Lady in Blue

I walked to the subway, making sure to not spill my coffee. I barely made it on, and I caught my breath, finally sitting down for the first time all morning. There was a lady in a beautiful blue dress sitting across from me. I smiled her way, because the only way you can make something feel a little bit more comfortable in a public form of transportation is to smile. She smiled weakly back, a look of tiredness in hey eyes.

It was odd to see someone in such lovely attire riding the 11 pm subway to the neighborhood closest to Memorial Hospital, where I was headed to start my night shift as a nurse. I was still saving up to buy a car, and I still needed some work experience to get a raise and a discount on health insurance, if I can even get that anymore. It was a late Saturday night, too, which made it even more odd. But you don't question who's on the subway at this time of day.

She kept on opening a notebook with a leather cover. She would put it to her chest, as if she was hugging it. I could see that it had three initials carved on it. L. R. S. I looked at her again, but pretending to study my hospital badge. The blue dress had a satin bow in the back, which I saw when she briefly got up to stretch. It looked expensive, like a Sunday best dress. Not something you would wear on a subway.

Eventually, after the monotonous banging of when the doors opened, the twenty minutes I had spent sitting were over. I got off, but the lady in blue didn't. Maybe she was an angel. You know, they always associate Mary with the color blue. And there was a Spanish nun who wore a sky blue chiffon covering. But this dress was dark blue, almost navy-colored in the dark of the night subway. When the overhead lights went on, it became more colorful, revealing some different kinds of fabric along the waistline. The way it was designed fascinated me. And, oh, the woman's hair. It was curled, and it had honey highlights that seemed so natural. She had a crown into a bun, and her chestnut hair glowed effortlessly. It was gorgeous without even trying.

I walked the short distance from the subway station to Memorial, and thought about the lady all the way there. She was beautiful. Almost too beautiful, but her expressions masked whatever beauty was lying on her face. She seemed like she was in pain. I could tell from experience, but also by the way she would bite her lip, and her eyes would crinkle up. She took deep, hitched breaths, and studied the notebook with a focus that was unnerving. By the way I can recall these details, you'd think I'd been stalking her. But no. It was just one subway ride, and I'll probably never see her again.

I got into the hospital and took a deep breath.

I knocked on the door of one of my patients, Miller Ross.

"Hey, bud," I said to the old man.

"Hi, Rosie," He said in his raspy voice. It sounded better than it had been.

"Are you feeling good today, Miller?" I asked him, sitting in the chair across from his bed that smelled like his wife. His wife was there so often all of the nurses in the ICU knew what she smelled like.

"Yes, I'm doing okay," He replied. I smiled and continued to do my job.

I caught the 6 am subway back, and the lady was still there, looking like she was a porcelain doll. Her hair hadn't been changed, or gotten out of its perfect style, and her blue dress didn't have a single wrinkle in it. She really could have passed for a porcelain doll. All the color was drained out of her face, leaving just a pale white. There was a little bit of pink tint where she had applied blush, but her face was otherwise white as snow.

I fixed my own hair, which had fallen out a little bit. I looked at the woman again, putting my hands in my face. I was tired, and I was looking forward to sleep. The woman lifted her pale, bony hands and held her notebook up, examining a page. Then, she put the notebook down and smoothed down her dress. Her eyes had glassed over after reading the notebook page, and she used a finger to dab under her eyes, preventing a tear from escaping. Even crying looked majestic when the lady in the blue dress did it. Her lips had red lipstick on, and she licked them slightly. She was so beautiful.

I looked at her again one last time before I got off the subway, and thought about her the whole way home.

When I got home, I messaged my other coworkers who took the subway, but none of them had seen the lady in blue before. I mean, I hadn't seen her until today. Well, yesterday.

I sat on my couch in my pajamas, having just taken a shower. I checked some of my notifications and sighed.

New York Times- Hurricane Josephine Rips Through North and South Carolina

Spotify- An artist you follow is coming in concert near you soon!

Kindle Unlimited- Thank you for paying your monthly subscription. Read on!

It's a little sad when a lot of the notifications you get are from news or music apps or Kindle Unlimited, for heaven's sake.

I turned on the TV. I stared at the home screen for a while. I wasn't sad, but a tear fell down my cheek. At least I don't think I was sad.

I sighed and decided that I was just tired and that I should go to bed. I turned on instrumental songs and white noise, because I can't fall asleep to anything else, and then I finally fell asleep.

When I woke up about four hours later, I was hungry and decided that it was time for an early lunch. After I ate a PB & J sandwich, I got ready for the day and took a walk around the park that's about a mile from my house. I jogged a little and thought about Miller, then about the lady in blue. She was clogging up all my thoughts, a song playing in my earbuds. I really liked the melody of the song, and the lyrics sounded familiar. I reached for my phone to see what was playing. Lizzy McAlpine- "Lady in Blue".

I stopped in my tracks.

It had to be a coincidence, surely.

I laughed a little, continuing my midday walk.

The song kept playing, and I saw all the other people walking out. I made up stories for them like a little kid. Except they were twisted, because I'm an ICU nurse. My mind gets a little twisted.

For example, a lady in a pink sports bra and black shorts walking her dog was named Linda. She was getting a divorce, and she felt like the only thing who could keep her grounded was her dog, Waffles. But next year, after a long-fought divorce, Waffles will pass by falling into the ocean, and she will suffer immensely.

I grimaced at my thoughts and kept walking, trying to think about what I wanted for dinner.

I was thinking meatballs with a side of too much information.

On a serious note, I wanted spaghetti.

I finished my walk and then took a really quick shower to clean myself, because I am prone to sweat and on a hot day in California, I'm drenched even after just fifteen minutes.

After my quick shower, I propped myself up on my couch and watched a movie. I wrote a little while I was watching that movie. I looked for a part-time job to have during the day to help pay those student loans and be able to live comfortably. A job that wouldn't require 9 to 5 hours, though. Then I would just be a mess.

For the next three weeks, I had a new constant in my life. The lady in blue. She was always in the same blue dress, always holding the same blue notebook, and always on my subway at exactly the times I showed up. Once, I went there a little earlier, and she wasn't there. I got over the fact that I might have been going bananas.

Then, one day, she wasn't there.

It was a Tuesday.

Now I hate Tuesdays.

I thought about the song.

Maybe she's gone until dinnertime/

Maybe she's gone for good/

Maybe she won't come back until next year/

But I got really upset when she wasn't there.

And then I disappeared.

And I saw the lady in blue.