Dating : Arrival

A crisp, chill wind seeps through my layers of clothing, reaching my inner core, causing a shiver down my spine. I secure my scarf around my neck and pull my hood over my head. I see the snow piles from last week’s storm shoveled into every corner in the station’s nooks. It will take weeks for this snow to melt. I glance down at my boots, stained with salt and slush from the short walk I take from my car to the station platform. A white plague is upon us again, threatening the existence of its inhabitants on the North East. Storm after storm, a pounding of snow, wind, and gust moves through, over and over. We prepare, we endure, we survive.

My phone vibrates with a text from Mami.

Mami: Mija. Why haven’t you returned my calls? I would like to know how my only daughter is doing. Llama me, por favor.

Sure Ma, I’ll get right on that. But instead of writing what I really want to say I write-

Hi Mami, I’ve had a hell of a weekend and already want this week over. I will call you later. And no, I don’t wanna talk about it. Te hablo despues.

Mami: Mi niña, don’t tell me it’s a girl. I don’t want to hear any of that.

Wasn’t going to bring it up anyway. Talk later.

I slip my phone back in my front pocket. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind, now I have to deal with rejection from my own blood. My weekend, filled with hurt and disappointment, was enough for me to unplug and escape from the world, especially from my mother.

Elena, the woman I met online and had been corresponding with for the past few months and was starting to like, stood me up night before last for our first in-person date. The last thing I wanted to do was speak to my unsupportive, don’t-ask-don’t-tell parent. So, no Mami, I’m not calling you back.

The sound of the horn echoes into my thoughts, jolting me awake from my morning daze. 5:59am

I inhale an icy breath of air in my lungs. The train pulls up and jerks to a complete stop. The doors open and a blast of heat lures me inside. Tommy the ticket collector is in his normal stance. I give Tommy a nod and walk to my usual seat. I slump into a three-seater, rip the scarf off my neck, and toss my bag aside.

Kathy, the heart of gold, a middle-aged business woman, staggers her way to the seat in front of me.

“Mari! My dear, how are you on this fine morning?” Says Kathy as she sheds her coat and sweater. Beads of sweat form on her face. Kathy is the only woman I know who can sweat in the middle of winter.

“Morning Kathy. I’m doing alright, thank you. And yourself? This weekend was everything you dreamed of; I hope?” I give Kathy a tissue to wipe her face.

I met Kathy a few years back when I started taking the earlier train into the city. On the surface, Kathy seems like a hard ass. But getting to know her over the years has proven she is the most gifted and compassionate person I could ever have the pleasure of knowing. And she is like a mother to me.

“Oh, bless your heart dear. This weekend was splendid! David delivered and our anniversary dinner melted my heart! Say, I remember you mentioning last week that you had a date. How did that go?”

“Sadly, the woman never showed. I was stood up. But I don’t really care. This proves my theory even further. I’m just not destined for this shit. It’s whatever. If I find a girl, then great; if I don’t find a girl, then great.” I shrug my shoulders and wink.

My cussing always makes Kathy cringe. She is a devout Catholic and I love her even more because of it.

“Mari, love, it’s too early for cuss words. But I understand. Listen, if this woman stood you up, it only means God didn’t intend her for you. Chin up, kid. Your time is coming,” says Kathy with a sincere grin.

“Thank you. You’ll be the first to know. And you’ll walk me down the aisle.”

Kathy smiles and nods.

I sit back and pull out my favorite Shakespeare play. It’s taken longer than usual to read lately. My mind wanders, focused on the things that have slipped through the cracks- all the disappointment and missed opportunities. The break-ups and the never-even-had-a-chances. I chose this book in hopes that a romance would spark my inner flame.

Just as I begin reading, Olivia and Keila, the double mint twins, enter the train. I despise their sound and presence. The sight of them brings a vile taste to my mouth. The twins started taking our train about a year ago. And from day one, the contempt in my soul for these women grow. Their silver spoons, though invisible, shines brightly with every word that drips out of their mouths.

My eyes roll as they glance at me and smile. They choose the two-seater across from my row. They know better than to sit next to me. I have them both well trained.

