a story that tugs at your heart, maybe a smile or tear... remember kindly always serendipity it is something special for each heart it touches...
Raindrops fell on the windowpane as Jackie watched each one fall.
It seemed almost like Heaven felt her pain inside her heart. She
remembered a conversation she had just two weeks ago and it
gave her some respite for her heart.
"Remember the time we sat on the park bench at the Rose Gardens
and you traced my life line? You were so silly then but I remember
how the breeze made your hair all messy and you tried to fix it
with your fingers and had that silly grin on your face. That is
when I started to care about you...."
"I remember. That was a long time ago. What happened? Have
we lost that spark between us? "
"Maybe. I don't know. It seems that since I have my
new friends I have been a little self absorbed."
"Yeah, that's true . I miss you. Don't you know that?"
"I am a selfish man. I like the attention and you have
to suffer for my flaws. Can we try again? I am sorry."
"I am not sure. I am numb inside. I open up to you and
just ask simple questions and its weeks before I hear. I
care about you. Just say what is in your heart. Is it
difficult for you to talk to me? Am I hard to feel
comfortable around. I guess I should be sorry too. I wish
you felt you could open up to me."
He put his arm around her and pulled her close.
"Don't you worry. You always have a place in my heart."
She smiles. "I know I should know this. I just miss you."
Tears came down Jackie's cheeks as she remembered that conversation. An old worn out encyclopedia fell off her desk
and opened up to a page with an old envelope inside.
It picqued her curiosity and she got up from her chair
and opened it.
It was a Valentine's card from him.
She smiles as she opens the card. There is a picture
of a Red 1955 Thunderbird and they both are sitting inside.
He wrote a few words....
"Remember this day always, it is the day
I fell in love with you..."
She was overcome with tears...
it seems like a lifetime ago...
But why now and why did she find this
photo
almost like
serendipity.
She went into her workshop where she was working on
an acrylic painting of green bananas for her art class
then opened the refrigerator and put some ice to her forehead.
Serendipity...
the word is kind of
skippity...
like my heart
then she picked up the telephone
and dialed his number
Hello, It's me Jackie....
I just saw the old photo of the thunderbird
and I just wondered if you wanted
to meet me for a coffee.
we have alot to talk about
"I would go anywhere for one
of your smiles Jackie... I will meet
you at Donovan's Cafe in a half hour...
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Reviewed by Justin Aardenly
3/31/2009
Hi young lady. I wanted to write a story for you. Here tis. Hope you enjoy. You deserve to. It hasn't been posted any place. If you would like to make it your own, you are welcome to it, because the angels told me to do it for you. If you claim it, just change it as you please and post it as your own. I'll see it and delete my file completely. Have a lovely day! God bless!
Katie’s Night Out
Katie slides into the taxi and closes the door. Reaches for the seat belt.
“Where to, Miss?”
“To…uh… just a minute.” She fumbles in the depth of her purse. Chewing gum. Breath mints. Compact. Police .38. Keycard to her hotel room.
“I got all evening Miss. Meter’s running, so I don’t care.”
“Ah!” She lifts a card, holds it like a winning lottery ticket. “Just ‘n Olde Pizzeria… 8714 Sanborn Drive.”
“You sure?”
Well, why wouldn’t she be? Didn’t the card come by registered mail? Lure her here from half way across the country? Include plane tickets and hotel reservation? The promise of an evening with some semi-celebrity, she was told.
“I…I think so. Something wrong?”
“It’s Doublez Trois.”
Yeah, well the same to you, bud! “What’s dew blaze troy?”
He turns and rests an elbow on his seat back. “You’re not from around here.” It isn’t a question.
“No… I mean yes. Yes, I’m not from around here.”
His brow says ‘why me Lord?’ “To attend Doublez Trois… “ He exhales heavily. “Well, you must have an invitation.”
“Invitation? I have this.” She shows the card.
“No, Miss. That’s just the business’ card. You have to have an invitation.”
“To get into a pizza joint?”
He laughs so that the cab shakes. “Pizza joint? Well, I guess it is. And yes, any night but March third, you walk right in. Today, it’s the place to be, Doublez Trois. If you ever attend one, you’ll know why. Now, you wanta get out? Tell you what, I won’t even charge you.”
She doesn’t know whether to pout or be outraged. And if outraged, at whom? “I’m going to the pizzeria. If you won’t drive me, then your sorry rear end will be resting in the gutter while I take your car!”
