Greeting the Day~ Chance ~ or Destiny

Greeting the Day ~ Chance Encounter, or Destiny

George sips from his second cup of coffee as filtered sunlight peeks through the window on an early spring morning, illuminating the sparkling clear vase on the table filled with sixteen years of joyful memories. The centerpiece of his life no longer sits across from him, sharing this time of peace, greeting the morning before commencing the day’s routines.

The crystal vase casts rainbows across the table as the sun carves its path across the horizon. One ray draws from memory tinkling laughter at falling confetti now scattered through the mementos; another lights the feathery lock of their first-born’s baby hair. Still others evoke mirthful laughter over the seashell with a real pearl and a snicker at scratchy sand in beach shorts. George again hears the snap of the twig saved from their first Christmas tree, now encased with the eyes and pits of assorted seeds and nuts gathered during walks through the park. Lavender teases his nose as the sun crinkles finer the dried nosegay from her wedding corsage.

George can see her across the table, gazing at the stalactites dripping their nourishing dew upon the frozen crusted ground, sun warmed as the smile the image writes upon his face, a fingertip caressing the lip of glass. The splatter of raindrops displacing the rainbows on the window dispels the sounds of times past.

A single tear falls upon the mementos in the vase as he stands to rinse the single coffee cup. He grabs his jacket with a final thought for the memories, locking the door behind himself, leaving to begin his day’s tasks.

***

Maura boarded the bus, paying her fare as she scanned the extended limbs and bags she hadn’t missed climbing over for a week. Today was a Monday holiday, and schools were closed, but her office was open. Her knight in shining armor wouldn’t be by to pick her up today. It was but a week ago, as if on cue from the first warning drops of a torrential cloudburst, he entered her life just ahead of the storm and the bus.

A dapper gent in a white shirt and cap stopped his car at the bus stop and offered Maura a ride downtown. Without apparent conscious thought, her arm reached for the passenger door, and it just felt right that she board the waiting chariot. They exchanged names, jobs, and spent the next half hour in pleasant conversation. He was there again the next day, and the next, through the rest of the week. In his company, she felt safe, unafraid, at ease for the first time in fifteen years.

Maura wasn’t looking for anyone. Her finger still bore the shadow of a wedding ring recently removed at her divorce. With Rick’s departure, she exchanged fifteen years of increasing reticence and fear for nights spent alone, but safe. Her former husband had grown increasingly distant and self-centered, choosing in her place the company of a bottle of whatever was readily available. It had been over a year since he had expressed any desire in Maura, other than for her paycheck. She felt welcome relief at his departure with a sweet young thing after Maura won a share of the Company lottery pool. Six figures would have paid off the house and car, but she let him take the money and the car in exchange for her freedom.

Her knight in the black sedan wasn’t an Adonis, preferred Bach to Rock, but he was charming, smart, and he told a story well. He actually asked her opinion about things, and responded as if he were interested in her answer. Maura recalled the memory of his smile and wondered only for a moment at why she missed the morning commute together more than the drink they had shared at his house last Friday evening. He had stopped there to let his dogs out before he took her to dinner. When he dropped her off afterward, their fingertips touched in a tender farewell. He opened a doorway to normal and introduced a taste of stability where before there was but the instability of a volatile relationship.

Perhaps, if he remembers her tomorrow morning, she’ll return his invitation to dinner. Maura smiled as she boarded the bus and paid her fare. There’s always the chance he’ll say yes?


***

George finishes his coffee as the first salvo of raindrops splatters against the bay window. Although the chair facing his across the cozy round kitchen table is empty, he smiles at a memory more vivid than the cascading water. For nearly twenty years, he and Caroline would sit here and savor the start of their day by sharing the short time between sending the kids off to school and beginning their morning commute. Sometimes they’d discuss plans for the house, vacations, the kids, but most often just sip their coffee in comfortable silence while the watched the birds leave their nests as they heralded the dawn.

He had taken early retirement three years ago, planning on using his government pension to spend more time with his family, but cancer had changed his plans. Caroline went from diagnosis to death in six months. Yes, he was there for the kids, but now they were ready to move on as well, as he and Caroline had planned. What they had not planned for, or ever anticipated, was her sudden departure.

George is the only one who, after three years, has yet to move on. He keeps the house the way Caroline had arranged it over the years, her collections and paintings organized just as she had left them. He says it’s for the kids’ sake, so they can feel their mother’s presence, but that isn’t quite the whole truth. Her essence permeates the air, the walls, the yard and, yes, this little corner redolent with ghosts of dreams.


In keeping with his morning routine, George then turns away from the chair and stands to wash last night’s dishes. Not much need to run the dishwasher when one lives alone.

Today, however, he deviates from his accustomed weekly routine of breakfast, teaching class, then perhaps running an errand before returning home to walk the dogs and spend another evening reading, or watching an old movie. It’s a Monday holiday, and class does not meet, so his daytime hours are free. He had gone back to work part-time a year ago, teaching a couple of classes at the Academy. Not only was it something to do, since the kids were both off to college now, but a way to challenge himself and connect with the outside world, a world he had allowed to grow more and more distant as he passed a growing number of his days in solitude.

George starts drying the dishes as he ponders his new challenge, refinishing his den. Perhaps, like his kids said, it was time to start renovating and rebuilding his life. This was the first room he decided to change. It had once been a nursery and playroom, but with both kids out on their own now, there really was no need for it.

It was during such a cleansing rain, but a week ago today, that a chance encounter precipitated the catalyst to this endeavor. She stood at the bus stop, framed by a rainbow that shimmered for but a moment before giving way to the first salvo of a spring shower. Without conscious thought, he pulled up to the bus stop and offered her a ride. She hesitated but a moment, eyes glancing at the empty back seat, then up at the swiftly building clouds, before slipping into the passenger seat with a smile. Maura’s office wasn’t really out of his way to the Academy, and he stopped for her again the next day, and the rest of the workweek.

George enjoyed their morning encounters, brief though they were. She shared little of her life, but freely expressed considered opinions in conversation and appeared to enjoy his stories, abbreviated though they were by the half-hour commute downtown. She cajoled him with her wit and truly appeared interested in the details of his common, ordinary life, past and present. Maura’s eyes were like one-way mirrors, absorbing the answers to her questions, returning witticisms and thoughtful suggestions with alacrity. After a long staff meeting last Friday kept him downtown until rush hour, he was more than just pleased that she accepted his offer of dinner and a ride home when he called her at work.

It was during dinner that he first mentioned to Maura the idea of creating a den in his house. Her studied interest encouraged him. He was pleased by her approval, and although he smiled at her comments encouraging what she called his “sense of whimsy,” he found himself implementing some of the changes they had discussed. If he could but control its pace, like the depth of the green paint by the pressure on the brush, change could lead to new vistas.

Maybe it was possible to embrace the present, without giving up the joy of the past. He thought of Maura waiting at the bus stop, as he had been waiting, for that moment in time when each was ready to take a chance on life.

Sipping his second cup of coffee seated across from the empty chair, he wasn't surprised to see Caroline’s bright smile morph into Maura’s wistful grin. The image was as vivid as the fresh paint permeating the house. He smiled back at the vision. Perhaps one day they would greet the day together.

He ran his finger across the rim of the wine glass he had just wiped dry, recalling the lips sipping as she smiled, her eyes so like Caroline’s, yet different.

***

© manga-kate

Submitted without success ^_& to Glimmertrain Press April 2007
Submitted with renewed hope and honored by Second Place Award July 2007 in "Invalid Item"