Useless Desires
Title: Useless Desires
Author: hot_4_hahn
Rating: PG
Summary: Erica's made her way to a new city. And is ready to put those useless desires far behind her. [This was my attempt at a one-shot, but it failed. What can I say? I'm a serial gal, I guess]
Disclaimer: See sidebar
A/N: I can’t believe this comm is up and running. julie_378 and krizzzie I can’t thank you enough for making this happen. You ladies are ~amazing~.
Useless Desires
“Okay…yeah, just fax everything once it’s ready.” Erica turned to gently push the front door closed with her foot, carefully balancing the phone that was wedged between her ear and left shoulder. “Okay…thanks Gloria, I’ll talk with you later.” She dropped her purse onto the table in the entryway and sighed as she reached up to grab the phone with her now free right hand.
The last tie was about to be cut. Even in a down market, Erica had assumed there wouldn’t be too much trouble selling her old house, back in Seattle. When the market was booming she’d snatched it up, as soon as it became available, and at the time had thought she was perhaps overpaying. But, the realtor had found an anxious buyer and the house, that everyone said was ‘so Erica’, would soon belong to someone else.
She dropped her leather satchel and the stack of folders on the kitchen bar before turning back towards the living room and picking up the remote from the coffee table. Music flooded through the downstairs and Erica smiled to herself as the melodic, bell shaped voice washed over her. The song that had previously brought a heaviness to her heart, a sadness to her senses, suddenly took on new meaning…a chance to leave the sadness behind. "Say goodbye to the old street, That never cared much for you anyway, The different-colored doorways, You thought would let you in one day"
Erica strode into the kitchen and opened the electronic wine cellar. She surveyed the contents before selecting a special Bordeaux she’d bought herself; at the time she’d envisioned saving it for just the right occasion. Some special occasion worthy of celebration and congratulations. Her smile broadened as she pulled open the cork and heard the satisfying pop. "Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye old friend, I can't make you stay, I can't spend another ten years, Wishing you would anyway"
She poured the jewel-colored liquid and slowly swirled the glass on the granite countertop. The wine hugged the sides of the glass opened its aromas to her. Erica took a shallow, slow sip and closed her eyes in enjoyment. She allowed the stress of the last six months to just float away. "I walk down to the railroad track and ride a rusty train, With a million other faces I shoot through the city veins, Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye old friend, You wanted to be free, Somewhere beyond the bitter end is where I want to be"
The ‘bitter end’, Erica inhaled slowly…the bitter end was finally over. A new city, a new job, a new house…a new life. She thought to herself, maybe it was true that the ‘old friend’ wanted to be free…but, maybe she had wanted that also. She couldn’t help smirk to herself, because for the first time in a long time, this…this felt good. She was finally free. "Waiting on a train track, and the train never comes back, And even I'm getting tired of useless desires"
Saturday morning Erica stepped from her car and reveled at the warm winter sun that hit her face. In the few weeks that she’d been in the city, she now understood what drew so many people to the south. She hadn’t understood before, there were the stereotypes and the brutal summers, but now she got it. The weather was actually amazing, the pace of things was deliberate, the people were friendly (sometimes a little too friendly for her taste, but still). She hurried to cross the street, before the light changed, and thought to herself, ‘I’m definitely getting a convertible’.
Erica took her time shopping, perusing the displays of the small uptown market. She’d been so glad when one of her new colleagues recommended the place. After she moved in, she’d resigned herself to the idea that she was going to have to give up most of the fresh meats and produce, and the small market gourmet brands, she’d gotten spoiled on from Pike’s. But, low and behold, the southern city, she’d doubted, had risen to the challenge.
She glanced down at the list in her hand and reached for the fresh feta, thinking she’d forgotten to include spinach. Her fingers brushed another warm hand before she was able to grasp the cheese. Erica quickly looked up, “Sorry.” Twinkling green eyes met her own; she and the brunette had thwarted each other’s attempt to reach for the last package of the briny goat cheese. They both paused, eyeing one another, then turned their attention back to the dairy case.
