There Was This Girl…

A collection of short stories about romances happening quickly, out of nowhere, and from normal everyday occurrences. Gratuitous sex not required, although at times, it does happen.

One - Amy - A simple trip downstairs in the elevator changed both their lives. There was a bit more to it than that, but not much.

Two - Debbie - You can find everything you need at a Safeway supermarket. And I mean everything. Charlie did.

Three - Nikki - Perkins Restaurant is just as good a place to meet a person in need as any other. Maybe better. In any case, just when she needed help the most, Charlie was there for her. Circumstances and selfish, careless bastards do roam the earth though, often ruining perfectly good romances.

Four - Pamela - Charlie just wanted to get a good deal on greens fees at the local golf course. Best laid plans, right? Well, anyway, 'There Was This Girl'. Oh, my, was there.

Five - Willie - She said it was the first time she'd been to that dump. She was cute, blonde, and deadly with a pistol. He couldn't help but fall in love with her, the best-looking Sky Marshal Charlie had ever met! (This one is a bit ‘spicy’, spelled ‘e x p l i c i t’.)

Six - Tiffany - There is no finer way to help romance along than to whisk a woman off her feet and carry her off into the sunset, or some direction, anyway. A couple of kisses and cuddles never hurt anything, either.

Seven - Tamara - Another flat tire on a lonely highway. Charlie stops to make sure all is well, and, well, ‘There Was This Girl’.

One - Amy

The elevator opened on the eleventh floor, and I got in. I hoped I didn’t look idiotic or anything, but I couldn’t help checking out the contents of the elevator car.

There was this girl.

She must’ve been coming down from twelve, or the offices in the penthouse. It used to be a restaurant. Now it’s a real estate office for the condos in the building. I could tell where she was going, since I could, I’m sorry to say, smell it on her. I’m a recovering smoker, so I picked up on it pretty quickly. I hadn't seen this girl here before, so I did my normal for any beautiful woman I’m put into a close quarters situation with and checked for rings. Yep, she had ‘em. Back up, Chuckles! Wedding rings on both hands?? Not normal, but we bachelors see that a lot. It’s because we look. Most people don’t notice. She was worth a second look, though. Most definitely worth a second look. Petite, young, cute face, perky nose, bright eyes, nice body, long light brown hair, and cute glasses. Just plain cute. She had on a long tight sweater, accentuating her hourglass figure, nice little bust, skinny waist, and cute round bottom. Again, I’m thinking cute. She was wearing opaque black tights, showing off the shape and length of her legs. As petite as she was, she was mostly legs. My kind of girl. I didn’t care about the smoking so much since she was so cute. Anyone can quit. I am living proof.

“Hi,” she said, looking up at me from her five foot nothing self in stocky three-inch-high heeled lace up boots. They looked like combat boots, but were trimmed with contrasting colors, gray and dark green leather, tan trim and laces, and were tall, making her legs look like little trophies.

“Hi. Going down?” I asked. She nodded, smiling cutely. The appropriate red lighted arrow was on, so of course it was going down, but I felt the need to say something in return.

When we reached the lobby, she got out, saying politely, and similar to what just about everyone seemed to say in this building, “Have a great morning.”

“I will, thank you. A better one now!” I grinned and as she turned, still looking at me, walked away, forming a large smile on her face. Hmmm, I thought, ‘cute, but those rings. Be careful there, buddy.’

It was a few days later, I was coming in from the store, and pushed the button to ride up to the condo. She walked up behind me. “Oh, Hi! We meet again,” I said, smiling.

She said something, talking into space, then I understood her. “Hold on, Jennifer. Yes, hello, yourself. Nice to see you again. Going up?”

I smiled and nodded.

She seemed to return to space and obviously to me now, talking to her phone over some type of hidden earpieces. “No, I won’t. I’m done with his sorry ass. I’ll call you back, Jennifer.” She put her phone in her purse.

“My name’s Charlie.” I reached out.

“Amy.” She shook my hand. So small, so dainty, so cute.

“You work here?”

“Receptionist, leasing office, upstairs. You live here?”

“For a while. Can you press eleven for me?”

“Sure.”

The door opened on the eleventh floor. “I hope to see you again, Amy. Have a great rest of the day.”

“Same to you, Mr… Charlie, and thank you.”

It was another four or five days, I certainly wasn’t keeping track. A man my age, a woman her age, that would be what they would call idiocy in most circles. She was young and beautiful. I was old and not.

“Going down, Charlie?”

“That would be nice. Amy, do you appreciate honesty?”

“More than you will ever know, Charlie. What is it you’d like to tell me?”

“You are beautiful, and I am going to be hungry around six, and if you are not otherwise engaged, I’d give my left arm, in the figurative sense only, if you’d join me.”

“How handy. Our office closes at six.”

We stepped out of the elevator and stood in the portico off the lobby.

“I’m not a stalker, Amy, but I’m not the dullest knife in the block. The hours are posted on the sign over there at the desk. They’re on the sign downstairs in the garage as well.”