His arm drops from the seatback and he takes the wheel. “You from New York?”
“No, I’m not from New York, but I’m from where a girl knows how to take care of herself.”
He nods agreement as the car melds with traffic.
“Tell me about Doublez Trois.”
“You’re right Miss. It was just a pizza joint. Chicken. Spicy potato fries. Piano. Sometimes banjo or something. They kick the tables back about midnight and them that care to, can dance. Me and the missus go a lot, for the potatoes alone. The spice is patented—copywrited—whatever you do with spice. Then one night, a March the third, a special lady came in by chance. The owner, Justin Miles, was single. One thing leads to another. He fell head over heels and they marry. One of them forever-after stories. So every March third, the place does it up right. Romantic spell. Everybody who wants to impress his lady, or to say thank you for my happiness, buys tickets. If he’s lucky. Tickets go for five bills apiece.”
He looks into the mirror. “Still want to try? It could be a challenge.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Bet you wouldn’t” wasn’t meant for her ears, but she heard nonetheless.
He straightens. “What do you do, Miss?”
“I’m a writer. Poetry. Short stories. A novel’s started.”
“You don’t say.”
The passenger searches her purse again. Retrieves a slip of paper, unfolds it and reads. ‘At the door, just tell who you are.’ She bends the paper back and tucks it in her bra; that purse loses everything! Seeing the cabbie’s eyes in the mirror, she sticks her tongue out. His shrug answers that he can’t be blamed for looking.
A short queue is on the sidewalk. Katie laces her fingers and hopes to not be embarrassed when she reaches the front. She tilts her head and sees a doorman look at each person’s invitation, then return it and motion the person inside. When he reaches for hers, she says, “I’m Katie,” her heart in her throat.
“Yes Ma’am! Welcome to Doublez Trois. Enjoy your night.” As he speaks, he reaches to a pocket and lifts an invitation that he places in her hand.
She enters, turning her head enough that she sees a cab passing, its driver with jaw agape.
“Miss, could you come this way?” One of the employees, she knows because of the navy colored blazer, offers an arm.
“Thank you.” As they walk, she asks, “Are blazers worn every night?”
“Oh, no Ma’am. Just for Doublez Trois”.
She feels a little silly for it, but she can’t help but pinch the fabric.
“Suede?”
“Yes Ma’am. Mr. Miles was wearing a suede blazer on the night they met.” He sidesteps a chair being scooted back. “Right up there, Ma’am. If you have a question, need anything that hasn’t already showed up, just lift your hand.” He motions discreetly, whispering, “Powder room’s just over there.”
“Thank you,… ?”
“Todd.”
“Thank you, Todd. I’m Katie.”
He squeezes the hand she offers. “Just ahead.”
She shows the invitation. “Why didn’t I get this in advance?”
“What if you’d lost it? They wanted everything to go perfect for you Ma’am. And the invitation exchanges for a diamond pendant when you leave. If you care to. Lots of ladies keep the invitation itself.”
She looks to the table they’re approaching. A man pushes back and rises. A young Robert Goulet?
“David Monroe”, Todd introduces them, “Katie.”
Pleasantries are exchanged, and Todd seats her. Then he backs away, wiggling his fingers goodbye… if you need me… best of luck…
“Care to order your drink?” a waiter slides a menu on the table. Shifts the roses and candles back to make space.
“May I?” Katie draws the bouquet near again and sniffs. They may think her zany, even uncouth, but she doesn’t care.
“My apology,” the waiter stammers. “Of course. Take your time.” He looks to David. “Just signal when I may assist.”
“We will. You like roses, then, Katie?“
“I love them. Especially red. I like the aroma, the color, the shape, the meaning for… “ She’d almost said ‘lovers’. “Did you bring them?”
He confesses that he hadn’t, looking guilty.
“Oh, I see, every table has them.” She looks around. “But the others are yellow or white.” Did they know her penchant, or was this royal treatment? She doesn’t remember feeling so special.
David intrudes. “Can we order now? Drinks?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“What would you like?”
“Whatever you have will be fine. I like Pepperoni best on the pizza. Oh, and potatoes. We must have the potatoes.”
The waiter comes again. “And, would you care to order the meal now, as well?”
They do, and sit uneasily, to make acquaintance.
“What is your work, David?”
“Electrical contractor, and...”
She hardly hears. The pianist is playing love songs. Just now mixing ‘Love Story’ and ‘Portrait of My Love.’ Making them sound as one. They weren’t one. Were they? He does it so well, it sounds like they should have been. So lovely that it takes her breath. She notes his dark glasses; perhaps his blindness lets him see into the soul of the music.
