(working title) Love Always

Darrien paced outside of his {office building] looked up and down the crowded block of Fifth Avenue. I can't believe she's late; today of all days, he thought

He glanced at his watch for what felt for the one- hundredth time, and finally heaved a frustrated sigh. He worked hard not to grit his teeth in anger, a habit that had sent him to the dentist more often than he'd have liked. Shaking his head he stepped up to the car door, immediately his driver rolled down the window most likely anticipating another apology and more insisting that they wait a few more minutes for his chronically late wife. Before, he could speak his driver of six years spoke up.



"Sir, I apologize if I overstepping but if we don't leave soon we will certainly be caught in mid- day traffic", he said.



“Thanks Charles, we can go now", .Darrien replied.

He moved to the door before Charles could jump out once again to open it, turning one last time in the hope of catching a glimpse of his wife. Finally, he got in as the car moved away from the curb he pulled his cell from his pocket yet again. As the phone rang he pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease the tension he felt creeping up, only to have it settle in at full force as once again he listened to her cell's outgoing message.



"Hi, you’ve reached the mailbox of Celeste Thomson. Most likely I'm working and the music is way too loud. Please leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Darrien, if this is you I love you but you worry too much! See you soon! "



As the beep came on he couldn't help but laugh to himself, he did worry a lot about her. She was the most important person in his life, and lately their marriage had taken so many blows that felt as though they were apart much more than they were together. She said it was work, but sometimes he wondered if that was truly all it was.



“Celeste, it's me....Where are you? I've been waiting for an hour now and...You know what I've got to go, one of us should be there. I guess this isn't as important to you as you said it was. Call me when you get this or any of my other messages please I'm starting to worry."



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Celeste glanced at the phone in her hand. She knew should answer but she had a good idea what he would say, and she didn't want anymore guilt than she already had. He'd already called her five times seven times in the last hour, and as the phone beeped she realized she was up to 4 messages. I'm coming, I'm coming she thought I can only walk so fast. She was moving so fast that she didn't see the group of six coming from the opposite direction. She collided with one lady who was dressed like she lived in the dark. Upon closer observation she realized they all looked as though they hadn’t seen the inside of a bathroom in weeks, and each had their own array of worn and layered clothing that she was sure lent to their collective scent. They stumbled away from each other, and Celeste dropped her purse spilling the contents of her Louis Vutton wallet out onto the street. The girl let loose a string of curses, calling her stupid and blind as her friends smirked and laughed in the background. They encouraged her to let Celeste have it, and formed a semi- circle around her as she squatted to pick up her things. Celeste fought to maintain her composure; she used to be just like these kids, knew what it was to hang with the type people. So she immediately started to calculate how long this particular fight would take, because backing down was never an option.



“I think I need some compensation for your interruption to my day", the girl spit at her.



She moved close enough for Celeste to smell her breath and the body odor that revealed that she probably lived on the streets. She locked eyes with Celeste, as she stood to her full five foot 6 inches, in an effort to intimidate her with a look alone. But, Celeste just smiled and held her ground as she shifted her weight to her right foot.

I don’t have time for this; she must think I’m the average rich chick. Look at me ma am so not the one. I know all you see is labels, but I’m about to go Hulk on you ass.



“I think you should continue on your way, and I'll continue on mine", Celeste replied. She pushed out her arm in an effort to stave off the close body contact keeping her hand in the side pocket of her large purse; but the girl used the weight of her arm in momentum to know knock her off balance.



“This rich bitch thinks this is a game!” she screamed.

“I guess you need to see how serious I am, Scurry, I need that bag for my collection. She won’t miss it and we can call this lil’ incident even. Gon’ and get that for mama baby.”



As one young boy, who couldn’t have been more than ten years old, moved to grab her purse she brought her hand up and out, flipping her thumb under the safety switch all in one movement.

God I wish I was packing heat.

The can of police issue mace wasn’t her weapon of choice but in a crunch it would have to do.  She pointed at the boy named Scurry’s face and sprayed two short burst into is face.



“Aaahhhh, aaahhhh!” he screamed.

He couldn’t “scurry” away fast enough and tripped over his shoestrings after taking a few faltered steps. As he rolled on the ground grabbing at his eyes, cursing, and calling for his mama to help; Celeste brought her hand back up quickly taking aim at the group now advancing on her.



“I don’t want no problems” she yelled “All I wanna do is go on about my day!” She backed away form them as she spoke moving her head around frantically seeking an escape route.