Caught Bad
February 6th 2008 12:18
CAUGHT BAD
With winds exacerbated by speeding trains, Maryanne pulled her leather jacket around her and questioned, for the third time, whatever possessed her to accept a job that forced her to get transport at five-thirty in the morning.
Incoherent bellowing screeched from the sound system on the platform, teetering off until a voice in broken English informed commuters on this platform that their train was cancelled, adding that the next one would arrive in ten minutes.
"Shit!" Maryanne cursed aloud.
"Excuse me," a voice behind her said. "I'm really sorry to bother you."
Maryanne felt herself blush. At this hour of the morning there were rarely more than two or three commuters on the station. Even the station attendants didn't arrive until well after eight o'clock.
Forcing a smile Maryanne turned around.
A young blond woman, wearing far too little for this morning's winter chill, stood clutching her fake designer bag to her chest. "I'm so sorry to bother you. Yesterday you were here talking to a man, and you took the train into the city together,"
"Yes," Maryanne admitted, but before she could say anything further, the young woman continued, almost breathlessly.
"And it looked like you knew him and I wanted to ask you if you know when he'd be here again."
"Well, according to his shift detail, he's on day shift next week and should be here at about this time," Maryanne managed to get out before she again cut her off.
"He was really nice to me a few weeks ago. Franco, he said his name was."
Maryanne's gut automatically tightened. "Yes that is his name."
But the young woman continued talking as if Maryanne didn't say a word. "I missed my train home, to the Country. See, I only work in the city until Friday and then I travel home and he was ever so nice, even sat with me a while."
Maryanne merely nodded and forced a smile.
"He was so nice. He bought me a coffee and – " Maryanne could feel heat rise from her feet. " – he even introduced me to his work colleagues and asked them to find a way that I could get home. It was the last train you see and I was stranded – " the heat was rising up Maryanne's legs; hotter as this young woman's voice became more excitable and higher pitched. "And you know what?"
Maryanne pursed her lips. She wasn't cold anymore.
"He was really, really nice and I just wanted to see him again and say thank you."
I bet – Maryanne thought to herself. It was just then that their train pulled into the platform and Maryanne was surprised to find the young woman follow her into the carriage and sit next to her.
"Do you know how I can get in contact with him?"
Straightening her back, Maryanne became the epitome of professionalism as she tautly replied, "At the station itself, where you missed your train." If that was where they had met, Maryanne couldn't help thinking to herself.
"Oh, I won't be going home for another month. I wanted to see him sooner."
The smile was still plastered to Maryanne's face but her fingers were clasping her own fake designer bag so tightly her knuckles were almost white. "I'll be seeing him tomorrow –" Maryanne said, forcing herself to appear calm and indifferent. "I can pass on a message for you. What's your name?"
The young woman immediately perked up like a preened cat and, Maryanne could swear, purred, "Yvette."
French!
"Gee, you're real nice – " Yvette continued talking, playing with her hair – her long blond hair.
Maryanne's station was coming up.
Blinking to clear the vision that was suddenly beginning to blur, Maryanne rose and walked to the train doors.
"How come you know so much about him?" Yvette called out to her.
The train stopped.
Before forcing the train doors open, Maryanne angrily turned to Yvette and loudly proclaimed, with no smile, "I'm the wife!"
Maryanne arose before the alarm sounded. Being a Saturday, she really didn't have to, but she enjoyed the peace a quiet of the early morning, when her family was still asleep and she could rise and think – especially this morning.
Dressing briskly and quietly, she watched her husband sleep, or more accurately, snore. With his shift running into over time, she never waited up for him, which was a good thing. The snoring would have kept her up.
Treading carefully, Maryanne approached her husband, learned down and kissed him. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her, tightening, pushing her back to bed.
"Darling," she purred in his ear.
"Yes, my love," he whispered back, his eyes closed and his voice thick with sleep.
"Yvette says hello."
Franco's eyes flew open.
Maryanne felt the slack in his arms wrapped around her waist. "Yeah," she continued, smiling sweetly; her eyes locked with the confused ones staring back at her.
"What are you talking about?" he growled
Oh, this is too good to be true, Maryanne thought to her self, casually adjusting her clothes; and making her way to the bedroom door.
"I don't know any – who are you talking about?"
Leaning against the door frame, Maryanne sweetly informed him, "Yvette, Country girl. Missed her train and you offered to help her get home."
"So what? I help out a lot of people!" Franco shouted, sitting up. "That's my job!"
Maryanne shrugged and left their bedroom. Franco jumped out of bed. "That's my job!" he shouted, rushing after her.
"Yvette just couldn't help but gush about how wonderful you were and would she ever see you again," Maryanne coed, giggling now.
"What?"
Their bleary eyed teenage son picked that time to walk out of his bedroom, landing smack between his parents. "What's going on?"
An indignant Franco stood his ground, in his boxer shorts, and shouted, "Your mother just scared off another one of my girlfriends!"
