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First as Friends



As some of you know, I've been working on a shorty story collection of love stories. A few have been published here and, well, here's another. Someday, maybe the whole book will come out!


First as Friends 


    Amelia -- 'Amy' to her friends -- wasn't sure if her presence and comments at the town hall would actually prove useful, but she thought of going and speaking as at least one way to quell some nervous energy. You see, Amy owned a bakery along Wayfare Rd., which ran through a large portion of the town where she resided, in one of those cozy hamlets of New England. She owned a bakery, and was in danger of losing it. The town board, in all their wisdom, considered the portion of Wayfare Rd. where her business was located to be in need of sprucing up, and was considering hiring a contractor to raze three blocks of it to the ground, all in the name of redevelopment. Amy was both livid and heartbroken, but wasn't of what all she could do.

    Looking around the perfunctory meeting room, Amy saw Mark Pearson standing toward the back. She knew him, of course. He owned a sporting gear shop two doors down from her bakery. He was dressed in his usual ballcap and red jacket, looking every bit the part of a high school gym teacher. The lack of a whistle dangling from his neck seemed almost out-of-place in its absence. She saw that he was talking with someone standing next to him. Pearson's conversational partner was a younger man, probably somewhere in his thirties, at least 6' tall, with dark brown hair. He was dressed in business casual attire. His presence was duly noted, Amy thought to herself.

    The meeting was long -- over two hours -- and it was, at times, emotional. Several of the potentially-impacted shop owners got up and spoke against the redevelopment. Many of them had spent decades owning their businesses, and all the time along those three blocks of Wayfare Rd. Now they were in jeopardy. Accusations were made by several speakers that members of the town board must be "on the take," an argument that was sure to win over the decision makers. It was within that morass of tension-filled dialogue that Amy decided to speak at the public lectern. Her diminutive frame, complete with dark green frock that contrasted strikingly with her red hair, stood out as she delivered her remarks, calmly yet pointedly, to the town board. She offered no threats, only her disappointment in the way events had unfolded.

    The town board adjourned the meeting without making a decision, kicking the can down the road for another two weeks. Releasing a small sigh of disappointment as she stood and prepared to depart the meeting hall, Amy was startled as she felt a hand gently touch her shoulder.

    "I thought you were really good up there," said the brown-haired friend of Mark Pearson. Amy hadn't expected to ever speak with the man she'd noticed earlier but, after her brain caught up with things, she found that she didn't mind.

    "Thank you," she mustered the energy to say. The evening had exhausted her, and she really just wanted to get home. But, talking with the man in front of her was a good enough reason to delay her departure.

    "My name's Jared, by the way." He held out his hand for a formal introduction. Amy shook it, letting him know her name in the process. He smiled, as though he approved of the identifier her parents had provided upon birth.

    The two continued their conversation for another five minutes or so. Amy talked about how she'd moved to town fourteen years prior, to attend the small, private college located nearby, and how she'd earned a Computer Science degree, but upon graduation had decided to pursue a different interest, and opened a bakery along Wayfare Rd. Jared, in turn, talked about how he'd grown up in the village, and that he'd moved to NYC and worked at a law firm there for a few years, but was taking some personal time to come back and look after his father. His dad wasn't in very good health, and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable occurred. Mark Pearson and Jared's father had been lifelong friends, with Pearson almost being like a second father, so Jared felt an obligation to attend the town hall with him, both as a stand-in for his dad, and to show support for someone he'd known all his life.

    Amy was impressed by Jared's devotion to the people he loved, and would have made a play to somehow get his phone number but, with her own future uncertain, given the redevelopment situation, she decided not to bother. When Jared, however, offered her his phone number, so they could "talk strategy" about how to proceed regarding the redevelopment, Amy said yes barely a second after the words had left Jared's lips. He'd smiled, and verbally gave her his number, so she could enter it into her contacts.

    "Call me sometime," said Jared, smiling as he left the meeting hall with Mr. Pearson.


*


    Amy waited two days before calling her new friend. She wondered if he was trying to come across as nonchalantly as she was during the call. Yeah, sure, let's meet up to discuss our next moves regarding the redevelopment, was how things basically went. The meet up was at Amy's favorite coffee shop which, during their three hour conversation, Jared complimented, and she took it as a sort-of personal compliment on her taste in establishments. The more they conversed, the more at ease she was, and it was a sensation she hadn't often felt during her 32 years.