“Good morning, Marisol,” says the twins in unison.

“Morning girls,” I say.

Their matching blue pinstripe suits are wrinkle free. And they have their corporate I.D badges adorned around their necks. How they love to prance around and flaunt their jobs.

“How’s work been Mari? I bet those animals missed you all weekend,” says Olivia as she whispers something to Keila. Both girls turn and giggle.

According to the double mint twins, my line of work is beneath theirs. They are corporate women and have a huge sticks up their asses. And since Vet Techs aren’t registered, nor are they upheld in high regard, or even given credit for the work they do, I too have no credibility. They once asked me what skills I possess, that they could get me a worthy low-level job. And at least I could have something better. I told them to choke on their tongues. They have never asked since.

“Work is fine girls. If you’ll excuse me. I’m in the middle of something here.”

Cabronas.

Screw them. And anyone else who doesn’t have respect for what I do or who I am.

“Don’t mind them, dear. They weren’t raised with manners. You’re a better soul anyway,” says Kathy as she leans over from the row in front.

A weak smile forms on my face. More and more people shuffle their way into the seats on the train. I stare back at my book, reading, rereading, trying to make sense of the passages, of its meaning. With each passing stop, the train slows. We pull into Bridgeport station, doors open, and the train stalls.

6:13am.

The frigid air blows in with a vengeance, causing most people to grunt and ask Tommy what is happening.

“People, all I know is that there’s a rail condition a few stops ahead of our train. As soon as I know something, you will too,” says Tommy, disdain in his voice. The poor guy.

All of a sudden, right before the doors close shut, a woman runs in; the frazzle look on her face catches Tommy’s attention.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” I have seen that twinkle in Tommy’s eyes before. He’s smitten by her.

“Fine, thank you,” she says as she walks briskly down the aisle.

I sit up to get a better look. I have never laid eyes on this woman before and yet I feel a yearning, a wanting, a drive I haven’t felt in quite some time. She is familiar, maybe a soul I’ve encountered in a past life; who knows. And I instantly want to know her.

She slows down as she walks closer to my row. She hasn’t noticed me yet. But I can’t take my eyes off of her. Who is this woman?

She must sense my gaze. As she looks my way, at this exact moment, I ask myself what the hell is going on. Her eyes lock with mine. Everything stops. I no longer feel the train moving beneath me. She stops too, only for a moment. Our eyes still locked together. She continues down the aisle and sits in my row. She smiles as she removes her belongings and places them in the space that separates us. For the first time ever, I wish I was sitting closer to someone- to her.

“Hi,” she says as she settles herself into the seat.

“Hey,” I say, frozen in fear.

She pulls out a tethered leather journal and places it next to her. She rummages in her bag for something. I stare at her as she starts to spill the contents of her bag. She must still be a little frazzled.

“Did you lose something?” I ask.

“Oh, no! I’m just looking for my phone and a pen. This purse is so big; I can never find anything,” she says with a smile.

My knees tingle as the smirk on her face forms. She is by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And trust me, I look at women. Her dark, almost black hair lays on her shoulders, not exactly frizzy but not straight either. Her skin tone is a few shades darker than mine and very smooth. Her eyes, piercing and fierce, rest on my eyes again, so dark yet soft.

“Hi, again,” she says with a laugh.

I am staring too harshly. I quickly look down and fiddle with my book, hands shaking. As I breath in, I notice a very light but powerful fragrance. I can’t quite identify what it is exactly, but it lures me closer; the smell is intoxicating.

“I’m Mari. It’s nice to meet you,” I manage to say without my voice cracking.

“I’m Evelynn, but please call me Lynn,” she says while adjusting her hair into a ponytail.

“You write?” I ask, pointing at the journal next to her.

“I do, mostly poetry,” she smiles again and pulls the book closer to her.

Holy shit, I think I love this woman.

The train slows to a complete stop. We are idle, waiting for an announcement from the conductor.

6:24am.