“Touché. Am I dressed well enough, or do I need to go home and change?”

“Doll, if you were dressed any more appropriately, I’d need a new battery in my pacemaker.”

She giggled. She was dressed in a dark green mini, dark, yet sheer hose, black high heeled pumps with a very thin platform, and a ruffled placket blouse with a jacket over it.

“You look amazing. Trust me. If you didn’t, and I didn’t think there was some attraction here, I wouldn’t be asking you out to dinner. You understand that, right?”

“Completely. You’ll be my first. You need to know that up front.”

“Your first? I’m only asking you out to dinner, at least at this point anyway.”

“I know. Way too late for that other one, but I’m pretty sure you’ll have been the first real gentleman I’ll have had a dinner date with when we’re done.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that and yet it’s good to know, I guess. From my standpoint, anyway. Truth is, I heard a bit of the end of your call the other day with Miss Jennifer and figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask you out. Worst you could do was say no, or maybe shoot me with your pepper spray or something.” She giggled again. “I hope it wasn’t devastating?” She looked at me in question. “The call. With Jennifer. You said you were ‘done with his sorry ass’.”

“No, not devastating. Just another dickhead in a long line of boys who think with their… Sorry. I’m being a bit juvenile. I can do better. Jennifer and I… You have a good memory.” She looked up at me. “I’d love to go to dinner with you Charlie. I’m going out back for a bit. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Can I meet you right around here at six, then I can bring you back if your car is here or take you home?”

“Yes. Please. Here at six. And, yes, my car is here… if it starts.” She smiled. “Charlie… Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”

I touched my finger to my brow and left her. She watched me leaving, then as she turned, I saw the smile forming on her face as she glanced back at me then walked out the back door to the patio, lit up a smoke, and pulled her phone out. I watched her from the parking lot. Maybe I was a stalker.

She talked on the phone, animatedly, smiling and laughing, then said something, nodded, spoke again, pushed the screen, put the phone in her jacket pocket, and put the cigarette out. She wasn’t done with it, not if she smoked like I used to. I’d take ‘em right down to the filter. Nice to know, though. I started my car and left as she was walking back inside. She looked over, but I don’t know if she saw me in my car, or not.

I picked up some groceries for the weekend then went next door to the liquor store and got a couple bottles of Moscato, some beer, and some honey whiskey. That stuff is growing on me. Probably not a good thing, but better than meth, or heroin, maybe. The years would tell.

At six, I was standing in the lobby, looking through my mail, almost all junk mail for the previous resident. His name was obviously ‘Resident’, first name was ‘Current’, so it was pretty easy to tell. I pitched all but one envelope in the trash as she looked at me, walking off the elevator. I stuck that one envelope in my suit pocket, walked toward her, took her hand, kissed it, and did my thing.

“Thank you for accepting my offer, Amy. Do you have anywhere special you like, or do I get to choose?”

“You choose, please. My experience has been with fast food and chain places. While some of the chains are fine, if you like, and Popeye’s is OK for lunch, a date in a booth at Wendy’s does not appeal to me anymore. That last one got a touched incensed when I told him that. Are you into abject honesty as well, Charlie?”

“Absolutely. The only way to fly. Hurts sometimes, in the short term, but not in the long run.”

“I know I’m young, and I know I’m cute. I’m not beautiful in the classic sense, but I still don’t want to give my ass away for a double cheeseburger and fries. Sorry. That was crass. I won’t put out for surf and turf either, but hopefully you understand. A union carpenter journeyman, as he bragged he was, makes enough to take a date to somewhere with metal utensils and cloth napkins. Just sayin’.”

“Valid point. Pepper Tree, surf and turf, and no nookie afterwards. I think that sounds like a plan. I’m having a steak, but you knock yourself out. Anything and or everything on the menu you want is fine with me.”

She giggled again. “You’re cute. For an old man with a pacemaker. What do you do, Charlie?”

“I’m in the service, Amy. Right now, I’m in school at the base back there, but I’ll be here for a while afterwards from what I understand.”

“Good, so if I kiss you goodnight, after this wonderful date, you aren’t leaving town in the morning?”

“Absolutely not. That’s happened to you?”

“Very recently. More recently than I want to admit, then dickhead showed up at a bad time, and…”

“Thank you for letting me know up front. Amy, I like you. I have since the first time I saw you in that long sweater, tights, and clunky boots. Cute by the way, especially on a little girl like you. I’ll be careful with you. As careful as I can be, anyway. I work weird hours, but I’ll be honest with you, and treat you like a lady, and with respect. If you’ll do the same for me, I’ll make you a deal.”

“You really do have a good memory, Charlie. Seriously. To remember that outfit? Wowsers. OK. A deal. What is it?”

“If we date again, or decide to date a third time, I won’t be seeing anyone else. If you go elsewhere, I will as well, and that will be it, but if we’re dating, until you pull the cord, we’re dating. I’m sorry, but I don’t share well.”