“And you?” interrupts.
“Oh, I’m sorry, David. I got lost in the music. Isn’t he good? I mean, really good?”
“Yes. Do you play, Katie?”
“I wish! I mean, yes, I try, but to play like that? I’d give anything.”
“I’d bet you’re being modest. What else do you do, Katie?”
“I write. I’ve written for a while, but I’m getting even better at it. One has to try to improve at anything. Don’t you think?”
“In electrical, you don’t try to get better. You spend most of your time learning new codes that get passed all the time.”
“I’m sorry!” She pats his hand. “So you’re thinking of doing something else, instead?” She couldn’t help it. He probably makes gazillions, and he wants to whine about it.
“I didn’t say that.”
The waiter interrupts with their order, asks Katie’s permission before moving the bouquet again. Asks humbly.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Katie addresses the waiter. “Did I offend you before?”
“Oh, no Ma’am. Not at all. It was my error.”
“Are you accustomed to having your way?” David asks when the waiter has gone.
“As a matter of fact, no. But once in a while… doesn’t every human deserve that?”
Suddenly her appetite is gone. “It looks delicious, doesn’t, it?” She tries to sound perky, but she can’t. Even ‘Lara’s Theme’, playing now, doesn’t calm the squeezing in her stomach. She pushes fries about the plate with a fork.
“Must you play with your food!”
She looks with astonishment.
“Jared does that.”
“Jared?”
“My son. One of them.”
“You’re married?”
“I was, twice. But you knew that.”
Her brow rises. “I knew—how?”
“Come now. The tan? Tennis? I play semi-pro. Surely you’ve seen my bio in tennis magazines.”
Will she vomit? “I always thought of tennis as a girl’s sport.” Katie slaps fingers to her lips. “I’m sorry. That was crude. Forgive me.”
He looks to have been assaulted.
Her fingers rise and brush at her hair. She pauses, then lifts her hand above her head for a moment. In a half-minute, Todd arrives.
“Is everything alright, Katie?”
“I think I’d like to go now” She looks to the tanned tennis player, “I’m sorry, David. I really am. Thank you for … coming.” She rises and Todd draws her chair away.
David rises. “See here!” He appears distraught, almost to the verge of blows. “The lady is with me.”
Todd shields himself with an elbow. Offers the other to Katie.
She’s sure that she is flushed, and a bit bewildered. Is this what she came for? She should have stayed at home. With Silas. At the thought of her cat, her shoulders drop, relaxed. She realizes she hadn’t relaxed since entering. She smiles to Todd as they circle tables, making their way toward the door.
“Are you okay. Katie? I’m sorry.”
She fans a hand toward her face. “I just need some fresh air, I guess.”
“Did you have lunch?”
She has to remember. “No. I haven’t eaten all day. Just peanuts on the plane.”
“No wonder you feel peaked. There’s a table in back that employees use, right under the air vents. Would you like to rest there a moment, and see if things look up?”
“Thank you, yes. Yes I would.”
When she is seated, he insists on bringing ice water; she won’t accept anything else. When it arrives, she dabs a napkin against the liquid and wipes at her neck. Laying her head back, drawing the cool balm toward her breasts. She’s aware that Todd is blushing. She does also.
She straightens and asks, “Where did you say the powder room is?”
He shows her again. “Katie. When you’re… powdered, don’t leave on your own. Promise? Maybe you’ll even feel like eating something then.”
She nods and excuses herself with lift of her hand. Even though she’d promised, she thinks she’ll slip out when she’s refreshed. She’s sure of it. She is hungry, even given what has transpired. But she can get a burger someplace. That might be nice. She saw a place a few blocks back; it had a 50’s theme. Harley’s. Elvis. She may go there. The walk will be good. She drops the lipstick tube in her purse and fingers the .38. Makes sure the invitation is there.
She circles the dining room, trying for invisible. Not daring to look up. When she reaches the door she feels like yelling ‘Eureka!’ She doesn’t, but she says it to herself when the diamond is being placed at her neck. Outside, the evening air feels so good. She pauses a moment, leaning, as lady-like as leaning against a building will allow. Well, that was a bust wasn’t it? Which way to the ’50’s?’ She smiles. ‘Lost in the fifties, tonight’ hums through her head. She starts away, singing the lyrics.
“Ronnie Milsap.”