    Jared found Amy easy to talk with. She was a good listener, but also knew when to interrupt with a thoughtful point to make, or just with a follow-up question to something he'd said. He also found himself quite enjoying listening to her talk -- about her life, her hobbies, her cat named Perkins, her bakery, etc. She was, Jared mused, an almost complete 180 from his recent ex, Andrea. She had been a blond-haired, buxom, bubbly woman who, while totally amenable as a human being, was also effervescent to the point of obnoxiousness. He'd met her at a party back in NYC and, when they'd broken-up three months earlier, he'd found the biggest emotion he felt to be that of relief.

    Amy and Jared made plans to get together several times that week, initially at the coffee shop, then for dinner, then a movie, then just for walking around and talking during the evening, often strolling through the downtown area lit by old-timey street lamps. It did not go unnoticed by both parties that the time spent discussing what to do about the redevelopment continually shrank with each outing. The next week it disappeared completely.

    Jared was a big fan of the local college's football team, and enthusiastically invited Amy to their home game that weekend. It wasn't at all in her wheelhouse, but Amy enjoyed experiencing something new (for her), and also watching her friend be super into the game. As a trade-off, Jared had agreed to accompany Amy to hear the local symphony perform. It was an excuse for them to dress up, and Jared was impressed with the concert hall. For having grown up in the village, he realized it was unfortunate that he'd never once stepped foot inside the building. He found that, while he could appreciate the music on a certain level, it really wasn't his thing. That being said, he absolutely loved listening to Amy as she giddily explained to him during intermission what the background of that particular symphony was about.


*


    Two weeks had passed, and neither Amy nor Jared had come up with much of a plan for tackling the issue at hand. They went to the town hall meeting and listened as the town board discussed their options, and attempted to justify their ultimate decision. Then they voted 4-1 in favor of the redevelopment. Nothing concrete was said, but one of the board members noted with an air of confidence that bulldozers and construction equipment would be on-site no later than one year, and that the businesses impacted should make plans to move or close for good. There was a mixture of anger and despair as the crowd left the meeting hall, their heads hung low.

    As folks dispersed into the night, Jared offered his words of condolence and said his goodbyes to his dad's friend, then approached Amy with an attempt to be both sad and uplifting. "I know that was rough," he said, "but I know that we can all come together and fight this! I was just talking with Mr. Pearson, and he has a few ideas... "

    Amy weakly raised a hand. "It's okay, Jared. No more."

    "I'm sorry? I don't understand."

    Amy looked wearily at her quizzical friend, then said: "This has been going on for months, and I'm tired of fighting it."

    "But... "

    "Thank you for being so willing to help, but now I just want to let it go. If you want to help Mr. Pearson, that's great, I think you should. But as for me, I'm done."

    Jared found himself stammering. "But, I -- I... I didn't think it would end this quickly. Maybe we could... "

    She cut him off. "I'm moving, Jared."  The words seemed to stop him in his tracks. She continued. "I saw the writing on the wall, and so decided to dust off my Computer Science degree, and see what was out there on the job market. I've lucked out and found a job doing tech support for a west coast company."

    "West coast?" Jared muttered.

    "Yes, California. They're going to let me work remotely for the first two months, but then want me out there permanently after that. It gives me time to close things down at the bakery."

    Amy hoped the matter-of-factness in her voice masked the sadness she was feeling at leaving, not just the village that had come to be her home, but her employees, her neighbors and, now, the man whose company she'd enjoyed the previous two weeks. She'd known that a move was in the offing, and that making a new friend probably wasn't the best idea, but hey, she liked him, so why not? Nothing in life is permanent.

    Jared's desire to offer protestation at Amy's news quickly faded as he realized the reality that, once his dad either got better (unlikely) or passed away, he would be returning to real life in NYC. They were both on borrowed time. Perhaps that is why he had denied any deep thoughts on where things might be going with his favorite bakery owner.