We pulled up to the Pepper Tree and I walked her inside. I had reservations, hoping she wouldn’t pick somewhere else when I asked. As I walked her in, hand in the small of her back, and the hostess showed us the table, she reached back, pressed my hand into her back and looked up at me. She smiled. More of a grin, actually.

“It’s a deal. Under most circumstances, Charlie, I don’t, or won’t, either. Share.”

I seated her, scooting her chair in a bit, then sat next to her.

“Tell me about the rings.”

“Oh, God. Yes. OK. Here we go. A multitude of reasons for wearing these, starting with fending off idiots and weirdos. I’m glad you’re not an idiot or a weirdo. At least… Never Mind. You heard me with Jennifer, though, so you knew. That makes it a bit better.” She giggled. “This one,” she touched her wedding ring finger, “is my mother’s wedding ring from my father. This one,” pointing to a wide band on her thumb, “was his from her. Their wedding set, if you will. This one is a CZ given to me by my junior year high school sweetheart. I was a junior. He graduated the year before, promising to replace it with a real diamond, then left out of Fort Carson and didn’t come back... Alive. He came back, but he’s… He was in the sandbox. Ok, that’s three for three. This one is my grandmother’s, my mother’s mother’s promise ring from Poppa, my grandfather. They were kids. He promised he’d come back from Viet Nam and marry her. He did. They grew old together. They’re still old and growing older. In Nebraska. Ickkk. I get out there about once a year. It’s not the pretty part of Nebraska.”

I had ordered while she talked, and when the bread showed up, she apologized for going on and on.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. I asked you to explain them. We vowed honesty, right?” She nodded. “You told me. Don’t be so quick to apologize for doing the right thing. I’m not someone you need to work at pleasing. Be Amy and I’ll be Charlie, and let’s see what happens.”

“Charlie what?”

“Charles Campbell Corbin. Amy what?”

“Amy Lynn Porter.”

“Nice to meet you, Amy. If you don’t choke and die on dinner, would you go to a movie with me tomorrow night?”

“Yes. That means we’re exclusive, according to your deal.”

“Works for me. You?”

“Yep. Oh, good. Salad.” The server brought the salads. “Thank you for ordering. You didn’t really have to do the surf and turf thing, though.”

“Yes, actually, I did. It’s a personal goal of mine to test every woman I date and find out what their threshold really is. If yours is surf and turf and below for a ‘no’, I need to find out what constitutes grounds for a ‘yes’. Prime rib? Diamonds? Barbecued ribs? Emeralds? I just need to know.”

“Love. I’m done screwing around for anything else. Charlie, you asked for honesty. The next time my panties come off for a man it will be because I think I love him.”

“Right answer, doll. We need to find you some barbecued ribs, though. You can get prime rib here next time if you want, but... Don’t do the barbecue here. You’ll be… We’ll find other arrangements.” She laughed at my discussion of our relationship goals.

We ate, talked, and smiled at each other. This was a misplaced and mishandled girl. She was bright, energetic, had a really good outlook on life, and was just fun to be around. I was going to really screw with her mind, by NOT screwing with her body. I wanted to see how she handled it.

We did a movie Saturday night, then ice cream, even though it was pretty cold out. Wednesday, I talked her down to my place for a sandwich and a small salad over her lunch hour. Friday, I took her to a different steak place called the Cowboy Star, and Saturday we just went for a drive and walked up in the hills and around Manitou Springs doing the tourist thing. The next Tuesday, I had Chinese waiting for her at a corner table in the lobby of the hotel complex, and Thursday it was Mexican at my place again. Friday, back at the Pepper Tree, since I really liked it, we had a conversation.

“Charlie, do you like me?”

“Hell, yes. Lots. I wouldn’t get Chinese takeout for some bimbo I didn’t care about. Trust me on that one, Amy. Why do you ask?”

“We’ve been dating for two and a half weeks and the only thing you’ve done was kiss me and touch my side. My ribs. I like that, by the way. It feels… It feels nice. Different. Warm. Real. Close. Gentle. Nice.”

“Yes. Good! I was hoping it would. Does it make you think that maybe I want to have you around for something other than getting my pecker wet?”

“Oh, gross! Charlie!”

“Amy. Honey. Think carefully about your question and where you were going with it. I’m twice your age. I don’t even know how old you are, but I’m pretty sure it’s half of mine. You were tired of being used. You wanted… You want to be loved. I think you want someone to love back, and you specifically told me the next time your panties come off you’d be telling the guy you were with that you loved him. Your question? Do I like you? Absolutely yes. I like you a lot. I like you enough not to act like a child and try to do something you aren’t ready for. Do I love you? Probably yes, but I’m not sure enough of myself to say it yet. Stick around. I may work up the nerve. One never knows.” This time it was me chuckling, not her giggling. She smiled, though, reached out for my cheek, and just touched me. I continued for her, “By the way, you aren’t the only one at this table with a bad history around relationships.”

“Thank you. This honesty thing is tough. I want to fuck your brains out, Charlie. I’m attracted to you in ways I have never been before, but… Shit, if you asked me to marry you right now, I’d say ‘no’. I don’t know enough about you. Can I take you out to dinner one of these days?”

