The Phone Call- George Luz x OFC Imagine

July, 1946

Kate loved when it rained. She loved the smell that permeated from the earth; a scent that spoke of something almost primal and peaceful. She loved the way the skies darkened, cloaking her in a blanket of tranquility and contemplation. She loved the way it pitter pattered on the windows and the roof. She even loved the way it soaked her to the bone, cleansing her of every bad feeling she had lingering over her and making her feel like she was five again, sticking out her tongue to catch the raindrops, without a care to what passers by may think.

One thing Kate did not love about the rain was the fact that it cleared out the streets and stopped customers from coming into her quiet second hand book store.

Looking out of the window, her hands cradling a steaming hot cup of coffee with an indecent amount of sugar and enough creamer to add at least two pounds to her already rounded figure, Kate watched a little girl in yellow wellies splashing in puddles while her mother hurried to pull her away. She smiled at the innocence of it and blew on her coffee, taking a tentative sip just as the telephone rang.

"Hello, Second Chance Books, can I help you?" she croaked as the hot coffee scalded the back of her throat on its way down.

"Oh, did you say books?" a voice frowned. "Shit, I must have the wrong number."

"That's alright," Kate murmured. "Happens more often than you'd think. On the off chance, can I ask who you were looking for? In case they work here."

Kate only had one other employee; a sweet older lady named Caroline who opened up on Kate's only day off and did some general cleaning in the store once a week as well. She highly doubted someone would be calling here but stranger things had happened.

"I was looking for a friend of mine, name's Craig Appleworth. He needed me for some repair work at his house but I have a feeling I remembered his number wrong," the voice answered. "One of these days I've gotta get myself a notebook and actually write numbers down. Apparently my super memory isn't actually so super these days."

"Yeah that's probably a good idea," Kate agreed.

"Alright then, well sorry for disturbing you," the voice apologised.

"It's quite alright," Kate smiled even though the man on the end of the phone couldn't see her. "I've not had a single customer since this rain started and I was almost talking to the framed picture of my cat for company, so you've done me a small favour."

"Wow that's… pathetic," the man snorted. "Glad I saved you from doing that. I'm George, by the way. Nice to meet you, well, speak to you."

"I'm Kate. Nice to speak to you too."

"Well, I guess I should get going," George said. "Gotta help my mom with something and I'd better go and find this buddy of mine. Luckily I definitely know where he lives. Catch you later, Kate."

"Goodbye George."

Setting the phone back down on the receiver, Kate didn't know why she found her shoulders slumping in disappointment. Taking another sip of her colder coffee, the phone rang again almost instantly.

"Hello, Second Chance Books, can I help you?" Kate always answered with the same greeting.

"Kate?"

"George?"

"Don't worry, I didn't dial the wrong number again," he laughed and the sound made Kate's stomach flutter without warning. "This sounds absolutely crazy but I just… I don't even know why I'm calling you but it was this feeling that I had to call you back and... You know what, I'm gonna go, I'm an idiot and you-"

"I love blue Stilton," Kate blurted out, grimacing at herself and feeling thankful that she was alone in the shop. "Cheese… it's… I like cheese."

"Gouda is where it's at," George answered after a silence that seemed to drag on for too long. "But I'm more of a cake man than a cheese man if I'm being honest. No one can beat my mom's strawberry shortcake."

"Nah, if it's cake then it has to be chocolate," Kate grinned.

"I didn't peg you for a basic girl, Kate," George pretended to sound disappointed.

"You don't know me, how can you peg me as anything?" she laughed, realising that her stomach was still fluttering and the smile on her face was almost enough to split her face in two.

"Call it a gift," she could hear George smirk. "Based on your voice alone I'd say tall, blonde, blue eyes, athletic."

"You couldn't be any further from the truth," Kate snorted. "But let me try and see if I can guess anything about you. I'm gonna say tall, dark and handsome."

"Depends on your definition of tall but you got the rest right, doll," George replied in a tone that would have been arrogant coming from anyone else but from him it was just funny.

You don't even know the man, Kat.

"Well I'm five feet exactly so everyone's tall to me," she explained. "I have to use a ladder to reach things in my kitchen all the time. It's embarrassing actually."

"Aww that's cute," George teased, and Kat felt like she could see the goofy grin on his face. "I'm up and down ladders all the time too, but usually that's because I have to reach something that's actually high up; you know, like someone's roof."

"So you fix roofs for a living?" Kate asked. He already knew where she worked so it seemed only fair.

"I fix just about anything. I like being my own boss and I prefer to work on whatever schedule I want since the wa… since I came back home."

"My brother was in the war; 4th Infantry Division," she said without even realising it. "Got hit in France not long after D-Day and that was that."

"Jeez, I'm sorry, Kate," George sounded sincere.

"Me too," she sighed, realising she was close to tears.

Her brother was all she'd had. He'd looked after her while their mother had been off having one midlife crisis after the next; pouring all of her own insecurities and misery into her only daughter. He'd helped her to open the bookstore and he had helped her love herself for who she was. Now all that was left of him was photographs and memories. But poor George, a man who had been through himself, didn't need to listen to her sniveling so she forced herself to push down her pain.

"So you were in the war?" she sniffed. "Pacific? Europe? Both?"

"Oh, er Europe," George sounded uncomfortable, whether that was because of her almost crying down the phone or just because he didn't want to talk about the war, she wasn't sure. "101st Airborne."

"A paratrooper, wow," she was impressed. "Heard a lot about you boys on the radio."

"Well, it feels like a lifetime ago now," George lied, and Kate knew to change the subject.

"Can I ask you something, George?" she reached underneath the counter for a tin of cookies and took a bite out of one. "You're not one of those weirdos are you? You know, the kind who accost unsuspecting young women."