The brunette’s eyes smiled and her mouth tightened into a smirk. Erica looked back down at the package wondering, ‘do I just take it?...I mean I was here first…what’s the protocol here?...do I have to say something, or just take it?’
The other woman didn’t fail to notice the narrowing of Erica’s eyes and her glances between herself and the case. “Go ahead,” she smiled warmly and held her hand up in front her, the palm facing Erica. She jokingly relinquished any claim to the cheese. Erica eyed the woman slightly suspiciously and tugged at the right corner of her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Please, I have a feeling if you don’t get that feta, one of us isn’t walking out of here. And most likely that person is gonna be me.” The woman chuckled lightly and folded her hand over the handles of her basket that was hanging from her left arm. “Please, it’s all yours.”
Erica exhaled and laughed, “Thanks.”
The brunette winked at her and brushed past to continue on shopping. Erica dropped the cheese into her basket and turned slightly, to her left, to grab a block of French butter. The woman reached out at the same time, but stopped before their hands could collide again.
The other woman shook her head. “Okay, now I think you’re doing it on purpose.”
They both laughed and Erica drew her hand back this time. “I’m sorry. Please go ahead.”
The woman grabbed the butter and tossed into the basket, “Sure, now that there’s more than one, I can go first.” She extended her hand to Erica, “I’m Mary Jo, but the way.”
Erica reached and shook her hand, “Erica.” They both turned and walked down the aisle, side-by-side. Erica wrinkled her brow, “I’m sorry…”
Mary Jo interrupted her, “I was just giving you a hard time, pssf…don’t worry about it. I’ll survive.”
“Yeah, but I’ve probably messed up your dinner plans now. And you’re going to have to completely rework the entire meal for your boyfriend or husband, right?”
Erica caught a sidelong glance for her last remark. “No…you just messed up plans for me, alone… my girlfriend left town a couple months ago.”
Erica cleared her throat quietly, “Oh…I’m sorry.”
The woman waved her hand, “Don’t be. I’m not.” She paused in the aisle to select a box of pasta from the shelf. Erica stopped as well and turned to face her. “It was for the best. Sometimes you just gotta cut your losses. Somebody has to have the guts to walk away.”
Erica shifted the basket to her left arm, “Yeah, I guess that’s me.”
Mary Jo looked at her curiously.
“No, I just mean…” Erica shook her head and glanced down at the floor. “I had the guts a couple months ago.” She looked back up to meet Mary Jo’s eyes, smiled lightly and shrugged her shoulders, “So here I am.”
Mary Jo indicated further down the aisle with her finger, and they continued walking. “Ah, a heartbreaker?”
Erica swallowed slowly; this was the first time since leaving Seattle that she’d discussed anything about what happened, with anyone. Granted she hadn’t really told much to this woman that she’d just met, but it was the most she’d ever said out loud. “No, quite the other way, I’m afraid.”
The other woman nodded slightly, “So…sounds like we’re both damaged goods.”
Erica turned her head and flashed a genuine smile, “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
Mary Jo chuckled and they made their way to the check-out stand.
After Erica had paid for her items, and just as she was turning, with her bags, towards the door, Mary Jo fell in step beside her. They exited the market and the brunette turned to Erica, she extended her a folded slip of paper, “Seeing as how you’re new in town, give me a call if you ever want to do anything or whatever.”
Erica leaned back slightly, balancing the paper bags against her chest, she extended the fingers of her right hand that was supporting a bag and reached for the slip of paper. Their fingertips brushed slightly, and Mary Jo gave a warm smile before releasing the paper. “See you around, Erica.”