“Yes, you can. Please. I may still make you let me pay for it, but yes. And, hon, honesty is a bitch. But the alternative is absolutely unacceptable to me and always will be. I wouldn’t ask you to marry me right now, so that doesn’t need to worry you. If you like me, and we’re exclusive, I’ll be with you a long time. If you don’t, let me know. If anything else happens… Never mind, hon. I really like being around you and I’m still trying to win you over. If you don’t think that’s possible, jump out. I still think it is, so I’m not jumping.”

“I’m not jumping, either. There’s something about you that I don’t want to let go of. I do, however, want to feed you in my apartment tomorrow night.”

“OK.”

“Just, OK? Not what are we having? Or any other questions?”

“No. Amy, I’m close. Very close. I trust you. I admire you. I want to be around you. I’m close. I don’t care if we eat Butterfingers with ranch dressing on them. I’ll be there.” I took her home, put my hand on her ribs, and kissed her. I felt her shudder. We touched tongues for a bit, then I kissed her forehead and sent her inside, listening to the deadbolt move to the locking position. The door was inside the building and not very substantial. I could hear her as she leaned back against the door and sighed. A laugh was heard in the background. I’d met her roommate. Jennifer Forsythe was a cutie, and very quiet and polite. Usually. Around me at least. She was laughing at the look on Amy’s face if my hunch was playing out.

My schoolwork was about to lead me out of the country for a week or so, and I called and told Amy that I’d be gone for a bit and as soon as I got back, I’d be honored if she would join me for an early presentation of the most recent Star Wars offering, and another adventure to the Pepper Tree for some sustenance following the cinematic viewing.

“Prince Charles,” she asked, “are you asking me out on a date, or some formal gathering requiring invitations and such.”

“A date. Just a date. I need to take off for a bit, though, sweetie. I’ll be back pretty soon, but if you want to house sit for me, or just check on the joint, you can get the key from Bob, down at the desk, and crash at my place. I told him it would be OK. He looked at me funny, but you know Bob. If he looks at you funny, tell him to mind his own beeswax and hand you Charlie’s key.” She laughed. “I’ll be back Thursday, I think. I’ll call you if you don’t mind me bothering you.” Her answer both surprised and elated me.

“You’d better. It doesn’t matter what time.”

We finished the call. I was actually dreading this trip. Ocean crossing, refueling practice, and trying out some new system to jam and reverse a control module on a rocket launcher. The good news was we would be over quote friendly territory unquote. The bad news… We would be over friendly territory trying to screw with a rocket launcher aimed at the friendlies. How it got there was anyone’s guess, but our job was to make it go boom, where it sat, without physically touching it. Electronically? Laserly? Emotionally? All OK, but not physically.

This is what I was in school there at the base to learn. I was the aircraft commander on a plane that carried stuff that did stuff that wasn’t supposed to be able to be done. We were trying out some new stuff and they wanted me to drive the plane that did the stuff. Enough abstracts for you? Good. I’m getting tired of them, too.

All was well and good, and I was on the way back to my seat from the john after we made the run and told the launcher to screw itself. It was a fireball worthy of film, but all Uncle Sam uses these days is digital, so it was all on chips. In any case, a flare of some type came straight up at us, right out of that ‘friendly territory’, probably a freaking old Soviet SAM, and caught the outboard engine, violently shaking the plane and throwing me, knee first, damn it, into the seat rail along the side of the ship. My knee was going to kill me. Twenty hours back to base, and there I was with a twisted and banged up freaking knee.

I made it back to my seat, checked with the co-pilot, who had shut number four down and put the fire out, feathered the prop, and made it so we could trundle along. That was all after he fired flares to keep it from happening again. A lurch then a slight turn needing correction startled us. Everything looked OK, at least as good as it could possibly be under the circumstances, so we kept on. This airplane was not landing outside of the United States, and I was NOT turning it into a boat, so we just pressed on, meeting our refueling rendezvous points and kept at it. I told him he’d probably have to steer once on the ground and told him what happened.

The Mediterranean looked like a good fishing hole, but I’d heard from a friend that outside of the fisheries around the islands and such, it pretty much sucked. I wondered if Amy would like to go fishing there. We could rent a boat, drop a line, talk about the future maybe. She’s cute. Really cute. I wondered if I was too old for her, or her too young for me. My knee hurt, badly, and I was doing everything I could think of to keep my mind off of it and keep it from making me jump out of the plane to my immediate but pain free death. Our navigator gave me some Aleve and told me to grow up. I’m going to fire him, first chance I get. First effing chance, I’m firing that SOB. I must’ve said it out loud.

“You do realize I’m engaged to the Wing Commander’s daughter, right, Charlie?” Reserve air crews have different relationships than active duty, from what I understand. My navigator ran a bank, normally. His fiancée’s father ran an insurance company. My co-pilot was a pilot. Who would’ve guessed? I was retired. Completely. A trust fund baby. I had been for all these years, but no one knew that besides me.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” The entire cockpit broke up laughing, including the observer in the jump seat that the Agency sent to watch the whole ordeal. “I’ll never get ahead.”

