
I'm the one who should be sorry. You've been nothing but good to me, have tried your best to help me, have always been in my corner. I am SO sorry, honey, so VERY sorry. Please forgive me. I LOVE you, would NEVER want to hurt you, but I know I did."
" It's behind us now. Okay?"
"Okay. But I feel so bad about treating you like I did."
"Don't think about it any more. Are you doing okay?"
"Yes."
"Sleeping much?"
"Not too good, because I hate that you're angry with me. I miss you so much, honey, more than I can say."
She sounded so pathetic- like a lost child. He turned up the collar of his jacket when it began to get windy, cupped his hands as he lit a cigarette, felt the old, familiar ache began to build when Laura said, "I'll make it up to you,
T. J., I promise I will. You know how good we are together, baby. You haven't forgotten how good, have you?"
"No."
"It'll be even better this time, honey. Oh, I love you so much. I really do. And I'm so sorry you had to leave feeling so bad. But I'm not going to think about it any more. I'm going to remember the last time we made love. Remember that, honey- how wonderful it was?"
T. J. remained silent, unwilling to go where she was trying to take him. The slate he'd created rose again, the words he'd written as bright as the noon day sun. He closed his eyes, as if by doing so they'd disappear, They didn't. The last entry he'd written was in BOLD writing. He was going down the list when Laura said his name- then said it again, when he didn't answer her. "T. J.?"
"What, Laura?"
"You still want to marry me, don't you?"
Hearing the worry, doubt, and fear in her voice, he wished he was anywhere but where he was, could be talking to somebody else. He knew what he had to say, but was not about to say it over the phone. She deserved better than that. He did too.
" I've got to go, Laura. Hate to hang up this way but I have too. We'll talk when I get there, Okay? See you soon."
"But T. J.'
" Haven't got time to talk now. I'll call you the minute I get in. I promise. Take care of yourself."
"I will. I love you."
"Love you too. See you soon."
copyright 2007
Written by barbpinion
Permalink
| Blog about this entry
| Add to del.icio.us | digg this
This entry has comments: Add your own
Friday, May 4, 2007
5:46:41 PM PDT
MISS LADY PG 79
{First page of this story}
MISS LADY - PG 1
It began raining again, after he'd finished talking to Quint. He listened to the thunder rumbling closer and closer- was startled a little at the first sharp lightning crack- though he ought to have expected it. He rolled the window up again, then sat finishing his cigarette as Quint's parting words echoed in his mind."They have most power to hurt us whom we love. We lay our sleeping lives down in their arms."
That's what he'd done, right from the beginning - laid his heart wide open first time he called Laura "Miss Lady,"even though his gut instinct told him to hold off- to remember the havoc alcoholism had played within his family, and in the lives of some of his friends. He should have known better.
He was exhausted- but knowing he'd be unable to sleep, decided to drive awhile longer. He started the truck up again, headed down the highway, noting the mile markers . He seldom stopped at the smaller truck stops, but fatigue won out. When he saw the green "Taylor & Son's Truck Stop" sign, he noted the miles- forty two more. He could handle that.
When he finally pulled into the Truck Stop parking lot, he secured the truck, and holding onto his hat, walked hurriedly towards the Cafe. It wasn't much (four booths and a counter), but whatever the cook was working on smelled good- the fresh coffee the waitress was brewing, even better. He ordered the steak plate, and while his order was being prepared, used the restroom and splashed cold water on his face. When he returned and seated himself again, he gazed absentmindedly about, till the waitress approached with his food.
"Here you go." she said, as she placed his meal on the table, popping her gum as she talked. "My name's Lisa. If you need anything else, just let me know."
"Some A. I. sauce?"
'Sure. I'll get it for you."
He thanked her when she brought it- looked at the food on his plate, wondered why he'd even ordered it. He was hungry, but almost too tired to eat. He took a |
