Like Glass: Chapter 2
If you’re just barely joining us, catch up with Chapter 1 here. Remember: there’ll be a random drawing on Wednesday, January 28th for a free digital copy of the novel, so make sure to leave a comment!
Rarely was Bill one to try and set Rob up with a date. Occasionally he’d find a girl that might be interested in his younger brother, or that he thought Rob would like, but it invariably became another conquest of his own. Knowing that made this blind date seem all the more interesting as Rob walked in the late April evening to a coffee shop on Los Valles Avenue, tucked away in one of the lower-rent areas of town and only a few blocks from his apartment.
He knew the coffee shop somewhat well; he’d spent a handful of evenings there on the patio outside, sipping the cheapest special they had at the time and smoking while other students came and went. Sometimes he’d sit there with a book or two studying for a test when he got tired of staring at the walls of his apartment; sometimes it was just somewhere to go.
Had it not been for Bill’s insistence that this girl was Absolutely Perfect for Rob he wouldn’t have gone; blind dates were not exactly his idea of how to best spend a Friday night. However, knowing that Bill was hardly one to exaggerate when it came to issues of the fairer sex, Rob set aside his books for the night. He put on the single pair of dress pants he owned and a shirt that was only slightly wrinkled, and made his way in a mixture of curiosity, anticipation, and the God-I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this self consciousness that stems from blind dates.
While he walked, he tried picturing the “devilishly hot” girl that would be waiting. It was difficult, as “devilishly hot” had been all that Bill had given him to work with. He tried for a moment to think of past girls that Bill had so designated, and knew it was pointless at the size of the list he made with only a moment’s thought: one-hundred pound brunette waifs, athletic blondes, and even a redhead that had been at least twice Rob’s size had all fit that description from his brother at one time or another. He gave up trying and left Ms. Absolutely Perfect to the fates.
He opened the door to the coffee shop, the aroma of cappuccinos and lattes filling the air, suddenly aware that he couldn’t remember the girl’s name—Missy, Trixie, Kristy, something like that. He wasn’t terribly worried though; he knew he could play it off by looking around stupidly and making it obvious that he didn’t know who he was looking for. She’d come up to him and say “Rob? Hi, I’m…” and fill in the blank for him.
The interior of the shop was deserted, save for one rather large guy about Rob’s own age, staring intently at a text book as though it held the secret to the universe. If the guy in the corner was Bill’s idea of an Absolutely Perfect girl, this would most likely be a fairly short-lived blind date.
Seeing no other patrons and no specials marked on the black board above the counter, he ordered a regular coffee from the barista, and briefly considered between the fancy glass ashtrays with the coffee shop’s logo on it and the plain, disposable tinfoil ashtrays. Knowing he’d do best to keep his risks for embarrassment to a minimum, he chose one of the disposable ones. If he did happen to drop it when she arrived (as of course he would, always the lady killer), he figured the tinfoil was less apt to shatter on the concrete than the glass ones. With his smoking paraphernalia decided on, he took a seat outside to begin what he hoped was a short wait.
After about an hour, as twilight inched onward to full night, he started to realize that Absolutely Perfect was standing him up. He’d already sipped his way through two coffees and was halfway through his third as this thought started to announce its presence more frequently and with a little more insistence. By the time the barista had come out to bring him a fourth one, he’d accepted the fact that this Friday night was better suited to just enjoying his coffee and cigarettes out in the cool April air.
Of course, this acceptance served the fates well, as it gave them an excuse to make him realize he’d only brought half a pack of cigarettes, of which he’d smoked the last one. The barista saw him shaking his pack hopelessly as she sat down his fourth cup.
“Here,” she said, tossing a couple of 100’s-length cigarettes on the table. She grabbed the disposable ashtray and replaced it with one of the glass ones. He didn’t argue; with the chances of his date showing up growing slimmer by the moment, he was no longer worried about it shattering at the most inopportune time.
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“Not a problem.”
He looked up at her; she was far from unattractive. The runways of Paris wouldn’t see her any time soon, but she would likewise never be left wanting for a date. Her hair was almost shoulder-length, dark brown or black—the streetlamps didn’t provide enough light to allow him to distinguish—and with a slight wave. She was thin, but not anorexic. He doubted she’d beat him in arm wrestling, but she looked like she could probably take him in a foot race (even ignoring the effects five years of smoking assuredly had wrought on his potential for a spot on the Olympics).