We made it back, in one piece, with an escort. The plane was parked in a secure hangar, and it took us about four hours to convince the brass that we hadn’t sold the engine on the black market for drugs or something. It was gone. We couldn’t see it all that well during the flight home due to the cloud cover and darkness, but the engine came out of the mounts and was missing. It was just gone. We were more than lucky that the end of the wing stayed with the rest of the aircraft. So many thousands of things could have happened that didn’t, thank God.

Then, since my navigator’s future father-in-law saw me struggling to walk out to the parking lot, I had to check into the hospital, get a couple of x-rays, a CAT scan, and an MRI, and have a couple of doctors, both women, pretty women by the way, much to my dissatisfaction and chagrin, since I had promised Amy I’d be good, poke at me and tell me I was hurt, but it would be OK in a while. “Thanks, but it feels like something is broken,” I tried to tell them.

“It’s just your pride, Colonel Corbin. You’ll be fine. Take these, and wear this.” A bottle of generic Aleve and a knee brace. Goodie. They let me go back to the condo and told me to come back in seventy-two hours.

It was five minutes until six in the evening on Thursday when I called Amy.

“Hey, girlfriend. What’s going on?” I asked her.

“Nothing, just waiting for my boyfriend to call. I need to see you. We need to talk.”

“Already? I was hoping for a bit more time to convince you…” She interrupted me.

“The other kind.”

“Oh. OK. Can you come over here? I’m kind of… I need not to move around a lot.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing serious. Believe it or not, I fell and hurt my knee.”

She was there in ten minutes, I had tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches on the stove.

“Hungry?”

“I could eat. You have me kind of spoiled, though. That’s mostly what I want to talk to you about.”

“Amy, all I ask is that you remember our pact. Our promise to be honest. With that in mind, I will stand here by the stove and flip these things over BEFORE they burn, versus my normal method of after they burn, and listen to what you have to say.”

“I missed you.” She looked at me. I looked at her. She smiled a very small, thin, demonstrative, fearful smile.

“I missed you, too, doll. We’ve been having a good time together, and when I had to leave, that…” She interrupted me.

“No, Charlie, I mean I really missed you.” She stood, lifted her skirt, and pulled her panties down over her garter belt, stockings, and her high heels. “I missed you.” She came over to the stove, stuck them halfway into my pants pocket, kissed me, then walked back to the table and sat down. “I missed you.” A tear fell down her pretty cheek.

I still had the spatula in one hand, and I was wiping the tear with the thumb of my other when I told her, “I love you, too, Amy.”

Two - Debbie

There was this girl.

The first time I saw her at the store, she smiled at me. I notice these things. Being a lonely guy and super leery of anything wearing a skirt, I notice.

The second time, she helped me check out in the self-service lane, and I really noticed her. She was gorgeous. She was friendly. She was not wearing a ring. I made a point to thank her, letting her know I was new to this part of town, and really appreciated her help. She went so far as to say she hoped she saw me there again. Of course, I took it to mean she wanted to see me, Charlie, there again, not just see the customer sticking his credit card in the reader there again. I’m a single man. Of course, that’s how I took it.

The third time, she smiled first, then I smiled back, and when she approached, I just asked her what time she got off and if I could take her to dinner.

“Diving right in, are we?”

“Yes, I guess we are. I’m not good at this, Debbie. I never have been anyway.”

“You’re doing fine now, ummm. I have a nametag, sir. You don’t.”

“Charlie. Just call me Charlie, for now.”

“OK, Charlie. You’re doing fine. Five. I get off at five, and I’d love to. You seem like a nice guy. Wuups, I need to help that lady over there. She’s trying to put her shopper card in the credit card slot instead of scanning it. I’ll see you this evening? Here? I walk to work, so it makes sense to me if it’s OK with you.”

“Perfect sense. See you fivish.” I tried to tone my smile down, but it was hard. She said yes! Where I got the nerve to ask this doll out, I’ll never know, but it happened.

I’ve been skittish and untrusting of women since I came home a few days early from a long overseas mission and found my former fiancée in bed with another man.

Going through that memory had me almost shaking with fear. An hour until I do the same thing again. An hour until I think about letting a woman into my life. Maybe a girl would be more like it. Maybe she’ll be a better person. More honest. More… Loyal?

I picked her up, Debbie, on the sidewalk out in front of Safeway. She was in her black shirt, black above the knee skirt, and black Keds. She looked just fine for a casual dinner out and I told her that. I also told her how gorgeous she was as she took her nametag off.

“Thanks, Charlie. That’s sweet. You look a bit nervous. Please don’t be. I’m just a girl. No reason to be frightened.”