...000…
[ Text and original characters copyright © 2008 by Teresa Strati ]
With winds exacerbated by speeding trains, Maryanne pulled her leather jacket around her and questioned, for the third time, whatever possessed her to accept a job that forced her to get transport at five-thirty in the morning.
Incoherent bellowing screeched from the sound system on the platform, teetering off until a voice in broken English informed commuters on this platform that their train was cancelled, adding that the next one would arrive in ten minutes.
"Shit!" Maryanne cursed aloud.
"Excuse me," a voice behind her said. "I'm really sorry to bother you."
Maryanne felt herself blush. At this hour of the morning there were rarely more than two or three commuters on the station. Even the station attendants didn't arrive until well after eight o'clock.
Forcing a smile Maryanne turned around.
A young blond woman, wearing far too little for this morning's winter chill, stood clutching her fake designer bag to her chest. "I'm so sorry to bother you. Yesterday you were here talking to a man, and you took the train into the city together,"
"Yes," Maryanne admitted, but before she could say anything further, the young woman continued, almost breathlessly.
"And it looked like you knew him and I wanted to ask you if you know when he'd be here again."
"Well, according to his shift detail, he's on day shift next week and should be here at about this time," Maryanne managed to get out before she again cut her off.
"He was really nice to me a few weeks ago. Franco, he said his name was."
Maryanne's gut automatically tightened. "Yes that is his name."
But the young woman continued talking as if Maryanne didn't say a word. "I missed my train home, to the Country. See, I only work in the city until Friday and then I travel home and he was ever so nice, even sat with me a while."
Maryanne merely nodded and forced a smile.
"He was so nice. He bought me a coffee and – " Maryanne could feel heat rise from her feet. " – he even introduced me to his work colleagues and asked them to find a way that I could get home. It was the last train you see and I was stranded – " the heat was rising up Maryanne's legs; hotter as this young woman's voice became more excitable and higher pitched. "And you know what?"
Maryanne pursed her lips. She wasn't cold anymore.
"He was really, really nice and I just wanted to see him again and say thank you."
I bet – Maryanne thought to herself. It was just then that their train pulled into the platform and Maryanne was surprised to find the young woman follow her into the carriage and sit next to her.
"Do you know how I can get in contact with him?"
Straightening her back, Maryanne became the epitome of professionalism as she tautly replied, "At the station itself, where you missed your train." If that was where they had met, Maryanne couldn't help thinking to herself.
"Oh, I won't be going home for another month. I wanted to see him sooner."
The smile was still plastered to Maryanne's face but her fingers were clasping her own fake designer bag so tightly her knuckles were almost white. "I'll be seeing him tomorrow –" Maryanne said, forcing herself to appear calm and indifferent. "I can pass on a message for you. What's your name?"
The young woman immediately perked up like a preened cat and, Maryanne could swear, purred, "Yvette."
French!
"Gee, you're real nice – " Yvette continued talking, playing with her hair – her long blond hair.
Maryanne's station was coming up.
Blinking to clear the vision that was suddenly beginning to blur, Maryanne rose and walked to the train doors.
"How come you know so much about him?" Yvette called out to her.
The train stopped.
Before forcing the train doors open, Maryanne angrily turned to Yvette and loudly proclaimed, with no smile, "I'm the wife!"
...000…
Maryanne arose before the alarm sounded. Being a Saturday, she really didn't have to, but she enjoyed the peace a quiet of the early morning, when her family was still asleep and she could rise and think – especially this morning.
Dressing briskly and quietly, she watched her husband sleep, or more accurately, snore. With his shift running into over time, she never waited up for him, which was a good thing. The snoring would have kept her up.
Treading carefully, Maryanne approached her husband, learned down and kissed him. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her, tightening, pushing her back to bed.
"Darling," she purred in his ear.
"Yes, my love," he whispered back, his eyes closed and his voice thick with sleep.
"Yvette says hello."
Franco's eyes flew open.
Maryanne felt the slack in his arms wrapped around her waist. "Yeah," she continued, smiling sweetly; her eyes locked with the confused ones staring back at her.
"What are you talking about?" he growled
Oh, this is too good to be true, Maryanne thought to her self, casually adjusting her clothes; and making her way to the bedroom door.
"I don't know any – who are you talking about?"
Leaning against the door frame, Maryanne sweetly informed him, "Yvette, Country girl. Missed her train and you offered to help her get home."
"So what? I help out a lot of people!" Franco shouted, sitting up. "That's my job!"
Maryanne shrugged and left their bedroom. Franco jumped out of bed. "That's my job!" he shouted, rushing after her.
"Yvette just couldn't help but gush about how wonderful you were and would she ever see you again," Maryanne coed, giggling now.
"What?"
Their bleary eyed teenage son picked that time to walk out of his bedroom, landing smack between his parents. "What's going on?"
An indignant Franco stood his ground, in his boxer shorts, and shouted, "Your mother just scared off another one of my girlfriends!"
...000…
[ Text and original characters copyright © 2008 by Teresa Strati ]
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