    In the end, a little less than two months later, Amy had sold the bakery and was on the cusp of leaving on a jet plane, and Jared's dad had died. Amy had attended the funeral, which Jared had found himself to be very moved by. They'd enjoyed one last dinner together, at a favorite local haunt, and then one morning Jared drove Amy to the nearest airport, where her flight awaited. The goodbyes felt perfunctory, and there were promises to keep in touch, but both of them knew things wouldn't be the same. They also realized, in their own private ways, that that was life.


*


    Six months later, life had moved on for both of them.

    Amy had settled-in fairly well to life in Los Angeles. It made for a big change of pace from the New England hamlet she'd called home for over a decade, but it had its pros. The weather was nice -- sunny and warm -- and there was a large dating pool. After having lived there for four months, Amy decided to dip her toe in the proverbial water of the dating pool. She met several guys, and they were nice enough, but she didn't quite click with any of them. She'd never felt completely comfortable around them. Thoughts traveled to the man she'd known for those last few weeks back east, to how well he'd listened to her, to the ideas and support he'd offered and, yes, to his smile that he seemed to flash so effortlessly. Perhaps, if circumstances had been different...

    Life back in NYC had kept Jared busy. The job at the law firm was pretty demanding and, when he wasn't busy pulling long hours with that, he would go on the occasional, unsatisfactory date. Nice women all of them but, once the outings were over, he did not find himself looking forward to seeing them again. Not like it had been with the red-headed woman back in his hometown, who had indulged his passion for the local football team, and who had introduced him to the concept of classical music, which he'd found himself listening to on occasion since returning to NYC. Perhaps, if circumstances had been different...

    ... but maybe they could be? Jared found himself holding the same internal conversation: You don't really love it in New York, do you? And you don't want to move back home, right? That would be like admitting defeat. And besides, what would you do there? There are already enough attorneys in town, and another one, even a hometown boy, would just be vying for scraps. So where would you go? California? C'mon, man -- you're not going to move across the country for one person, right?

    Jared thought about all of that as he prepared to enter a meeting.


*


    Amy had reached out to Jared and invited him to come visit her in LA. She felt it was somewhat impulsive, then reminded herself how much thought she'd given to it during the week. She couldn't detect from his voice if he was enthusiastic about coming, but he'd said yes, so that was a good sign. Something to look forward to, at least. She found herself cleaning her apartment, though it had already been fairly spotless to begin with. Three weeks went by, and then Jared's plane was landing that afternoon. Amy found herself standing in the waiting area of LAX, a sensation of butterflies permeating her stomach.

    She saw the smile first. There were a sea of faces approaching her, but Amy detected the smile almost right away. She attempted to smile back, but of course the persistent doubt always crept-in that maybe he didn't like her as much as she liked him? In which case, it would be best to stay cool, and just give him a friendly hug and then walk to the parking garage with his luggage, ready to see the sights. She'd given a great deal of thought to what all they could do while he was visiting.

    Jared told himself to be calm, and hold off on telling Amy anything until later. Maybe over dinner? Or perhaps even breakfast the next day? He felt knots in his stomach. What if he'd made the wrong decision? What if she was fine with him visiting, but didn't really want him there full-time? Maybe she already had a full-on life out there now, and he wasn't supposed to be a part of it?

    Jared had finally walked the distance to Amy, and they gave each other a hug. They two stayed embraced for several moments, enjoying being in each other's company again, and then Jared found himself muttering the words before his filter could even stop them.

    "LA seems like a nice place. Like, maybe a nice place to live?"

    Still embracing, a quizzical look crossed Amy's face and she said, "Yes?"

    Jared found himself unable to stop, though his voice was uneven. "So, I've talked with my boss, and he'd be down for letting me do some remote work."  Silence.   "As in, maybe working remotely from here, in LA."  More silence.  "I don't know, like, I could try it out? It's doubtful he'd be okay with it becoming a permanent thing, so if I like it out here, I'd probably have to find a new job, but can cross that bridge if and when... "

    Jared stopped as Amy pulled away from him. They were completely separated, though he saw that her arms were bent at the elbows, her hands raised and trembling, seeming as though she wanted to physically reconnect, but wasn't sure how. He also saw that her eyes were ever-so-slightly beginning to water.

    With her voice both quivering and also as strong as a sonic boom, Amy looked at her friend and said, "I think you should stay."

 

Copyright (c) 2024  by Matt L. Gladney



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