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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Life Changing Decisions/Events
- Published: 05/14/2022
A Simple Question
Born 1947, M, from Oceanside, United StatesA Simple Question
I was sitting sideways half in and out the front seat of my car, waiting for my soon to be ex-wife to finish in the dollar store, when I heard a woman’s voice ask, “Are you alright?”
Looking up, I felt a spark of pleasure when I saw who had spoken. Somewhere in her mid to late twenties, she was really cute: long brown hair, extraordinary blue eyes, a smattering of freckles on her nose, and a tight-looking figure. She had a slight Asian appearance, as well.
I smiled. “I’m okay. Just waiting for my roommate to finish in the store.” Don’t know why I said roommate instead of wife. Afraid I might squelch the moment, which was feeling really great, otherwise!
Nodding, she started to continue walking, but stopped abruptly. I saw her eyebrows lift in surprise. “Are you a writer?” she asked.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
She pointed toward my open car door. In the door’s side pocket was the paperback I’d been reading— ‘On Writing,’ by Stephen King. “What do you write?” she asked.
“Mostly short stories.”
“What kind?”
“A lot of science fiction and fantasy.”
“So, do I,” she replied. Now it was my turn to be surprised.
Reaching into my shirt pocket, I retrieved the little notebook I keep on me at all times, in case I need to make notes. Tucked inside the notebook, I kept a couple of business cards that declared I was a writer.
After I handed her my card, she dug into her purse and pulled out a card of her own. It listed her name as Alice Cole. After handing it to me, she said, “Call me some time. We’ll have coffee together. We can discuss our writings.” Whoa, I thought, as my own eyebrows shot up. A female making the first move! What a revelation!
“I will,” I told her, as my chest swelled with pleasure. Who would have guessed I’d meet a fellow writer this way—and one that was so cute?
Then as I watched, she disappeared into the store, just as my, soon to be ex-wife emerged. “Who was that?” she asked after getting into the car.
“Just another writer,” I replied casually. But it didn’t feel casual. It felt wonderful! And I definitely planned on calling her, but I had a few things to take care of first.
Five years my senior, Janie was a corporate lawyer, while I was just a mail clerk for a large advertising company. If you’re thinking it was our age differences, or our salary differences for the reason we broke up, you’d be wrong. Simply, it was because, she had cheated on me with her boss.
As soon as the papers were signed, I’d planned on moving out of our two-bedroom apartment and into a one-bedroom unit in our same complex. Janie would remain in the apartment we had shared, mostly because she used the extra bedroom as her in-house office.
If you’re wondering, we both chose to live in an apartment instead of a house. Neither of us wanted the hassle dealing with the keep-up of a home, especially when things either malfunctioned or broke. With our apartment complex, if something malfunctioned, all we had to do was call maintenance and they’d repair or replace it.
It took me a couple of weeks to get set up in my new place, after which, I finally got around to calling Alice Cole. While I was trying to decide where we should meet, she, once again, took the initiative by suggesting we meet at the Starbucks in the same complex as the dollar store. “And don’t forget to bring samples of your writing.”
“And you, too.”
After ordering our drinks, we sat at an outside table. It was a perfect day. A cloudless sky with an early spring breeze that felt more like summer.
“So, what did you bring?” she asked after taking a sip of her latte. I had ordered a coffee Frappuccino.
Placing both my manuscripts on the table, I explained, “One is a ghost story and the other is a love story between an engineer and a computer.”
“Ooh, that is one story I definitely want to read!”
“And what about yours?”
After laying her two manuscripts on top of each other, she said, “The top one is a story about a planetary dictator who gets his comeuppance in the end. And the second is also a love story between an astronaut and an alien.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
Then after exchanging our manuscripts, we began with the usual questions about how long we’d been writing (three years for her, one for me), and where we grew up—and that’s when I had my mind blown. It was either kismet, or the universe had conspired to have us meet. Because, not only were we the same age, but we both had been born and raised in the same city, but on opposite sides of town.
“It’s amazing that we haven’t met before,” I said to her.
She suddenly looked pensive. “Actually, I think I have seen you before.”
“Where?”
“In Perfect Produce.”
“You shop at Perfect Produce? Isn’t that kind of out of your way?”
“Yeah, but, my roommate works there. She gets me all kinds of discounts.” Hearing this, made me a little jealous. I wish I could have someone give me discounts.
“I just thought of something,” I said to her. “If you live in the Mountain View section of town, what were you doing in my area the day we met?”
“My cousin is the manager there. I was meeting her after work We were going for drinks to celebrate a colleague’s birthday.”
“Oh, yeah, so, where do you work?”
“Actually, I have two jobs. I work part time in a used bookstore. The other half, I’m a barista.”
“And you come to Starbucks to relax?”
“Why not?” I couldn’t think of a reason to disagree
We talked some more, mostly about who our favorite authors were and what TV shows and sports we liked, then decided to meet the following weekend at the Starbucks where she worked.
I really liked her writing, especially the story about the astronaut and the alien, who was a female and, because of the description of her and her personality, kind of reminded me a little of Alice. I was hoping she liked my stories just as well. But when she gave them back to me, and I saw the mass of red marks covering may pages, my enthusiasm collapsed like a ruined cake.
Noticing, she tried to ease my pain by saying, “Try not to get too upset by all my corrections; you’ve been writing for only a short time, but I’m sure, you’ll get better.”
I did, with Alice’s help. It took nearly a year before I began finally receiving acceptances instead of rejections. Which was the reason, one night, with Alice lying naked next to me in bed, I turned to her and said, “You realize you’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”
“You’ve said that to me a number of times.”
“Yeah, but I think about it even when we’re not making love.”
Grinning, she replied, “You really know how to put a smile on my face.”
“Thank you,” I said while feeling the heat from her extraordinary blue eyes. “And to think, all this started because of a simple question: are you alright?”
“Are you?”
“Absolutely!!”
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