The lighting in the coffee shop did her no justice at all, with the stark fluorescent white stealing all trace of life from her face. While the street lights did little better, they at least gave more shadows, gently highlighting the soft curves and angles of her face.
“So, has it sunk in yet?” she asked, breaking his reverie as she cleaned the table next to his.
“What do you mean?”
She smiled at him, playfully, and not unkindly. “You’re obviously waiting for someone who hasn’t shown up yet. I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but I don’t think she’s coming.”
“Yeah, it was starting to. Blind date.” He lit one of the cigarettes she’d given him. Much too light for his taste, but he hadn’t even had to ask her for one.
“Ahh…I always hated those.”
“Me too.” She laughed.
“Obviously. Why else would you be here?” He chuckled a little; she somehow put him at ease, regardless of the comments at his expense.
“Well, I hate to tell you this, but I think your wait’s going to have to end pretty quickly here. We’re about to close up for the night.”
“That’s fine. I was going to leave after this one anyways,” he said, indicating his coffee with the cigarette. “You guys are closing up awfully early for a Friday though, aren’t you?” It was only a little after nine; he’d never been here this late on a Friday before, but it seemed strange to him. She shrugged.
“That’s just when we close. Here,” she tossed a couple more cigarettes on the table for him. “For kicking you out early.” She walked off before he could refuse or thank her. He sipped his coffee as quickly as its temperature would allow, placed the last couple of dollar bills he’d set aside for the night’s entertainment on the table as a tip, and walked out.
Rob had only gotten so far as the next block when he heard a female voice call after him.
“Hey! Stranger! Wait up!” He turned around, curious but cautious—he knew this wasn’t the greatest area of town, although he doubted a woman would be calling at him to take a couple of shots at him.
Instead of a semi-automatic pistol though, the woman calling after him had nothing more powerful than her purse. While it could serve as a handy blunt instrument in the right hands, he doubted she was calling after him to bludgeon him with it for leaving a lousy tip. He waited patiently for a few seconds as she caught up to him, jogging slightly.
“Hey,” she said again as she neared him, panting slightly from the short run. “This’ll sound stupid as I stand here trying to catch my breath, but you know those smokes I gave you?” He nodded, though she continued before she could’ve noticed. “Those were my last ones. Can I get one of them back from you? I hate to ask, but it’s a decent walk home and I could really go for a cigarette on the way.”
“Sure,” he said as he fished his pack from his pocket. The cigarettes hadn’t fit very well, being longer than his normal brand, and so the box had crumpled them slightly when he’d forced it in his pocket. She laughed at the slightly curved cigarette he held out to her, but took it anyways.
“Cute.” She lit it and took a deep drag, then sighed as she exhaled. “Nothing like a good smoke after a long day at work.”
“Very true.” She started walking, and he hesitated.
“Mind walking a girl home through a bad neighborhood? You can think of it as earning the cigarettes if you’d like.” He considered the piles of clothes in his apartment that he needed to carry to the laundromat, the dishes in the sink, the four tests he had next week that he hadn’t even started to study for, and countless other things he should be doing with his newly-opened Friday night. This consideration took all of half a second.
“Sure, I’d be glad to.”
“Do you have a name? Or should I just call you ‘hey you’?”
“Rob. Robert. Or Rob.”
“Okay, Rob-Robert-Or-Rob. I’m Janet.” She put her cigarette in her left hand and stuck her right hand out. He took it and shook it gently.
“Nice to meet you Janet. How about we leave it at ‘Rob’?”
“Works for me.” He lit a cigarette of his own and they started walking. “So, Rob, what do you do when you aren’t waiting patiently for a girl who doesn’t show up?”
“School. Music. You? I mean, other than the coffee shop.”
“School. History major. Why music?”
“Just seemed like the thing to do at the time.” She laughed.
“Sounds like a nice philosophy to base your future on.”
“Well, I’ve played piano for a long time. Never really thought about doing much else. What about you? Why history?”
“The stories. Wars, politics, murder, incest, adultery. Hollywood has nothing on real life.” He laughed again.
They walked in amicable silence for a short while, and he found it both natural and strange that the silence wasn’t awkward. It was a contented silence, the silence of old friends who had long since found the spot where they could be comfortable not saying anything.
