Missed

She perched on the high iron stool at a bistro table checking her watch for the third time in five minutes. Her fingers worried the petals of the pink flower as she turned it over and over unaware of the velvet texture. Her penchant for correctness compelled her to arrive exactly five minutes early. As she entered the brick alley she noticed a small shrub of ball-like blooms in shades of pink and palest blue. Uncharacteristically plucking one of the pink balls from a stem she carried it with her to the table to wait.

He’d said he be there at precisely 7 pm...right here in this very public garden in the middle of town. She’d even specified which table she’d be sitting at. Her face blushed pink as she told him over the phone, "I’ll be waiting at the table just after the blue painted ’57 Chevy and next to the bare-chested man holding the leash of his dog."

He couldn’t possibly miss the designated meeting place. There were only three alleys lined with paintings, plantings, and places to sit, each one a small oasis hovering between buildings in the small town.

When she first arrived, she quickly opened her purse, took out the small compact checking for feathering lipstick or smeared mascara, but everything looked good...well good enough or as good as it’s going to get, she thought. She’d painted her toes and fingernails a rosy pink that matched the lipstick, put on a simple sundress, grabbed a light cardigan sweater, just in case the summer evening turned cool, and headed out the door her heart thumping beneath a flat chest. Trying to orchestrate how he would first see her, she crossed her left leg over the right and then switched. She smoothed her skirt down, fussed with her hair, and waited.
As she sat alone, time moved at the pace of the snail she watched sliding across the cool bricks to the other side of the alley. Fifteen minutes after her arrival, she picked up the flower again. Her fingers pulled tiny flowers from the head as she stared at the arched back entry anticipating his arrival any moment now.

I wish I’d stopped and got a drink, she thought as her mouth dried from anxiety doubled with annoyance. He’d promised to pick up a latte for her on his way to the meeting, but of course, he’s not here.

"How long should I wait? He’s not coming. I just knew he wouldn’t," she whispered as she strangled the ball of blossoms crushing the remaining tender flowers in her tight fist.

At exactly 7:25 she scooted off the stool, tossed what was left of the hydrangea on the table and walked through the arch to her car.

Five minutes later, right on time, a tall, thin man wearing black-rimmed, coke-bottle thick glasses approached the bistro table just after the ’57 Chevy, but before the bare-chested man holding his dog’s leash. From his pocket, he took out a piece of paper scribbled with directions...Meet at 7:30 on Saturday. The only thing waiting for him was a pile of pink bruised flower petals lying on the table. He stood contemplating what to do for the next few ticks of the clock while he rolled a floret in his fingers. He dropped the tiny pink ball he’d formed and walked away sipping a latte.

The Times They Are A Changin'

This is it, folks. This is my last day of exquisite freedom and I plan to eat tuna sandwiches for lunch while watching the insanity of Bravo dwellers. Yes I tune in, without shame, to psychotic Housewives and chefs creating dishes I don’t think the cats would even sniff. What’s worse is my newfound rubbernecking at MTV shows like The City, but I digress and I’m wasting time.

No, I’m not heading for vacation on a secluded island in some exotic location. No, I’m not going to jail. And thankfully, my computer glitches and problems have been solved. Nope…the end to my freedom comes at the grimy hands of “zee leetle devil” (That’s a story I really need to tell). Thursday is the last day of school.



“So what?” You ask. “You have one more day of silver silence.”

“No I don’t! Tomorrow is another day of digging up the side yard in an attempt to grow veggies. That means, two of my brothers armed with a rototiller, shovels, and beer show up to do the grunt work while I run to McDonald’s for Happy Meals. So this is it, my precious hours of alone time to write, blog, and do whatever I want are spent and gone.

The invasion begins *long bosom heaving sigh* and I have no choice but to leap into Mimi mode. That means I become grandmother/nanny for the next three months. I’m looking forward to the neighbor kid crawling under my bed searching for a cat to thrust his plastic laser into. I can’t wait until the fighting over Bravo or Cartoon Network begins. I’m eager to start pleading and bribing zee leetle devil into washing his hands before lunch, picking up the mountain of toys that traveled from bedroom to living room, and roasting like a chicken in the sun while he swims in his inflatable pool. Summer is here and the times they are a changin’, much to my chagrin.

You all know me…I’m the softtiest lady around and when it comes to the little man in my life he can ALMOST do no wrong. I’m looking forward to sharing summer fun with the little urchin, but man I’m going to miss my alone time lunching with tuna and Bravo