"It finally looks lived in," Guy noted, as he looked around
his livingroom. The blanket tossed over the end of the
couch and Gwen's sweatshirt left behind reminded him
of her warm presence. He could still see her hopping
around on the cold floor wearing the sweatshirt and not
much more!
"Better put these back in lock-up," Guy said to himself
as he gathered his notebooks, files of printouts from
his message board site and all the assorted loose papers
from which Gwen had been reading. As he tucked them
away in his library he could still hear her voice reading
his words aloud.
She found meaning in the lines, between the lines and
inside the lines that everyone else had misssed.
As his computer came to life, Guy thought of the message
he wanted to send her. But first...
"Change that to Friday." The title line of another email
from Beth, plus directions and invitations.
"Have to step up the game." thought Guy.
He read over previous email exchanges, and when he got
back to page one, a new message from Gwen, "Tuesday,
six o'clock, my place. My notebooks, my soul laid bare
for you, and some deli treats!."
Tuesday found Gwen in the deli next to The Agency offices.
As she reached to take the shopping bag with a tall, crusty
loaf of French bread sticking out of the top, a screech and
crash filled the shop. All in the deli raced to the door where
they saw a car which had jumped the curb and crashed
the entrance of the antique shop next door.
Gwen sped around the corner to the parking ramp, wanting
to free her mind of the scene, find her car and drive carefully,
very carefully, home.
Guy was already there, raising the garage door when he saw
her car. Once inside, Guy put the deli bag on the counter,
while a visibly shaken Gwen pointed out her precious stack
of writing she had set out for him and then turned on the
kitchen TV to the local news.
"It's too soon," she said aloud. "TV crews could not have
gotten there that fast."
As the newscast was ending the anchor added an item,
"Full coverage on the late news about a crash on Main Street.
Car meets store. Possible injuries sustained."
"You saw this?" questioned Guy! "You poor honey. No wonder
you seem upset."
"Guy, just make yourself at home while I go change. I'll be
OK in a bit," smiled Gwen reassuringly.
A combination of Gwen's salad from her fridge with the
assorted deli items made a comforting meal. Gwen
encouraged Guy to continue reading her work, for she was
not in a talkative mode.
Hours later, after moving to the futon with the plump
pillows in the living room, Guy and Gwen had a better
understanding of each other. Guy was impressed with
the quality of her writing, she with the insight he shared.
"In an instant," Gwen spoke up, "lives changed, dreams
interrupted."
"You mean the accident?" Guy asked.
"Yes! Everyone always thinks there is more time..."
her voice trailed off.
"I've been thinking just that," Guy mused.
He explained about the change to Friday evening
for the reception for Juan Carlos, hoping it was
alright with her, suggesting they might make it
a weekend trip.
"Oh," interjected Gwen, "you know how you always remember
that you had written a story or poem about something, well,
I wrote one a bout a l-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ng weekend. Wait, I think
I can find it here," she said shuffling thru some old printouts.
Guy picked up a page with a familiar look, asking, "Gwen,
were you on this writing board?"
"Oh, that! Only for a month or so. It was right after the
divorce and I......." Gwen stopped.
Her words hung in the air while Guy stared at her.
Aghast, Gwen cried out, "Oh, I wanted to explain it better
than that. It just popped out."
"It doesn't matter," Guy said. "This is now. This is what is
important." His eyes went back to the paper. "Were you
'lostgirl'?" he queried.
Gwen blushed, "I bravely put some things on the site, but
there was only one guy who made any sense of it, 'oldmainer'!
He could read inside the lines, know what I was thinking!"
Guy smiled broadly, "And you disappeared. Not a word of
farewell, no email address left."
Gwen grabbed Guy's arm, "YOU? That was YOU?" She closed
her eyes looking upward, "It's a sign. It's got to be a sign."
"It's more than a sign," Guy smiled, as he took her in his
arms. "It's the future."
He made plans with Gwen to pick her up Thursday after
work for a shopping trip, some new items to spruce up
their wardrobes for the weekend.
Gwen knew already what she was going to wear, a smashing
black and white outfit. "And my three-inch heels," she
thought. "That would make me 5'10," she smirked,
considering she could almost look Beth in the eye.
Guy looked at her sideways, knowing exactly what she meant.
"Well, pack for the unexpected," he hinted.
The late night news revealed that only the vehicle and the
building suffered injuries, a relief to Gwen, but still a "sign."
AS Guy looked out the front door to see if it was snowing
again, he noticed mail extending out of Gwen's mailbox
and brought in the stack of catalogues and business mail.
Gwen was going to toss it on the table but noticed the
return address on one of the envelopes.
"Guy, wait a minute. I want to see what this is about. It's
the real estate firm that handled my lease," Gwen said as
she fumbled with the envelope. "Here, you open it—and
read it, please."
Guy read and shook his head. "It's good news and bad news.
Seems the owner's job transfer was reversed and he's
assigned back here. They are willing to refund all your rent
and deposits for the past year and a half, plus a bonus,
in consideration of the good care you have taken of
their property, and for your inconvenience."
"Inconvenience?" Gwen queried.
Guy continued, "You will have to agree to cancel your
lease and vacate in ten days. No legal problems if you agree.
Seems the owners really want to get into the house
that they bought just before he was transferred."
Gwen put her hands to her face, "Oh, my God, what should
I do?" she asked rhetorically, while simultaneously
calculating the numbers in her head. "That's almost 20K!"
"Good thing I furnished very sparsely with futons, not that
much to move! I could stay at Gerri's for a week or so,
but they don't have room for all my stuff. Oh, I have to
call Gerri," Gwen cried out in desperation. "Ten days
to find a new place. What if I can't?"
"Wait a minute—calm down! There is a solution. My big
back bedroom is empty. I was using it for storage until
I got motivated and moved all the boxes to the basement.
I have room for all your stuff!" he declared. And to himself
he thought, "And for you, too."
Gwen sat, wide-mouthed. "Signs," she said. "I always
believed in signs."
"Trust me," Guy said calmly. "It will all work out."
But his calm words masked his racing mind, as Guy
perceived the "signs" as life-altering.
"Neon," he said. "Neon signs, sparkling lights."
The shopping trip was taking on sparkling aspects
in Guy's mind...
To be continued...
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