Slow Burn
Date: 22.02.2010Keywords: Burn, Slow,
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"The following fictional story is a slow burn. Like passions, the smoke is a signal that a fire that will ignite eventually, but not until the conditions are right. This is your story if you like a "slow burn" and we all know that everything good is worth waiting for. Enjoy. It's only the beginning of a series from "stormyknight".
All characters are over 18. "
10:30 on a Monday morning. I was getting my business week started. The phone rang, and I expected a typical business call. I work at home, so for those who do likewise, I am accustomed to the 'mental shifting of gears' around the house when the phone rings during the 8-5 period.
I picked up the receiver and announced myself expecting the usual reply, but heard only the sharp intake of breath. I spoke my name again, and heard a tentative, almost questioning "Hello..." then click.
"It was probably a wrong number," I thought to myself, and then resumed work at the desk. I checked the Caller ID which read "blocked" and ignored the call.
I was busily typing away at the computer again when my thoughts were interrupted when several minutes later, the phone rang again.
"Another 'Blocked' call. Oh, you again," I thought. I picked up the receiver and announced myself this time personally, hoping to keep the mystery caller on the line. But, nothing. I held the receiver without speaking, baiting the caller to speak.
It worked. The same tentative female voice said "Hi..." then paused.
Mondays are not the time to play around. I had a full week ahead of me and wanted to get down to business. But my intriguing mystery caller was getting the best of me.
I responded with a curious but inviting "Hi, this is Jay," and again waited.
"Hi Jay. Do you know who this is?"
I really wasn't expecting a mysterious call like this, and the voice didn't immediately connect to a face. But, it sounded so familiar.
"Not really. How about a hint," I played along hoping to buy some time when she answered.
"It's Mandy, I 'm back in town." A much unexpected reply.
Mandy was Julie's daughter, my step-daughter. Mandy went away unexpectedly. She had a falling out with her mother during the summer following high school and moved about five years ago. Our long held plan was to have her attend the local university. Before then, Mandy and I were close and always got along fine. She would turn to me before as a confidante during the previous encounters with her mom.
We had a close father-daughter relationship. Over the ten years we had together, I was aware that she often depended on me to be the steady one in her life. But one day, she really got into it with her mother and moved out in a fit of anger and frustration, without as much as a goodbye.
She couldn't get far enough away from her mom, and didn't let us know where she was living. Still, trouble at home continued.
Julie and I got divorced about a year later, and she died shortly thereafter, drunk behind the wheel of her car. I always thought, "What a waste of a promising life. Finally, she was at peace with her troubled mind."
I loved Julie, and after this heartbreak, never married again. So, needless to say, I lost track of Mandy...until today.
My thoughts returning to the present, "Are you okay?" I asked, dreading that she was hurt or in trouble.
"No, I'm okay. But I've been thinking of what a jerk I was to you, by leaving and not keeping in touch. I missed you."
I replied, "I missed you too, but had no idea where you were, and how you were doing. Where are you now? Oh, sorry. Too many questions, too fast."
Mandy began to cry softly and said, "Can I see you? I was such a fool. I made such a mess and have so much to undo."
I just let her keep taking, relating the guilt of her departure, death of her mother and the general chain of events over the past five years. We spoke for nearly an hour, and then arranged to meet for lunch at a small cafe near her hotel, which was only a short drive from where I live.
Two hours later I pulled into a parking space at the cafe, took a deep breath to try and calm my swirling emotions. I sat there for a moment, looked around and then saw her at a table outside in the shade of an umbrella.
She was seated and still, holding her drink inches away from her lips, obviously lost in thought.
The closing of my car door did not interrupt her deep and heavy thoughts. It had been years since seeing her, but I knew how emotions played on her face, and could tell this was hard for her to handle.
I walked towards the table and was only a few feet away when the movement caught her attention.
She looked at me briefly, and without speaking lowered her swollen red eyes, setting the cup on the table. Tears fell as she buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders bounced with the soft sobbing of overwhelming sorrow. I suppose it was just the flood of all those emotions stored up for the past five years.
