Do You Mind if I Sit Here?

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Alex asked.

“It’s a free country,” the woman replied, not exactly with an attitude, just matter-of-factly.

For a moment, Alex hesitated, and then thought to himself, it is a free country. And given that, he could easily have chosen another bench. He had selected this one because of its proximity to the river and the way the sun was glinting off of it. But, truthfully, there were other options. There was one bench with no occupants, but it was in direct sunlight, which would make reading his book difficult. There was another bench occupied by an elderly gentleman, but that one was angled in such a way as to make the riverview less optimal. Weighing these, he decided to sit, not wanting this rather cantankerous woman to think she had scared him off.

Then, just to be cheeky, Alex decided to push his presence. “So, what brings you to the Saugatuck River today?”

“Excuse me?” the woman replied, this time clearly with an attitude.

“Beautiful day, just wondering what brought you here today?”

“Well, I think you just answered your own question.”

“Too true,” Alex responded. In his mind he wanted to give her a name. Karen came to mind. But, it wasn’t really a sense of entitlement that emanated from her body language and tone; it was more a pervasive sense of sadness. So Alex landed on the name Dolores, translated from Spanish as sorrows.

Resigned not to attempt further conversation, Alex opened Carl Hiaasen's newest title, Fever Beach. Letting out a laugh at an especially outrageous scene in an already outlandish novel, Dolores commented, “I see your literary taste is as sophisticated as your conversational skills.”

“Well, well, look who has something to say. I’m Alex by the way,” he commented, now pondering the name Ice Queen, not only for her coldness in demeanor but also for her Arctic blonde hair and icy blue eyes.

“Oh, I have plenty to say, I’m just choosing not to converse.” Dolores, aka The Ice Queen, really did not want to talk. But she was also aware that she was being rude. She wasn’t sure why she cared, but she did. Was it that she did not want to come off in such an unpleasant way, or was there something about this stranger? Afterall, he was handsome, maybe forty-something like her, and had chosen to sit by a river reading, not something her husband would have done.

“Well, then, perhaps you should choose to say something kind, rather than something so judgmental. I rather love Hiaasen's use of language, the way his characters pop off the page, and his settings are quite palpable."

Enough time went by to indicate that there would be no response, so Alex returned to page 183, where he had left off. Before getting to page 184, Dolores/The Ice Queen spoke. “Perhaps I have misjudged you. But, I really came here to get away from people.”

Alex closed his book, turned toward her and said, “Apologies. I was carried away with my good mood and never considered yours. Believe me when I tell you that I know how it feels to just want to be lost in your own thoughts.”

“Amazing how two people can be drawn to the same spot for entirely different reasons. Well, not entirely. We can agree that we both wanted the beauty and serenity of sitting by a river. But for me it was to be, like you said, alone to wallow in my head. I’m sorry for being so abrasive.”

“And for me it was to enjoy some relaxation. Open to conversation or not."

“I’m Grace, by the way.”

Grace, Alex considered. How very different from the names he had imagined.

Grace continued, “I work right here at the library. I’ve been a librarian for a long time, but I only started to take my breaks here fairly recently. And, I’ll admit, I do enjoy Hiaasen myself. Though I do prefer literary fiction. It’s more so that he is my ex-husband’s favorite author.”

“I can see how my book choice might have triggered you. My ex-wife’s favorite author is Ann Patchett. I’ve tried her books, but they’re more about writing than plot, I find, and I prefer more entertaining novels. And it appeared she preferred more entertaining husbands."

“Well, this is crazy. Patchett is one of my favorite authors, though I do know what you mean. Slice of life stories can be less obviously exciting. And it appeared my husband also preferred someone more entertaining. Left me for my best friend’s husband. I call them the Prick and the Betrayer. Guess I could write a story about that–part slice of life, part salacious romance."

Alex laughed to himself, seeing that he was not the only one to assign descriptive names. “My wife left me for her personal trainer. I do have a few choice names for them, but I think I’ll keep them to myself, but the genre would most definitely be the same as your story."

“Seems we have some things in common. I just can’t imagine ever being in a good mood again and you seem pretty cheery. How do you manage that?”

“I think your wound must be fresher than mine. It’s approaching the two-year mark since I found them together in my very own bed and more than six months since the divorce was finalized. And now that I’ve told you some details, I will tell you that the name of my story would be: “The All-Too Personal Trainer and the Over-Eager Client.”

“I like where you’re going with that, but you might not want to give away too much in the title. Well, I need to get back inside, but thank you. Our little chat has definitely made me feel a little less alone and sad.” With that, Grace stood up to leave.

“Would it be okay if I met you here tomorrow at the same time?”

“It’s a free country,” Grace responded, this time with a smile.