THE LONELIEST MAN EVER
"And that bloke who was in the rocket, right, he was the loneliest man ever...in the world."Karl Pilkington
Saturday 9:00am
It was his day off. More to the point it was Mirabelle's day off and since the outburst yesterday she hadn't bothered to assign him anymore work. After he had seen Chelsea home last night he returned inside the shop and found his dinner waiting still warm under a kitchen towel. Julia was out for a walk and Mirabelle appeared to have turned in early. He had sat down with a sigh and committed himself to an evening of solitude; something so ordinary in his city apartment, yet something so uncomfortable here on the islands.
Now, on Saturday, he hoped to make amends with her erstwhile den mother. But he woke up late. When he finally managed to tame his hair down into his hat he came across both Mirabelle and Felicia sitting at the table taking their midmorning tea. To his surprise they both gave him a welcoming smile and gestured he sit with them. He was like a deer in the headlights that could see the impending doom on the dashboard read one thing: Intervention. He paled but sat.
Felicia began, her joyful fox-like eyes the same as ever, "Don't worry so much, Vaughn." She reached to kindly pat the back of his hand that rested on the table. "Mirabelle's told me everything."
That didn't make him worry any less considering this was the mother of the kid he'd bullied last night. For all he knew she was trying to put him off-guard to commence some assault on a pressure point that would kill him instantly: an art passed down for generations and known only by long-time islanders. Nonetheless he listened.
"If you're so concerned for the little lass why don't you buy a feather?" Mirabelle nodded her agreement. Vaughn was aghast. Just what did these biddies think was going on? His hands clenched and unclenched on the table. Mirabelle took this as a sign to pour him tea. Felicia tittered.
"Feather!" he managed to spit out finally. They nodded earnestly, seeming to creep in and fill his vision more and more from all sides. His breath quickened. His face flushed. "Marry-"They nodded again more excited this time. He shut down. There was a vacant stare as he took the first sip of his tea with an amazingly sure hand. The ladies watched him a moment longer hoping for further reaction and then fell back into their seats disappointed.
Felicia pressed her palm to her cheek and turned to Mirabelle, "That's too bad. Poor girl."
Mirabelle bobbed, sipped from her cup, "Chelsea is so patient."
Vaughn couldn't fathom why he was so cursed to keep living in these conditions.
Saturday 2:00pm
Mirabelle and Felicia had wandered off. Julia had still not reappeared. The shop was empty and locked with only a stray cowboy perched in the corner that suited him best. There was no knock at the door from a cute young farmhand who lived north of the village, not for hours, and he wad beginning to suspect that it would remain that way for the rest of the day.
He could hear the clock tick. He could hear his own breathing. He was a little hungry.
Instead of contemplating on the sack of feed beside him and whether it would be wise or not to eat from it like a dog he turned his brain back to the conversation this morning: Was that really what Chelsea wanted? Marriage? Even his mental voice seemed to stutter on the word.
It wasn't like he considered himself a man fearful of commitment. Quite the opposite in fact: he'd always looked forward to being the pillar of strength in a household. Caring husband, proud father, and bread-winner. He just hadn't had the chance to add Chelsea to that equation. It was only a week ago that he'd worked up the gall to tell her of his respect. Only days ago that he had first kissed her, and she was the first girl he'd ever given a real far away that all seemed.
Now she claimed his thoughts. So many times in the last few days he'd come to realize he was thinking about her. During mealtimes, doing menial tasks, while brushing his teeth; there were no specific triggers. Presently it was her kiss. His mind had taken him there before he even had the chance to bang his head against the wall to clear it.
Her infinitely soft lips and sweet breath. The way her breast lifted and fell when she got close. Her trembling eyelashes and slight gasp as she was taken by his tongue.
Vaughn pulled his Stetson down hard and kicked the feed, his pointed toe making little to no dent in the density of it. He wanted her here more than ever. While they could be alone. While he could show her exactly how he was feeling and clear her of any doubts.
A little frustration for you all, I know you love it.