"Did nobody ever tell you it's rude to talk with your mouth full?"

"I was hungry, sue me. Besides, the tin of cookies was just looking at me and I couldn't help myself."

"What type?"

"Raisin oatmeal."

"Just when I think you couldn't disappoint me further," George tutted.

"What can I say? My mom always said I was a disappointment to her as well," Kate muttered, taking another bite and swiping the crumbs onto the floor.

"Way to kill the conversation. First date and we're already getting down to mommy issues."

"Good job this isn't a date then."

"That was harsh," George sniffed. "Really thought we had a connection, Kate. Guess I'd better go and try another random number and see if the next girl I talk to is nicer than you."

"Hey George," Kate smiled again. "You never answered my question."

"Question?"

"About whether or not you're a weirdo."

… … …

Kate's conversation with George ended not long after he explained that he was definitely not a weirdo.

"I'm just not one and that's that."

"But that's what a weirdo would say."

"Then what else am I meant to say? In fact, how do I know you're not the weirdo?"

"You called me, George… twice."

"Well excuse me for trying to be nice."

Kate had been disappointed when the bell above the door jingled and in walked one of her usual customers. George had said something about calling back later but she knew he was just being polite. After all, what possible reason would a complete stranger have to call and talk to her again. The first time he had clearly done it out of some kind of sympathy for the fact that she had said she was bored. To do it a second time would have been ludicrous.

That didn't mean that she wasn't strangely hurt when the rest of the afternoon passed without hearing from him.

He was a stranger. A total stranger yet she felt like they had a… connection. It was like something from one of her stupid romance novels, and there was no way something like that could ever happen to someone like her. After all, there was a reason she had made it to twenty five without ever having had a serious boyfriend. She just wasn't made for love and trusting someone and all of that jazz. She couldn't let herself open up to anyone else; at least not with any of the dates she had ever been on anyway, and then the war started and took away most eligible men her age. Now that they were back, they were all after a bit of fun and a chance to sew some more wild oats. They weren't interested in doing that with a woman like her.

But it had felt different with George somehow. Or at least to her it had.

"You're being ridiculous," she muttered to herself as she locked the front door at the end of the day, wiggling the key when it got stuck just like every night. Pulling down the shutter, she shook her head. "Upset over a man you don't know anything about. You're stupid, Kate. So stupid and-"

"And you had the indignance to call me a weirdo."

Spinning around, the shutter dropped and Kat's eyes almost bugged out of her head when she saw him standing there.

At around five feet six or seven, floppy brown hair and big brown eyes, George was pretty much everything Kate had imagined on the phone. But one thing that she hadn't gotten right was just how impish his smile was. It made her stomach do somersaults and she couldn't help but smile back, even through her obvious shock.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Well, I know I was gonna call but I went shopping instead," he held out a small basket for her to take. "Blue Stilton and chocolate fudge cake. And I know as first dates went ours wasn't very conventional but how about we make the second one a bit more so? There's a restaurant right around the corner which makes the best lasagna in the world."

"Fratelli's?" she smirked. "And let's not forget their garlic bread sticks. Absolutely worth the bad breath and bloated stomach."

"You know what, Kate? Appalling taste in cookies aside, I think this could be love," George grinned, holding out his arm.

"You know what George?" Kate linked her arm through his with a smile. "You really are one of those weirdos, aren't you?"

… … …

Two Years Later

"I ain't never heard of anyone having a wedding cake made outta cheese."

George grinned at Bill, who was helping himself to some nonetheless. Kate was in the middle of the dancefloor with Buck, laughing when he trod on her long train while spinning her around like the Hollywood hunk he was.

"Kate's cheese addiction has gotten even worse since she got pregnant," George shrugged. "She wanted a wedding cake made of cheese so she got one."

"And you got a can of beans thrown at your head when you tried to say no," Guarnere laughed.

"Kate told you that story, huh?"

"She called Frannie to ask if pregnant women could eat cheese and then cried because she had almost wounded you," Bill explained. "Ever since you brought Kate to that reunion last year, she and Frannie have been thick as thieves. Always on the phone and mailing each other magazine articles."

"Well, seeing as you and the missus have popped out three kids since you got back from the war, I'm glad Kate has someone to go to for advice," George took one long drag on his cigarette, before extinguishing it in the ashtray on the table to the left of them. "My mom tries to be there for her but I think it's difficult for Kate to know what it's like to have a mother who actually gives a shit."

"Yeah, Frannie told me about that too," Bill shook his head. "Imagine not even accepting an invite to your own daughter's wedding."

"Well, it's her loss," George muttered.

There was plenty more he wanted to say on the matter but their happy day wasn't the time nor place for it.

"And our gain," Bill winked. "We're her family now, all of us."

"Appreciate that, Bill," George patted him gently on the shoulder. "And now if it's alright with you, I need to save my wife from Babe. Hey, Heffron, you are not throwing my pregnant wife around like that!"

"It's just dancing!" Babe exclaimed, setting Kate down nonetheless before they could properly start their jitterbug.

"It's dangerous!" George argued, wrapping an arm around Kate's waist. "Sweetheart, you've gotta take it easy."

"George, I've got five months to go," Kate rolled her eyes. "I'll catch you later for that dance, Babe."

"Sure Kate," Babe didn't look convinced and had already pulled Bill's wife in to take over Kate's place.

"You're a pest, Mr Luz," Kate narrowed her eyes at George and wrapped her arms around his neck, the two of them swaying at the edge of the dancefloor to a slow tune of their own.

"But I'm your pest, Mrs Luz," he grinned, placing a hand on her barely showing stomach, while the other held her waist gently. "Wanna get out of here and make this marriage official?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

The End.