HAHA!!! Anyways, hello Dramagirl310. Thank you for reviewing, thanx a lot. You made me happy (kinda, I mean it woulda been sad if NO one reviewed) so thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. I'm now all warm inside (sounds corny). J J J TB¶:
Arnold's car parked in front of the airport, and he ran inside, so he wouldn't get soaked. A golden-haired woman stood near the phone, clad in a long tan trench coat and sandals.
"Um, miss," Arnold started. She shifted her feet a little, and shook her hair out of her face.
"Yes?" She turned her head up to meet his face, so much like another time . . . he was the same. Same blond springy hair, same blue eyes that made anyone melt under his gaze, same half-smile, only she was different. Her yellow hair was now gold and wavy, short, falling just past her shoulders. She ran her fingers through her hair, such similar actions . . .
"You called. This seems so odd." He chuckled. His deep voice sent shivers up her spine, so beautiful, yet not. How many times does this happen? And how does she know my number? She isn't one of my old girlfriends. Retraced? I might as well take her home anyway, she so gorgeous. "How do you know my number, and what is your name?" She stared wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights. She then picked at the gray airport cushion, diverting her gaze from his eyes.
"Hel-, Emily. Oh, your number is similar to my father's, my finger must have slipped, or not." Tears slipped silently down her cheeks. She clutched her little black purse closer to her gut. I hate to see her like that. I don't know anything about her. Was her name Emily? He picked up her suitcase, and waited for her to stand. She followed him to his red sports car. They drove the opposite direction of Emily's apartment. "What?"
"I don't know where you live, and it's easier to wait at the boarding house," he replied. She didn't blink at his mention of a boarding house. Very few boarding houses still existed still; the mention of one usually made his earlier girlfriends flutter their eyes. She nodded as if she understood. She's so cold, and wet, she could come to the boarding house to dry. I don't know how far away her house is. She could then dry off. Why did she ask for Bob? Is that her boyfriend? My thoughts keep wandering back to Helga's graduation; it was beautiful outside that day. Helga admitted that she used to love me, then ran. She was almost pretty then, she had two eyebrows, and she grew into her clothes. But she was still gangly. How did I respond? Something about me always liked her. How many people are named Helga? Are there other names that begin with Hel-? "Emily, would you like to come inside, I mean you look really cold. I can put your coat in the dryer for you, so when it dries you can go home. You can use my telephone," he offered.
"Th-th-thank you." They reached the boarding house. They walked up the steps. Oh, how the place had changed. New people, new furniture, it wasn't anything like the old boarding house.
"Come inside. Do you want any tea, perhaps?" Arnold led her inside the boarding house. She gave him her coat.
A small boy ran up to them and yelled, "Mommy, mommy! Some new person is here with Arnold!" Emily sighed, and rubbed her hand along the bottom of her shorn hair. "Mommy, some pretty woman came!" Emily rolled her head around trying to see the whole room. A wooden coat rack was next to the door, and an arch doorway led into a shared living room. Comfortable gray chairs and a couch circled a television. Everything was brighter; the walls were painted gold, red, sage green. A tired middle-aged woman traipsed after her young son. She raised her head, and gasped.
"Would you like some tea?" Arnold offered. She nodded, and followed Arnold into the kitchen. He told her sit at the counter. She obeyed his wishes, and was given a reindeer mug. She smiled at the out of season cup. It was April.
"Yeah, okay." She ran her hands along mug, feeling the slight raise of the picture, and the cold of the cup. Gerald has to meet her. Or Phoebe. Hey, Phoebe has a party tonight; I could take Emily there. Hot brown liquid was poured into the cup, and it created curls of translucent gray. Emily breathed in the tea steam, and put the cup to her lips, tasting the hot bitter flavor.
"What do you for a living?" Arnold asked.
She sighed, "I model. Amazing how such a gangly girl could now, at twenty-five, model. How life has its ironies. You?"
Arnold leaned on the counter; he looked so nonchalant. "Oh, I'm a family pediatrician. Well, I want to be one, I'm still in school." He sipped his tea, all so beautifully, all so gracefully. Emily stood up, and posed. She reminds me of Helga, she's so similar. A beautiful Helga, but then again, Helga might be beautiful, I haven't seen her in years.
"Yes, that sounds like you," she murmured. She gazed out of the kitchen window to see the rain stopping. "I guess I must be going. The rain has stopped." Arnold's blue eyes pleaded, then brightened. He dug around in his baggy black pants.
"Wait! Emily, wi-wi-will you go to the party with me? Phoebe is having a party, I would be pleased if you'd come." He grinned, and looked awkward suddenly. He regained his composure, and took another sip of his tea.
"Well, I wouldn't mind. Sure, I'll go with you." He brightened visibly, and busied himself about the stove in font of them.
"It's in two hours. I can pick you up . . . "
"At my apartment, on 24 State Street, apartment 167." She actually said "yes." I think I'm in bliss. It's not a date, but she doesn't even know me, and she said "yes." Yet, she seems too aware, to knowledgeable to not be familiar with my friends, this house, and me. She is too much like Helga. She probably is Helga, but why would she tell me her name is Emily?
Oh, yea. Like after the next chapter of so, uh, I'll stop uploading chapters so fast. It's jut that I already wrote these. So, don't get really mad at me, pleez. I'm sorry. L L