My mind went back to that day. I didn’t want to, but…

My first thought was to unload my trusty forty-five into both of them, but then I thought. ‘You know, Charlie, this guy just did you a favor.’ He was shocked when I said, ‘Thank you’, and quite calmly asked him to please get dressed and leave. She was shocked when I told him to grab as much of her stuff as he could carry from the closet and take her with him. I think I was quite rude when I mentioned her life expectancy not being very long if she didn’t leave out the front door before him, but I didn’t really care at that point.

I told him I’d ship the rest, everything that she had at my place, to him when I calmed down. “Just leave your address on the table on the way out,” I told him. I never said a word to her. I didn’t hear a word she said either. It just sounded like squeaking, so I blocked it out. I never let her eyes meet with mine. I saw the tears, her tears, when I glanced at her to make sure she was getting dressed to leave, but they didn’t affect me. Mine did, my tears, naturally, but…

In any case, as soon as they pulled away, I took the sheets from the bed, fairly new, luxurious, 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, out to the little picnic area and burned them in the fire ring. I toasted their demise with some American Honey and washed it down with a Coors Light.

I put her personal things into a clothes basket she brought over once with her laundry, stacked as much clothing as I could on top of it and put it on the guestroom bed. I put everything of hers I could find in there, then closed the door. I even rummaged through the fridge and dumped her wine out. The next day, with a bit of a hangover, admittedly, I took her stuff to the FedEx Office store. They found a box big enough to hold the basket and all her stuff, stuck down in the sides and on top, then mailed it to his apartment, less than two miles, and yet an eternity, away.

“Did you know him?” Debbie asked.

“Yeah. He was my copilot for a while until a year or so ago. He got promoted and got his own crew and was assigned to a new squadron a couple of months prior to... I hadn’t spent much time with him since. We weren’t close or anything. Different lifestyles. Yeah, I knew him.”

“Jesus, Charlie, I’m sorry that happened.”

“No, Debbie, I’m sorry. I must have been thinking out loud. It’s been well over ten or so months now, and I should get over it. I’m sorry I just spent five minutes of my life, and worse yet, five minutes of your life, rehashing the worst day of my meager existence, to date, and I’ve lost an airplane out from under me. That night, the airplane thing, was a piece of cake compared to the day I walked in on them.”

“Well, it’s good to talk about things sometimes. And now I know why you’re so nervous. Don’t be. I’m not that kind of girl, at least I don’t think so. God, I hope I’m not. Talk about a failure to be a decent human being! In any case, it’s just us, and dinner, and good conversation, hopefully at least, now that that part of it is out of the way. So, Charlie, I take it you’re an airplane pilot?”

“You are a very astute young woman, Debbie. Cute and astute. That rhymes. For you to pick up on that, out of that conversation, or should I say the diatribe I regurgitated, proves you know what a pilot, and as well, what an airplane is.”

She giggled and nodded. “My father was in the Air Force, Charlie. I’ve seen lots and lots of airplanes, and more than one pilot. He was a cop. Security. Whatever. He retired a few years ago and last year found some property and moved to the rolling hills of the Ozark Mountains. I stayed. I like it here. I’m taking classes part time.”

“So, you’re a brat.”

“I resemble that remark, Charlie!” She giggled. “Come. Feed me. You told me you would. At least that’s what I thought I heard.” She giggled. We pulled up into the Olive Garden parking lot and went inside. They were a bit busy but there were tables open in the bar area, so we asked for one of those.

Two hours later, still at that table, talking over a tiramisu, I had a funny feeling that Debbie was going to be around for a while. She seemed just as interested in my life as I was in hers, and we seemed to fit. Fit? Yeah, that would be a good word in this case. I felt that we fit together.

One thing she stressed was her schedule. It was rather tough. Tuesday through Thursday she had evening classes. She was off on Sundays and Mondays from the store. She was a full-time employee working straight day shifts unless some drastic problem happened with scheduling, but they never, ever, asked her to work on her school nights. Management, she said, was pro education, even providing a bit of scholarship money, helping her father with her tuition and such.

Interesting life. It was Friday night. She was working the next day.

“Debbie, would you take me to a movie tomorrow night? I’ll pay, I just want you to pick the movie, then we’ll grab a snack somewhere and talk about the cinematic arts.”

She giggled. “Sure. I’ll find something. Anything you don’t like?”

“Horror and gratuitous blood and guts. Gratuitous sex gets old after a while, too, but I can tolerate a small amount for a short while.”

Another giggle. “Define gratuitous.” I scowled at her, then smiled. “OK, so, no King and no Tarantino. Got it. I’ll take care of it.”

I drove us to her apartment, just across the street from the store. Nice little complex. I walked her to the door, she opened it, and kissed me. One hand on my cheek, soft lips on mine, just a nice kiss.

“Thank you, Charlie. I had a good time tonight, and I’m looking forward to the movie, and whatever else we do, tomorrow. Please don’t be nervous. I’m not someone you should be nervous about, and as a matter of fact, it should be me that’s nervous. I’m young, inexperienced, and question my value to a man such as yourself. You are not young, you are not inexperienced, and you are both handsome and gainfully employed. If you didn’t know, those are the primary qualities a woman seeks in a man. Girls, too, in case you’re wondering.” She giggled.