This doesn’t happen to me. Fate and soulmates and all that other destiny bullshit isn’t in my jargon or thought process. For all I know, she’s a straight woman who is just really polite. But, my God, she’s beautiful.

“I’ve read Romeo and Juliet. Not my cup of tea,” she says lightheartedly, shrugging as she opens her journal.

“Um… well I’m reading it for the third time,” I say as I turn to her, unsure of how to respond.

She is captivating. The more I look at her, the more my stomach flips with nerves, with excitement.

I look away quickly, remembering that love has never really worked for me.

“I’ve never seen you on this train before,” I say.

“I usually take a later train. But I got promoted to senior editor. So, I figured I’ll get an early start,” Lynn says and laughs.

I like her laugh.

She opens her journal and her ticket falls out, fluttering to the floor. We bend down to reach for the ticket and our fingers touch gracefully. We look up. Our eyes meet again. And this time we allow our gaze to linger for a moment longer.

“Oh,” Lynn says.

Her head tilts ever so slightly. She retreats to her side, me to my corner. Our touch- electrical, abrupt, urgent- leaves me wanting more.

“Tickets, ladies,” says Tommy as he glances between us. He peers over at me, slightly nodding in Lynn’s direction.

“I’m Tommy. I haven’t seen you on this train before,” he says, punching a hole in Lynn’s ticket. He loiters and holds on to her ticket tightly, inviting play, stalling.

“Right. Well here I am.” Lynn snatches her ticket and slips it back in her journal. She crosses her legs, shifts her body and attention towards me.

“Okay, whatever. Mari, good to see you.” Tommy continues walking, collecting.

“What’s his problem?” asks Lynn.

“He often falls in like too quickly when he sees a beautiful woman,” I say. My breath, caught in my throat, causes me to cough. I’ve managed to flirt and compliment all in one.

“I see. Thank you. You’re sweet. But he isn’t my type,” she says.

Maybe I’m your type?

6:33am.

The train begins to move again, trudging forward and picking up speed. Time can go by rather quickly on the train when it’s moving fast. Whatever it is I’m attempting to do; I must post haste.

“Lynn, I was wonderi-”

“Is there a bathroom in this cart?” asks Lynn as she rises and looks around.

“Yeah its straight ahead and to the right. Look up for the sign,” I say.

Lynn moves quickly ahead, not looking back.

“Well that was a failure! Tell her you’re a fake nurse. Maybe that will get her attention,” snicker the twins.

“Shit. You two really are something. Mind your business, estupidas,” I say and flip both middle fingers in their direction.

“C’mon Marisol. You think a woman like her would want to get to know a woman like you? Tell her you pick up dog shit for a living and I’d bet that she would lose interest quickly,” says Olivia.

“Ha! And I bet she’d change her seat too,” snickers Keila, high-fiving her twin in agreement.

“Watch me, assholes,” I say as I glare at the twins with contempt.

“Ladies, enough. Leave Mari alone. And enough with the evil twins bit. Keep to yourselves.” Kathy leans over with a concerned look on her face.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? I’m sure this woman-”

“The doublemint twins can take a walk on the tracks for all I care. Kathy, it’s fine. I got this,” I say, interrupting Kathy.

I shove my book back in my bag. It’s difficult enough trying to put yourself out there. The last thing I need is the peanut gallery chiming in.

6:40am.

I pull out my notebook and start writing furiously. Anything to keep me distracted. I’ve wanted a connection with someone for so long. And I have found one. Strong. Hungry. Curious. Is it worth it?

Lynn sits down and faces me. She’s definitely a people person.

6:51am

“What have I missed,” asks Lynn.

“Mari here was just about to tell you who she is- a cat wrangler at the local circus,” exclaim the twins as they burst out in laughter. Some of the other patrons chuckle.

“Ignore the double mint twins. They are miserable women. And have ugly souls too,” I say.

“You’re funny. And no, I have no interest in what they have to say. I’m only interested in you,” Lynn states.

I nod slightly, wanting to respond, wanting to say something witty. But only air escapes my lungs.

“Did I say something wrong,” asks Lynn.

