Stories

She opened the book (prompt) by JoAnn Irrgang

She opened the book on the top of her stack and ran her finger down the table of contents. She was looking for a specific quilt pattern and didn’t want to get bogged down dreaming about designs she would never make. She had scraps of fabric and a bolt of batting decorating her sewing room since June. She gave ne meaning to the word, procrastination. She looked up and saw a twenty-something girl, carrying a stack of books of her own and a small coffee. She accidentally stubbed her toe on the leg of a customer’s chair that was sticking a little too far into the aisle for Sylvia’s taste.

“Watch where you’re going,” the man grumbled, not even looking at the poor girl, who winced with embarrassment.

He looked to be in his forties and seemed too young to be such a curmudgeon. Sylvia looked at him more closely. He was dressed in a dark green cardigan with a plaid shirt and tortoise shell glasses. He still lived with his mother and came to the combination book store and coffee shop, to display his superior intellect and get out of running errands for Mama, she decided. She disliked him almost immediately.

“Come sit here,” Sylvia said to the girl, who was craning her neck in all directions, looking for an empty seat. Sylvia gestured to a chair opposite her and the girl sank into it gratefully, depositing her books and coffee on the small table with a thud.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “I thought I might have to sit outside there for a minute.”

“It’s December dear,” Sylvia said.

“Oh, yes, I know. I could have looked for a seat in other parts of the store I guess.”

“You are certainly welcome to share my table, young lady,” Sylvia said, smiling.

She prided herself on being able to converse with almost anyone she met. She would have declined any conversation with the man in the cardigan however, had he offered.

“My name is Sylvia, dear, and who are you?”

“My name is Madison, Madison McPherson,” she said nervously. “I guess you didn’t need all that information, did you?”

“You’re fine,” Sylvia said. going back to her quilting book.

Madison took a sip of her coffee and pulled a book from the middle of her stack.

“I’m looking for something good to take on the bus when I go back home,” she said, flipping pages nervously. “I came here to surprise my boyfriend for Christmas, but apparently his fiancé didn’t think that was such a good idea.”

“It was then, that Sylvia noticed the girl’s sagging shoulders and red-rimmed eyes.

“Oh my, I see,” she said quietly. “You must be heartbroken then.”

The girl shrugged and tried for a smile.

“I should have realized something wasn’t adding up,” she said. “He always came to visit me...and never asked me to visit him. I just thought maybe he still lived with his mother or something.”

Sylvia looked over at Mr. green cardigan with disdain.

“What is it they say dear? Men are like buses; there will be another one along in no time!”

Madison had to cover her mouth to keep from spraying coffee across the table.

“You did not just say that!” she said, giggling like a fifth grader.

“I don’t remember if it’s buses or taxi cabs...but the point is the same,” Sylvia said, “It’s vital to find the right man if you want it to last.”

Sylvia was hoping she wasn’t sounding like a two for a dollar greeting card.

“Are you married?” Madison asked.

“Oh yes, to a wonderful man named William. We’ve been married almost...forty-five years,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

“That doesn’t seem possible,” Madison said, looking at Sylvia suspiciously. “You must have gotten married when you were a teenager!”

Sylvia wore her shining silver hair in a blunt-cut bob and tried half-heartedly to keep her wardrobe current.

“Not quite!” Sylvia said, dismissing her flattery with a wave.

“So what are you reading?” Madison asked.

“Oh nothing in particular. I just wanted to get out of the house and go somewhere...quiet.”

“It’s noisy at your house?”

“You know how the holidays are. I have family here and the kids are either fighting over a video game or arguing about who gets to hold the remote.”

“Your husband is...still living?” Madison asked awkwardly.

“Well... he was when I left the house,” Sylvia said, laughing. “But who knows with all those kids!”

This made Madison smile and Sylvia went on to tell her about William’s penchant for taking on home repair projects he didn’t quite know how to finish, and his love for taking their three boys camping when they were children. The girl’s spirits seemed to brighten considerably and after almost an hour, Sylvia looked at her watch.

Oh dear, Madison, I have to be going,” she said, gathering up her stack of books and her long empty coffee cup.

“Oh well, I guess you do, with a house full of people at home,” Madison said, a little flustered. “I didn’t mean to keep you from your family.”

“Oh no, it’s alright dear,” Sylvia said, “Now you pick a good book for your trip back home and don’t you shed one more tear over that unworthy man!”

“I won’t!” Madison said, with determination.

Sylvia walked home in the cold, December wind, pulling her coat tighter around herself. When she arrived at her door, she took off her glove to put her key in the lock. A blanket of warm air enveloped her as she stepped inside her apartment. She hung up her coat and kicked off her shoes. She passed by the framed photo of she and William, as she laid her keys on the hall table. Had it really been twenty years. She touched the lid of his urn beside the photo, as she turned to go into the kitchen. She decided on cereal for dinner. She hated cooking for just one.