Chapter Two: Clare
We met, believe it or not, at a parking spot.
No. I am not kidding. It was time to renew our Residential Parking Permit zones and lo and behold, she had forgotten to get hers done before the deadline. And naturally, being a traveller, I didn't get much use out of silly things like clocks and calendars. And technically, yes, I should not have been driving anywhere. But that's hindsight, and we all know how that ends up going.
She had just reached her car without the permit when I ran up behind her. She sighed frustratingly and turned around in a huff.
"I think you forgot something." I smiled and waved the permit at her.
She grinned, light flooding her entire face. "Oh I just come here for the three hour line, the permit is really the icing on top of the cake." She held out her hand and turned her head slightly to the side. I just had to figure out how to make her stay for a little bit longer...
"You know," I licked my lips and stumbled over my thoughts "I just noticed we have the same RPP zone. Maybe in honor of our zone compatibility, we should go out? Maybe to the Beau Thai?"
Her eyebrow raised "How do I know you're not a crazy stalker who's going to off me with my purse straps?"
I laughed. For the first time in years, I actually laughed. "Henry. Henry De Tamble. Ex-librarian, now studio manager, living with my co worker Gomez. I have a small personal collection of books-" and I am a time traveler, just so you know.
"Clare. No need to know my last name. Just know that I am Clare." She stuck out her hand, "And yes, we'll meet up at the Beau Thai. At six."
"Six. Gotcha."
And I just felt like in that moment if anything was ever true, it was this; A huge piece of my future just presented itself with a nice and tidy bow. And I would be damned if I didn't pay any attention to it.
We spent that night eating thai food, drinking like we were young, and learning curves. I discovered she loved Jane Eyre, and collected books with dedications. She was very into her artwork of paper making. Her current pieces were heading for the Tribune Tower. Pieces of birds and angels with giant wingspans, and harpies with holy heads. She was simply amazing at anything she had happened to set her mind to.
Clare discovered how many scars I had from a drunk father and the car accident that claimed my mother. Both were long dead, and the money had paid more than enough with both being prominent figures in the Chicago Opera. She found I had no real musical talent, besides plucking out a few basic tunes on a guitar, but I wasn't going to write a smash record. I'd prefer to be in the background anyways.
In light of the moon, I found her sweet spots underneath her breasts where her underwire dug in too tight against her milky white skin. I found the birthmarks between her thighs, the curvature of her ass, the way my hands fit on her waist under her ribcage. I found her wings, and I made her soar into heavens, to eventually drift down on clouds of bliss. I felt myself begin to shimmer, and I was gone.