“No, no you didn’t. I just…I’m not sure what to say,” I say, struggling to get my words out. I can save the life of an animal, but I can’t hold a conversation. Great.

Lynn turns to her journal and writes a few words then stops. She mumbles a bit to herself and continues writing, almost as if she’s inviting me to ask her, to stop her. What do I say? How do I articulate this magnetic pull I feel deep from within?

I glance out of the window, the sun finally gracing Earth with Her presence. The hue of subtle color emerges, leafless branches, still covered in snow, now visible with light. The world was waking, apprehensive and timid. There is beauty everywhere if you’re willing to look.

My eyes drift, slowly closing, fighting sleep.

7:16am.

A tap on my shoulder revives me.

“Sorry, but I was wondering if you could read this. Tell me what you think?” Lynn asks.

“Don’t be sorry. I would love to,” I say, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, grabbing her journal. She rests her hand on mine for a moment. Her eyes pierce through my soul, digging deep into the recesses of my heart. In this moment I know that what I am feeling is reciprocating with her. This wasn’t an accident.

And here we are, inching closer to

The place where we must part ways.

The sun rises slowly still, breaking through

The dark that ensued the night before I met you.

Is this meant to be? Two souls unifying

On this crowded train to Emerald City.

My journey has been bleak, filled with regret

As I have been weak, failing in love and despair.

Wherever we go, my dear, do not leave

Me here with agony and fear and doubt.

We will ride this chariot together, hand in hand

Embracing what fate has given to us in motion.

7:22am

I read her words- elegant and finite. A description of our ride. I know it; I feel it. Raw and expressive, deeply rooted. She has a gift. And I am grateful she has chosen to share her words with me. I am encouraged, motivated.

“I’m flabbergasted. I haven’t read poetry like this in quite some time. How long have you been working on this?” I ask, passing the journal back to her, grazing her hand again.

“Since my train ride began. I feel inspired,” Lynn says. She stopped herself, her mouth slightly ajar.

“You ever had that feeling? That serendipitous moment that you can’t quite explain… but it feels…right?” She looks down, pensively.

“I definitely know that feeling. Kind of going through that as we speak,” I say without hesitation.

The overhead speaker crackles as the conductor’s voice reverberates through the train car. Grand Central, next stop.

7:39am.

Jesus H Christ. Our ride is almost over. I want more time. More time to discuss her poems, to stare into her eyes. More time to talk about our dreams, our likes, dislikes. More time to get to know her. More time.

The train descends into the tunnels that web underneath the city, an intricate labyrinth, leading patrons to a grand metropolis. With each slight turn, we inch closer to our track, soon to let out a swarm of people that will pool onto the platform and usher out into a million directions. With the blink of an eye people will begin to blend in, tailored suits and dresswear, triple and quadrupole file, running to their places to be. If I don’t act quickly, she too will blend in, forever lost in a sea of faces.

7:41am.

“Where are you headed?” I ask.

“Not far from here, First Avenue,” Lynn says, collecting herself, beginning to dress her layers for warmth.

“I walk in that direction. We can walk together,” I say as a statement instead of a question.

“That would be nice.” Lynn offers me a stick of gum. This time I touch her hand, holding it there, confirming what I’ve known since the beginning of the ride.

“Yes, it would,” I say.

We step out of the train together. Unsure of where to go, Lynn looks to me and waits. I hold out my elbow, butterflies dancing in my gut, waiting for her arm. She looks to the side and blushes, takes my arm, and follows.

We make it out of Grand Central alive and unscathed- which is a triumph- into street level chaos. Weaving through the crowd, I guide us towards First Avenue, wishing time could slow down, looking for any reason to make this moment last. The longer we walk, the larger the crowds are, spilling onto the streets from the buildings, subways, busses, cabs, carpools, and bikes.

Suddenly, hope shines down in the form of a blinking Hot Coffee sign of a mom-and-pop café.

“It’s early for me. I don’t have to go into work for a bit. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” I ask, shaking where I stand.

“I would love a cup of coffee,” Lynn says, opening the door to the café. She grabs my hand as we walk in together.