Several days later, Erica left the hospital early. It had been a gloriously slow day and she had been able to sneak out in the late afternoon. She clicked on the stereo and moved into the kitchen, her hand rested on the refrigerator handle as her eyes landed on the scrap of paper she’d tacked up with a magnet. She chewed the inside of her lip, reading over Mary Jo’s name. "I'm not looking for the rest of your life, I just want another chance to live"
The lyrics resonated in her head and she dropped her hand from the door handle. Erica walked to the entryway and fished her phone out of her purse. She went back to the kitchen and dialed the number from the paper on her fridge. As the phone rang, she opened the wine cellar, between her cabinets, and ran her eyes over the contents.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mary Jo?...This is, um Erica.” She straightened up and closed the glass cellar door. “From the market?”
Erica could hear the smile in the other woman’s voice. “I remember. How are you?”
She swallowed and turned around to lean her lower back against the countertop, “Good, how have you been?”
“Great…listen, I’m glad you called. What are you doing this evening?”
Erica rubbed her left hand around the back of her neck, “Uh, this evening? Nothing.”
“Good, do you want to come over for dinner? I know its last minute, but turns out I unexpectedly have a free night. What do you say?”
Erica blinked her eyes slowly and pushed off the counter. “Um, sure. Yeah..that sounds nice.”
“Fantastic…Say, like seven?” Mary Jo didn’t wait for response. “Where do you live? I can give you directions. “
Erica glanced around the kitchen, as if looking for something that would give her a clue as to where she lived. This conversation had moved a lot faster than she had expected, and it had thrown her off a bit to actually be making plans that very evening. “Well um,…it’s called Dilworth, I think.”
“What street?”
Erica gave her the street name and house number.
“Okay, so are you ready? I’m going to give you really complicated directions.”
Erica grabbed a pad out of a kitchen drawer and tossed it on the countertop. “I’m ready.”
“So…when you leave the house, cross the street, turn left, walk down five houses. And, ta-da…you’re there.”
Erica dropped the pen she was holding, onto the pad, and laughed aloud. “I think I can find it.”
Erica could hear that smile in Mary Jo’s voice again. “Well…just call me if you get lost.”
Author: hot_4_hahn
Rating: PG
Summary: Erica's made her way to a new city. And is ready to put those useless desires far behind her. [This was my attempt at a one-shot, but it failed. What can I say? I'm a serial gal, I guess]
Disclaimer: See sidebar
A/N: I can’t believe this comm is up and running. julie_378 and krizzzie I can’t thank you enough for making this happen. You ladies are ~amazing~.
Useless Desires
“Okay…yeah, just fax everything once it’s ready.” Erica turned to gently push the front door closed with her foot, carefully balancing the phone that was wedged between her ear and left shoulder. “Okay…thanks Gloria, I’ll talk with you later.” She dropped her purse onto the table in the entryway and sighed as she reached up to grab the phone with her now free right hand.
The last tie was about to be cut. Even in a down market, Erica had assumed there wouldn’t be too much trouble selling her old house, back in Seattle. When the market was booming she’d snatched it up, as soon as it became available, and at the time had thought she was perhaps overpaying. But, the realtor had found an anxious buyer and the house, that everyone said was ‘so Erica’, would soon belong to someone else.