This was a part of town he was only vaguely familiar with, and he could understand why she probably wasn’t crazy about walking home alone if she had to. The houses were all low-income rentals, maybe “handy-man specials” to a real estate agent spinning them for a sale. As if reading his thoughts, she spoke again.
“I hate walking through here. It’s just…I don’t know…it’s just ugly.”
“You think so?” She looked at him, surprised, as if he’d just announced his undying affection for all things unholy.
“Well, yeah. Just look at it.”
“Ah, but there’s a beauty to be found in every darkness.” He said this more suavely than he’d ever thought possible, as though he were quoting an old classic movie or book.
“Is that Shakespeare?”
“Maybe; I thought I made it up. I think this is beautiful though,” he said, indicating the worn out houses. Again, she looked at him as though discovering a resident insanity he’d hidden quite well until that moment. He smiled at her. “Well, look at it. That yard over there? It’s freshly cut, even though most of the grass is dead and most of the yard is dirt. There’s some toys laying there—they’ve got kids. The house is falling apart, but you can see where they’re trying to piece it back together, even paint it a little. I’ll bet that car in the driveway wouldn’t make it even just to Riverside, but it’s clean, looks like they might even have waxed it. They probably take better care of it than most people with a car straight off the lot.”
“Okay, and how is that beautiful?”
“Well, in this whole neighborhood, no one gives a damn. No one cares about their house, their cars, nothing. You can tell by the way everything looks. But that house,” he indicated his earlier example again, “they care. They’re trying. While the rest of the neighborhood is a wasteland, they’re trying to pull themselves up, trying to bring a little life to a desert. It’s beautiful.” They walked silently for a few minutes, and Rob started to think it was stupid of him to get preachy, or philosophical, or whatever he’d just done.
“You’re right,” she said finally, confusing him by using the one phrase he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it would’ve been closer to “Okay, I need to turn here and you’re freaking me out so bye-bye” than “You’re right.”
“What?”
“I said you’re right. It is beautiful. In a weird, non-beautiful kind of way.” She added the last almost hurriedly. In later years, amid the countless times he relived that night, he would realize that it was her way of trying to maintain a front he’d somehow sneaked through. Of course he didn’t realize it at the time, and took it as an attempt at another joke. He laughed quietly.
They turned another corner, and right as Rob was thanking God for letting Janet live so far away as to ensure this night would never end, she stopped.
“Well, this is it. Chez Edwards.” He looked up at the small house and almost laughed again; it was in only slightly better shape than those she had found so disturbing only moments ago. He noticed a slight anxiety in her that hadn’t been there before, and realized she might be thinking the exact same thing.
“It’s nice, just you?”
“And Lisa, my sister. You going to be alright walking home?”
“Yeah, just a couple of blocks away,” he lied.
“Liar. You have no clue where you are, do you?” He laughed; she seemed more at ease now at least.
“No, I don’t, but I’ll manage.”
“Well, thank you for walking a girl home,” Janet said demurely, then stepped over and kissed him gently on the corner of his mouth. He stared blankly at her for a moment and she laughed. “Okay, this is when you say ‘you’re welcome.’” He smiled.
“You’re welcome.” She started up the walk to her house, and he called after her. “Hey, wait, how do I get home?” She turned to him.
“Los Valles is only a block that way,” she pointed behind him. “Can’t miss it.” He waved sheepishly at her back as she stepped inside, then turned around and started walking.
As he reached the corner where the street he was on intersected Los Valles, he found that their half-hour walk through the neighborhood had ended less than five minutes away from the coffee shop.
Don’t forget to leave a comment to be entered in the drawing for a free digital copy of the full novel! And, if you’re impatient and want to purchase the full novel in paperback for only $9.95, go to https://www.createspace.com/3332699.
The winner for this chapter will be picked at 4:00 PM Mountain time, Wednesday January 28th. The third chapter should go up pretty close to then 
Comments
4 Responses to “Like Glass: Chapter 2”
Leave a Reply
Networked Blogs (on Facebook)
This was very very good. I am enjoying it immensely. Have you written anything else?
Thanks, and yes, I have — you can check out the “Writing” section above for some short stories, and I have a sequel to Like Glass, called Shattered, that I’m prepping for publication.
–Matt
Wow – cant’ wait to see where this walk leads…
Congrats Teresa — you won! You should have a copy of the novel in your email inbox now. Let me know if you have any problems with it.
–Matt