My thoughts raced, "God, it had been so long since I'd seen her and I really didn't know what to say, or what was on her mind." As I neared, she stayed seated but raised up her head, wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her tear-streaked face into my shirt.
I stood there, cradling her head against my stomach and just let her cry it out. My hand stroked her hair as the sobbing lowered to a whimper, then slowed to an occasional sniffle.
I pulled the nearby chair closer to her, turned it her direction and sat knee to knee with both of her hands in mine, her face lowered again. We sat there for a couple of minutes, still neither of us speaking as I allowed her to fully gain her composure.
I offered a napkin from the table to dab at the remaining tears. Finally, after a deep single sigh, she raised her face and whispered "Thank you."
I looked at her and saw a small smile begin to draw across her lips, and smiled back, nodding acknowledgement.
I interrupted the silence, "You had me worried there for a minute."
She forced a smile again and said "Yeah, a lot has happened."
I listened as she told the details of the argument with the mother, her moving away and the experiences of life alone over the past five years.
At 23, she was still cute and vibrant in a youthful way, but had also taken on a womanly beauty. She still had the long glowing amber hair. Her features were more defined and some of the girlish roundness was gone. But there was no doubt that she was becoming a beautiful young woman.
As we sat and talked, I looked at her. Now lost in my own thoughts, and realized that something had been missing for the past five years. I enjoyed our relationship before. Somehow. I had closed off the hurt of missing her. Seeing her again now made me realize after all these years, that she had been an integral part of my life.
Mandy interrupted my thoughts "Jay, can we do this again sometime?"
"Um, sure...how long will you be here?" I asked.
"I am 'home' now. It's time stop running and settle down." She was now fully composed and spoke purposefully about her desire to get her life back together.
I could tell that she had been thinking about those words for some time and had made a deep commitment to fulfilling them.
It was a good visit, healing for both of us. We talked about old family friends and good times in the past during lunch, trying to keep it light after the earlier pouring out of emotion. But, both of us could tell something painful was just below the surface.
After lunch, we agreed to meet for coffee on Wednesday. Until then, Mandy would be busy looking for work, and finding a place to stay. She had some friends from before that still lived in town, and hoped to find one willing to share an apartment. We hugged and I walked her back to the hotel across the street. She hugged me again as we said our goodbye in the lobby.
"What an unexpected and pleasant surprise," I thought.I replayed the events of the last two hours over in my mind during the walk to my car.
Mid-way home, my mind and car took a detour through the old neighborhood. I stopped in front to the old house, misty eyed for a moment. After Julie died, I sold the house, moved across town to a three bedroom condo. I didn't need all the yard and extra space of a house, not to mention the haunting memories.
I really loved Julie and had many good memories. Julie was a talented artist and passionate lover at times. It's just that the shortly before Mandy left, and into the following year, Julie kinda lost it. She wouldn't listen to my pleas and those of our family and close friends.
Again I recalled, "What a waste of a potentially good life when someone ignores help and throws it all away."
Although I moved, I kept in close contact with my family and friends during my mourning process of the next year or so.
Friends would regularly invite me over for dinners and gatherings, hoping some single female there would pique my interest. But to no avail. Although our frequent and enjoyable visits continued, they accepted my decision graciously, recognizing that I had come to terms with life, and was content.
At the office, my personal assistant and business associates were a great source of support and encouragement. I was financially secure and cut down my case load to half during this time, allowing me to work from home with necessary trips to the office for monthly meetings.
They allowed me to work from home only on the condition that I would return to the office space if I started to withdraw. I had regular contact by telephone and e-mail, not to mention our passing conversations daily at the health club. Plus, there were frequent business dinners and golf trips with clients.
They could tell I was doing fine. What was more interesting, is that I had a surge of creativity during this period. Call it focus or just re-channeling that extra energy, but either way, my working at home turned out to be a successful and permanent condition.
I enjoyed decorating my condo and have decent taste, so as you might have guessed by now, it's far from a bachelor pad.
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Keywords: Burn, Slow,