She turns, her hand goes to her purse. “What?”
“Ronnie Milsap. One of his number ones. Do you like his music?”
Her hand leaves her purse. “Yes Todd. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside?”
“To be stood up again?” He hands a red rose. “And you left without this.”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to get away.”
“I figured that when I saw you skulking the walls. You looked ever so a criminal, you know,” warmth and humor in his voice.
“Really, Todd, don’t you need to get back?”
“I don’t give a darn. Wasn’t supposed to work tonight, anyway. Justin called in the middle of the afternoon, after someone took sick.”
“But you’ll be in trouble. And this.” She displays the rose. “You went back to the table for it?”
He nods.
“Oh my goodness! You’ll be fired.”
“I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Tonight--you have to eat, Lady.”
“I…I was thinking,” she looks left and right not sure from which way the cab had brought her. “I saw a burger place, 50’s theme, I thought I would get something there.”
“May I? I love the place. I could be your big brother. Make sure you’re safe.”
She looks into his face. For the first time, really looks. “I’d like that.”
He sweeps her to the inside, away from the curb, as they walk.
“Old fashioned manners.” She muses.
He smiles. “I’m sorry that your night didn’t go as planned, Katie.”
She doesn’t answer; she stops short. “As planned? You said that before . What was planned?”
“Justin. He saw your bio on a web site. A writer’s site that he’d tinkered at once. David Monroe had been in a few times. Justin thought you guys would be a good match.”
She wanted anger, but she couldn’t muster it. Actually, it was rather sweet, wasn’t? Almost a fairy tale if it had worked. She tucked it inside for a story line. She skipped her feet.
“Feeling better, then?”
“Yeah. Yes, I am. Better than I can remember.” They said no more for awhile. Their sound was the occasional swish of her leather soles on concrete. She began to whistle, but stopped, embarrassed.
“Go on.”
She shook her head, “I may whistle inside, if that’s okay”
He nods. “Besides Ronnie Milsap, what are your other likes?”
“I write. Can you believe that? I bet everyone you meet says that. That or a model.”
“You should be a model, Katie.” He looks quickly, head-to-toe to emphasize his sincerity. “But writing suits you, too. Though you could do both. I can just see you… four AM, Elvis on the CD, maybe Yanni on occasion, a half eaten candy bar nearby, pretty fingers whizzing away at the keyboard… ”
She relaxes more. She is comfortable. “What do you do, Todd? Oh, I’m sorry. I already knew. You work back…“ she lifts a hand, fingers indicate back across her shoulder.
“Nights I do. Days, I write too. Songs, that is. I’ve had two of them recorded. Not much of a big deal yet.”
“You’re too modest. If I had sold two stories, I’d be dancing in the street.”
“Then let’s do! Right now!” Excitement in his voice. “For good luck. And I may not be there when you sell them, though I bet it will be soon. I’m sure of it. C’mon.”
He leads her to the curb, steps down and places his hands on her waist to lift her and spin her onto the street with him. But when he has raised her, he holds her elevated for moments, then sets her gently near and wraps arms around her. She is so close that he feels her heartbeat.
“Todd, you’re crying.”
He wipes a sleeve against his eyes. “I’ve often walked this same route, Katie. Humming, ‘Where’s This Place Called Lonely Street’. Because that’s what this street was.“ He draws her closer, her breasts press to his chest. “But it isn’t any longer.”
She puts a finger to his lips. “I know. Now kiss me.”
Inside Just‘n Olde Pizzeria the pianist pushes back from the instrument. Announces on the sound system, to moans from listeners, that he will be on short break.
“I love you.” Sounds behind him.
He turns. Reaches both hands to the lovely face craning upward to the stage. She reaches for his and they kiss for a long moment, to applause from the diners. He lifts a hand in acknowledgement, and half the assembled, maybe more, stand, and the applause continues. He steps down to join his wife. Together, they wave to everyone.
“One couple requested this, Justin.” She hands a page of music. “Do you know it?”
He removes dark glasses and lays them on the piano bench. Takes the page. “Hardly. But this will do it. Which table?”
“Near the plants.”
He turns and salutes in that direction. They begin the walk to the back.
“Any news?” He asks.
“Not yet.” They pull closer to each other as they walk.
“There he is now.”
“David!” Justin acknowledges.
The tanned gentleman, who had played his part well this night, nears, hurrying, wearing a grin as wide as his face. A thumb and forefinger circled. “They’re dancing in the street!”
