Flipping...(posted to Callahan's)
Belle wanders in, wrapped in her soft African mohair shawl, looking a little
dazed. Mike looks up from the coffee machine, where he has been making ready
for the morning traffic. He regards her bleary-eyed entrance with concern.
"Wow, " he says, "you're up a little early, aren't you?"
Belle slides up onto her favorite stool, puts her chin in her hands and
yawns. "I've been up since about quarter to three...Is that coffee brewing
yet?"
Mike grins. "Should be done in just a minute.." he says in a blessedly
reassuring voice. "Why the insomnia?"
Belle sighs. "Scribe left California last night. I talked to him just before
he disconnected the phone and walked out the door. I'm just a little
freaked."
Mike nods. "Second thoughts?" he asks quietly.
Belle sits suddenly upright. "No WAY, Mike! Uh uh, not at all. I know that
this is the best thing that could ever happen. In fact, there is no way this
could NOT happen. But what we're talking about is at least 3,000 miles in a
truck loaded with varied stuff and three cats, driven by a man who is hoping
against reason to be here by Saturday." Her chin returns to her hand, and
she runs the other hand through her hair. "You see, my birthday is Saturday,
and he wanted to be here for that...but there is no way he can do that
safely. So I told him that I would not allow it to be my birthday until he
got here." She grins. "And that is not an impossible task, because, to be
honest, it won't BE my birthday until he's here..." Her sleepy eyes get a
faraway look. "In a lot of ways, it is the beginning of my life altogether."
Mike pours a huge mug of coffee and puts it down in front of her, slipping a
warm croissant and a little dish of strawberry jam beside it. She regards
the little breakfast, and smiles at Mike gratefully. She loads the strongly
fragrant and steaming mug with cream, then begins to pull the croissant
apart with her fingers...
"I have the feeling that we are going to be seeing a lot of each other in
the next couple of days, Mike." she says. "I am going to need some company
for the 'where is he and is he safe?' periods." She sighs. "I just heard
that it is snowing in some parts of the west, and hurricane Lili is headed
for this coast..."
Mike smiles. "He'll be fine."
Belle smiles back. "I know. He promised he'd be careful. But still..." She
sighs. "I'm just Irish enough to believe that we could get seriously
punished for being so happy, and for allowing a bit of optimism to overtake
our reason."
She giggles and shakes her head. "Sometimes love is a pain in the ass...If I
didn't love him, I would get a whole lot more sleep."
Mike grins at her and then turns back to the coffee maker, pouring himself a
cup, looking out into the lightening eastern sky. "Sun's coming up..." he
muses. "One day closer to home."
She watches the pinkening sky through the window and realizes that this
feels vaguely familiar--that she has kept watch before for the homecoming of
wandering men. It is not the sea she watches this time, though, but the vast
ocean of land that stretches from the Pacific to the Atlantic. Mountains and
plains and highways stretching endlessly westward as the man cruises
eastward across them. She fingers the silver chain around her neck, feeling
the five pointed star softly resting against her heart.
"Please..." she whispers, finding herself void of all but that one word.
dazed. Mike looks up from the coffee machine, where he has been making ready
for the morning traffic. He regards her bleary-eyed entrance with concern.
"Wow, " he says, "you're up a little early, aren't you?"
Belle slides up onto her favorite stool, puts her chin in her hands and
yawns. "I've been up since about quarter to three...Is that coffee brewing
yet?"
Mike grins. "Should be done in just a minute.." he says in a blessedly
reassuring voice. "Why the insomnia?"
Belle sighs. "Scribe left California last night. I talked to him just before
he disconnected the phone and walked out the door. I'm just a little
freaked."
Mike nods. "Second thoughts?" he asks quietly.
Belle sits suddenly upright. "No WAY, Mike! Uh uh, not at all. I know that
this is the best thing that could ever happen. In fact, there is no way this
could NOT happen. But what we're talking about is at least 3,000 miles in a
truck loaded with varied stuff and three cats, driven by a man who is hoping
against reason to be here by Saturday." Her chin returns to her hand, and
she runs the other hand through her hair. "You see, my birthday is Saturday,
and he wanted to be here for that...but there is no way he can do that
safely. So I told him that I would not allow it to be my birthday until he
got here." She grins. "And that is not an impossible task, because, to be
honest, it won't BE my birthday until he's here..." Her sleepy eyes get a
faraway look. "In a lot of ways, it is the beginning of my life altogether."
Mike pours a huge mug of coffee and puts it down in front of her, slipping a
warm croissant and a little dish of strawberry jam beside it. She regards
the little breakfast, and smiles at Mike gratefully. She loads the strongly
fragrant and steaming mug with cream, then begins to pull the croissant
apart with her fingers...
"I have the feeling that we are going to be seeing a lot of each other in
the next couple of days, Mike." she says. "I am going to need some company
for the 'where is he and is he safe?' periods." She sighs. "I just heard
that it is snowing in some parts of the west, and hurricane Lili is headed
for this coast..."
Mike smiles. "He'll be fine."
Belle smiles back. "I know. He promised he'd be careful. But still..." She
sighs. "I'm just Irish enough to believe that we could get seriously
punished for being so happy, and for allowing a bit of optimism to overtake
our reason."
She giggles and shakes her head. "Sometimes love is a pain in the ass...If I
didn't love him, I would get a whole lot more sleep."
Mike grins at her and then turns back to the coffee maker, pouring himself a
cup, looking out into the lightening eastern sky. "Sun's coming up..." he
muses. "One day closer to home."
She watches the pinkening sky through the window and realizes that this
feels vaguely familiar--that she has kept watch before for the homecoming of
wandering men. It is not the sea she watches this time, though, but the vast
ocean of land that stretches from the Pacific to the Atlantic. Mountains and
plains and highways stretching endlessly westward as the man cruises
eastward across them. She fingers the silver chain around her neck, feeling
the five pointed star softly resting against her heart.
"Please..." she whispers, finding herself void of all but that one word.