She dropped her leather satchel and the stack of folders on the kitchen bar before turning back towards the living room and picking up the remote from the coffee table. Music flooded through the downstairs and Erica smiled to herself as the melodic, bell shaped voice washed over her. The song that had previously brought a heaviness to her heart, a sadness to her senses, suddenly took on new meaning…a chance to leave the sadness behind. "Say goodbye to the old street, That never cared much for you anyway, The different-colored doorways, You thought would let you in one day"
Erica strode into the kitchen and opened the electronic wine cellar. She surveyed the contents before selecting a special Bordeaux she’d bought herself; at the time she’d envisioned saving it for just the right occasion. Some special occasion worthy of celebration and congratulations. Her smile broadened as she pulled open the cork and heard the satisfying pop. "Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye old friend, I can't make you stay, I can't spend another ten years, Wishing you would anyway"
She poured the jewel-colored liquid and slowly swirled the glass on the granite countertop. The wine hugged the sides of the glass opened its aromas to her. Erica took a shallow, slow sip and closed her eyes in enjoyment. She allowed the stress of the last six months to just float away. "I walk down to the railroad track and ride a rusty train, With a million other faces I shoot through the city veins, Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye old friend, You wanted to be free, Somewhere beyond the bitter end is where I want to be"
The ‘bitter end’, Erica inhaled slowly…the bitter end was finally over. A new city, a new job, a new house…a new life. She thought to herself, maybe it was true that the ‘old friend’ wanted to be free…but, maybe she had wanted that also. She couldn’t help smirk to herself, because for the first time in a long time, this…this felt good. She was finally free. "Waiting on a train track, and the train never comes back, And even I'm getting tired of useless desires"
Saturday morning Erica stepped from her car and reveled at the warm winter sun that hit her face. In the few weeks that she’d been in the city, she now understood what drew so many people to the south. She hadn’t understood before, there were the stereotypes and the brutal summers, but now she got it. The weather was actually amazing, the pace of things was deliberate, the people were friendly (sometimes a little too friendly for her taste, but still). She hurried to cross the street, before the light changed, and thought to herself, ‘I’m definitely getting a convertible’.
Erica took her time shopping, perusing the displays of the small uptown market. She’d been so glad when one of her new colleagues recommended the place. After she moved in, she’d resigned herself to the idea that she was going to have to give up most of the fresh meats and produce, and the small market gourmet brands, she’d gotten spoiled on from Pike’s. But, low and behold, the southern city, she’d doubted, had risen to the challenge.
She glanced down at the list in her hand and reached for the fresh feta, thinking she’d forgotten to include spinach. Her fingers brushed another warm hand before she was able to grasp the cheese. Erica quickly looked up, “Sorry.” Twinkling green eyes met her own; she and the brunette had thwarted each other’s attempt to reach for the last package of the briny goat cheese. They both paused, eyeing one another, then turned their attention back to the dairy case.
The brunette’s eyes smiled and her mouth tightened into a smirk. Erica looked back down at the package wondering, ‘do I just take it?...I mean I was here first…what’s the protocol here?...do I have to say something, or just take it?’
The other woman didn’t fail to notice the narrowing of Erica’s eyes and her glances between herself and the case. “Go ahead,” she smiled warmly and held her hand up in front her, the palm facing Erica. She jokingly relinquished any claim to the cheese. Erica eyed the woman slightly suspiciously and tugged at the right corner of her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Please, I have a feeling if you don’t get that feta, one of us isn’t walking out of here. And most likely that person is gonna be me.” The woman chuckled lightly and folded her hand over the handles of her basket that was hanging from her left arm. “Please, it’s all yours.”
Erica exhaled and laughed, “Thanks.”
The brunette winked at her and brushed past to continue on shopping. Erica dropped the cheese into her basket and turned slightly, to her left, to grab a block of French butter. The woman reached out at the same time, but stopped before their hands could collide again.
The other woman shook her head. “Okay, now I think you’re doing it on purpose.”
They both laughed and Erica drew her hand back this time. “I’m sorry. Please go ahead.”
The woman grabbed the butter and tossed into the basket, “Sure, now that there’s more than one, I can go first.” She extended her hand to Erica, “I’m Mary Jo, but the way.”
Erica reached and shook her hand, “Erica.” They both turned and walked down the aisle, side-by-side. Erica wrinkled her brow, “I’m sorry…”
Mary Jo interrupted her, “I was just giving you a hard time, pssf…don’t worry about it. I’ll survive.”
“Yeah, but I’ve probably messed up your dinner plans now. And you’re going to have to completely rework the entire meal for your boyfriend or husband, right?”
Erica caught a sidelong glance for her last remark. “No…you just messed up plans for me, alone… my girlfriend left town a couple months ago.”