She touched my face again as I smiled at her mirth. “Just to make myself clear, before I kiss you again, push you away from me, and go inside, Charlie, you’re a hunk.” She giggled again, kissed me, put her hand on my chest in some sort of caress, and stepped back into what appeared to be a really cute little studio apartment. She smiled at me as the door closed and the deadbolt locked.

“Wow,” I said to anyone listening, and there was no one, “a freaking beauty queen eligible girl just called me a hunk.” I drove back to my place, thinking how nice my life was all of a sudden.

I picked her up at five, out on the sidewalk, cute as could be. She asked me to take her over across the street and said she’d be just a second. I waited in the car as she ran up the stairs and went inside. It was many, many seconds, but not many minutes later when she came back down, in a cute T-top, cuffed short shorts, and high heeled sandals. Her legs were something else. I jumped out and went to the other side to let her back in.

“Jeez, Debbie. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful in your work clothes. In this outfit you’re… You’re just totally gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Charlie. I’m glad you like it. Ready?” I nodded as she got in, then I went around to the other side and as I sat, she continued. “The Citadel has a couple of good ones playing starting in about half an hour. Thank you for this, by the way.”

“My pleasure. Honestly, it is truly my pleasure.”

“I have to say, Charlie, this is about the least practical car I’ve ever seen anyone own. What is it?”

“It’s called a Cayman. It’s a cheap Porsche. I treated myself to it when I knew I’d be single for a while. I love it, but you’re right. It’s not practical. I didn’t buy it for practicality, however. I have a truck for that. We’ll use it if I can talk you into a third date.”

“Warm it up, hunk. I’m not done with you yet, if you aren’t done with me.”

“The truck it is!”

“I like this, though, don’t get me wrong. It’s fun and comfortable, and I can tell you enjoy driving it.”

“That, my dear, is a fact.” I took off from a light and ran through the gears, just up to about forty-five, the speed limit, but smiling as I did it. “Yessiree, that is a fact.” She giggled. God, she was cute.

The movie was fun, we had sodas and shared a large bucket of heavily buttered popcorn, then afterwards, we walked the mall. She took my hand just a little way into the walk and looked up at me for approval. She got it as I squeezed her fingers gently and smiled. We stopped in a couple of stores to look around, but I could tell she was window shopping only. She picked a blouse she liked off a rack, held it up to her and with her eyes asked what I thought.

“Beautiful. Simply you, and beautiful. Would you like it? I’d like you to have it.”

“No, that’s all right. It’s nice, but I’m just looking.” I took it from her to hang back up, and noted the size on the label, since she picked it out between other sizes. I would buy her that blouse. Period.

We stopped in at RadioShack where I found some inexpensive Bluetooth headsets. I’d been thinking about trying some anyway, but I needed a bag big enough for my planned purchase. My timing was perfect, because she asked me to excuse her while she went to the ladies’ and as soon as she was around the corner, I headed back in and bought the blouse, placing it, in its little bag, inside my RadioShack bag. I made it back in time so that she didn’t see me doing anything other than gazing in the window. The same store had some lingerie on mannequins in the window, so it was perfectly natural for me, a dirty old man, to be scoping out the nylon and lace. She smiled and took my hand.

We continued our walk, shared some pretzel bites, and made a plan for the next weekend. Dinner and a movie after work on Saturday. She asked about the next day, Sunday, just hours away, and wanted to know if I might like sightseeing in the foothills. She asked if I’d take her up and do just that. Just walk around. She… asked me? Of course, we could!

I took her home, up the stairs, and kissed her goodnight, with her hand on my chest, this time with her fingers moving, no question she was caressing me. Once she was inside, I got my smile on and left.

I picked her up Sunday at noon, in the truck, having to help her up. She was not a big girl, at all. She used the handhold, though, and was fine. We headed for the foothills and all the tourist traps, having a really good time. We ate a late lunch or early dinner at a really nice place there, sharing an appetizer and talking.

“Is it possible, in your mind, Charlie, for someone to become… To feel… Shit… To fall in love in three days?”

“Or less? I did it just yesterday. Don’t, please, Debbie, please don’t take this wrong, but yesterday, you sort of stole my heart when you came downstairs. You were gorgeous. You are gorgeous. I added that to your kindness, your wonderful attitude, the fact that you think my Porsche is a silly toy, and put it all together, with my heart pounding, I pretty much knew. Debbie, I was engaged for months and didn’t feel like this. Yes, I think it’s possible.”

“Good. I thought I was being a silly little girl. If you feel that way, I doubt if it can be attributed to that. Maybe I’m being a silly old man.” She almost didn’t get it all out before she started laughing. I got up, went to her side of the table, leaned down and kissed her. More of Charlie and Debbie in this kiss than the goodnight kisses of the last two evenings. “Yep. I think I’m in love,” she said, smiling.

I took her home, got another really nice kiss, and told her I’d talk to her very soon.

“Please do. Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Office time. Paperwork is the scourge of the modern world.”

She giggled. “Me, too. Final edition of an essay on Gender Fluidity. Women’s studies. We have to take it to graduate, but they call it an elective. I see a problem there, but don’t really know how to handle it. I guess it’s not that bad, just a pain and a form of blackmail, in my eyes. Not the gender thing. That’s interesting. The women’s studies thing. It’s a rip off. They could just write ‘housewives are stupid slaves’ on the chalk board, tell everyone to write a hundred words agreeing with it for credit or disagree with it for a failure, and be done with it.”

“Wow.”

“What kind of paperwork do you do?”

“Plans, schedules, mission reports, performance reports, all kinds of neat stuff. Even safety briefings and reports documenting them. I’ll bet you have those at work. Everyone has safety meetings and reports and all that. A squadron commander’s life is no different than a store manager.”

“Squadron Commander? We never talked about this. My father retired as a Senior Master Sergeant. He was a Superintendent of one of the police things. His last Squadron Commander was a light colonel, if I remember correctly.”

“I’m just a lowly major. I’ll be a ‘light colonel’, as you call them, in a few months. I’ve been promoted, just takes time.”

“What rank was dickhead, the wonder putz?”

“Captain. He’s on his way out, though. His now ex-wife is a drunk, and an embarrassment to him, causing him grief at every turn. No wonder, huh? With a wonderful husband like that! I think she’s screwed everyone that’s ever known him, except me and possibly our wing commander. I don’t think she’d want her. She could do a lot better than… What’d you call him?”

“Dickhead, the wonder putz.”

“Yeah, she could do much better than dickhead, the wonder putz’s violently regressive, demonstratively revengeful ex-wife. Our wing commander is actually a very nice and pretty woman. Good at her job, too, but most wing commanders are. In any case, way out of my league. Point is, mine isn’t the only girl he’s gotten caught stealing. One of the other ones was married. He had, and has, much bigger problems than his old squadron commander.”

“Wow. ‘Days of Our Lives’ on base, huh? I disagree with the ‘out of your league’ thing. I doubt that’ll get any traction in my eyes, but I do remember something about not fishing in the company pond. Better to find a little girl at Safeway and try to woo her and win her with your charms.”

“Oh, jeez, yes. Come on, beautiful. Let’s blow this pop stand. I want to hold your hand some more and walk around showing people the cute little thing that called me a hunk. Twice!”

“I did that, huh?” I nodded. “It’s true, Charlie. I appreciate the way you talk about me, but you aren’t hard to look at, either. Rather handsome, actually. Too tall, if I needed something to bitch about.” She stopped me in the middle of the sidewalk and looked up at me. “But I don’t need that.” I knew what she wanted, so I gave it to her. In the middle of Main Street with everyone and their mothers watching, I took her in my arms, leaned way down, and kissed my girlfriend. She’s at least that and I hope a lot more.

I took her home that night, after stopping at a little mom and pop Mexican place for chips and dip, both of us just sharing some guacamole and a little bean and queso dip instead of having real meals. It was fun and we shared a margarita, to boot. I thought she might be a bit young, but I didn’t tell, and no one asked, so we didn’t wind up in jail.

“Debbie, how old are you? I think it’s time we start sharing secrets.”

“Eighteen. Nineteen in May.”

“I’ll be thirty-four in May. What day?”

“The fifth.”

“You’re pleading the fifth? Over a birthday? I didn’t even ask which year. I asked which day!” Debbie sounds so adorable when she’s laughing or giggling. She was worth my effort, in my mind. Regardless of the cost. “Twenty-second here. Emeralds. I’m thinking emeralds.”

“You would. I’m thinking you aren’t rich if you’re in the Air Force and you don’t need to be buying me things like that.”

I was putting her up in the truck and reached back through the little space to the back behind her seat. I brought out a very small flat white paper sack. “This is for you, and I’ll buy you what I want until you get mad, then I’ll stop for a while. Just for a while, though. We’ve told each other we’ve had the ‘I think I’m in love’ moment, so… This is what happens when you have a real boyfriend, one that is pretty sure he’s in love with you.” She opened the package and removed the blouse, and with it still in one hand, wrapped her arms around me and hugged my neck.

“Thank you. You knew. Even if I lied, you knew.” Her tears and her smile let me know where she was coming from.

“It wasn’t a lie. You misrepresented facts to protect us both. Failing miserably, I might add, but I’m not your average boyfriend. Debbie, please don’t worry about the money. I’m going to tell you something just so you’ll stop worrying. Please don’t take this wrong and I’m not saying it to brag or show off. I just want you to know. I paid cash for the little toy you think is so impractical. It is impractical, but I like it. I bought it to make me happy. Not to show off, not to impress anyone. I did it because it’s fun. The Air Force is not my only income. I joined it, and stay in it because I like to fly, and I feel I have a purpose here. I don’t need it. I want it. Therefore, I do it. I think they benefit, too, so it’s all good.”

That was a preview of There Was This Girl: A Collection. To read the rest purchase the book.

Add «There Was This Girl: A Collection» to Cart