Erica cleared her throat quietly, “Oh…I’m sorry.”
The woman waved her hand, “Don’t be. I’m not.” She paused in the aisle to select a box of pasta from the shelf. Erica stopped as well and turned to face her. “It was for the best. Sometimes you just gotta cut your losses. Somebody has to have the guts to walk away.”
Erica shifted the basket to her left arm, “Yeah, I guess that’s me.”
Mary Jo looked at her curiously.
“No, I just mean…” Erica shook her head and glanced down at the floor. “I had the guts a couple months ago.” She looked back up to meet Mary Jo’s eyes, smiled lightly and shrugged her shoulders, “So here I am.”
Mary Jo indicated further down the aisle with her finger, and they continued walking. “Ah, a heartbreaker?”
Erica swallowed slowly; this was the first time since leaving Seattle that she’d discussed anything about what happened, with anyone. Granted she hadn’t really told much to this woman that she’d just met, but it was the most she’d ever said out loud. “No, quite the other way, I’m afraid.”
The other woman nodded slightly, “So…sounds like we’re both damaged goods.”
Erica turned her head and flashed a genuine smile, “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
Mary Jo chuckled and they made their way to the check-out stand.
After Erica had paid for her items, and just as she was turning, with her bags, towards the door, Mary Jo fell in step beside her. They exited the market and the brunette turned to Erica, she extended her a folded slip of paper, “Seeing as how you’re new in town, give me a call if you ever want to do anything or whatever.”
Erica leaned back slightly, balancing the paper bags against her chest, she extended the fingers of her right hand that was supporting a bag and reached for the slip of paper. Their fingertips brushed slightly, and Mary Jo gave a warm smile before releasing the paper. “See you around, Erica.”
Several days later, Erica left the hospital early. It had been a gloriously slow day and she had been able to sneak out in the late afternoon. She clicked on the stereo and moved into the kitchen, her hand rested on the refrigerator handle as her eyes landed on the scrap of paper she’d tacked up with a magnet. She chewed the inside of her lip, reading over Mary Jo’s name. "I'm not looking for the rest of your life, I just want another chance to live"
The lyrics resonated in her head and she dropped her hand from the door handle. Erica walked to the entryway and fished her phone out of her purse. She went back to the kitchen and dialed the number from the paper on her fridge. As the phone rang, she opened the wine cellar, between her cabinets, and ran her eyes over the contents.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mary Jo?...This is, um Erica.” She straightened up and closed the glass cellar door. “From the market?”
Erica could hear the smile in the other woman’s voice. “I remember. How are you?”
She swallowed and turned around to lean her lower back against the countertop, “Good, how have you been?”
“Great…listen, I’m glad you called. What are you doing this evening?”
Erica rubbed her left hand around the back of her neck, “Uh, this evening? Nothing.”
“Good, do you want to come over for dinner? I know its last minute, but turns out I unexpectedly have a free night. What do you say?”
Erica blinked her eyes slowly and pushed off the counter. “Um, sure. Yeah..that sounds nice.”
“Fantastic…Say, like seven?” Mary Jo didn’t wait for response. “Where do you live? I can give you directions. “
Erica glanced around the kitchen, as if looking for something that would give her a clue as to where she lived. This conversation had moved a lot faster than she had expected, and it had thrown her off a bit to actually be making plans that very evening. “Well um,…it’s called Dilworth, I think.”
“What street?”
Erica gave her the street name and house number.
“Okay, so are you ready? I’m going to give you really complicated directions.”
Erica grabbed a pad out of a kitchen drawer and tossed it on the countertop. “I’m ready.”
“So…when you leave the house, cross the street, turn left, walk down five houses. And, ta-da…you’re there.”
Erica dropped the pen she was holding, onto the pad, and laughed aloud. “I think I can find it.”
Erica could hear that smile in Mary Jo’s voice again. “Well…just call me if you get lost.”