Love's Rendition

Part 19

by Tragedy88

 

 

E-Mail: Tragedy88@goplay.com

 

 

Disclaimers:  See Part 1.

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Allison had the day off from work when I approached her on the back patio.  She was wearing a pair of beige slacks and a white blouse, covered mostly by a navy, v-neck sweater.  Her casual beauty left me at a loss for words after my initial 'hey'.

            She smiled and said 'hey' back.  "What's up?" she asked, a breath of white air escaping her full, red lips.

            "Not much.  Just came to see what you were doing," I said as I sat in the lawn chair next to her.  I was working up my courage to say what needed to be said.

            Allison turned to me, her eyes shining bright and blue, matching the cloudless winter sky.

            “Aren’t you cold?”  She gestured to my thin gray T-shirt.

            I shrugged, and crossed my arms as I kicked my feet up on the long chair.  We sat in silence for a while.  It was nice not to feel like we needed conversation.  Her mere presence was enough to settle my nerves and I let a small, lazy smile cross my lips.

            “Daniel said everything was fine?”

            I’d gone to see him yesterday.  “He said everything’s healing nicely.  In fact, better then he’d hoped.  I’ll be able to return to a light work schedule in a matter of days.”  My tone turned wistful, but that’s as far as I went.  These last few days had been good, and while I didn’t ever want to leave here, I couldn’t fool myself either.

            Allison nodded without turning my way and crossed her legs.  She closed her eyes and settled deeper into her chair.  “That’s good.”  She paused.  “Will you go back to being a waitress?”

            “Dunno.  Don’t really want to,” I said honestly.  “Maybe I’ll do bartending again.  Tough, but fun.  And you always meet the most interesting people.”  I grinned crookedly, remembering one time in particular.

            “What?” Allison asked, with a raised eyebrow.  “Find yeself a nice strong lad, did ye?” she asked in a thick Irish brogue.

            Chuckling I said, “A bar, my dear, not a pub.”  Her smile was so bright that it nearly took my breath away, again.  “I worked at this one bar, called the Salty Sea.  It was the epitome of a seedy, back alley bar, but I loved it.”

            “What happened?”

            “This and that.  Mostly the accident.”

            “Where you fell down the stars?”  Allison twisted on the lounge chair and looked at me intently.

            I nodded.  “It wasn’t their fault.  Things happen.”  I shrugged.

            “So,” Allison drawled.  “Tell me about these fascinating people you met.”  Either her eyes or the cold made me shiver.  I watched as she grinned slightly and pulled off her sweater.  “Here.”

            “You’ll get cold,” I protested.

            “I’m fine.”

 

•••

 

Allison watched Grace’s blond head disappear beneath navy blue folds.  In truth she wasn’t cold.  Grace had set a warmth burning in her belly that didn’t diminish even as she chuckled at the sight of the young woman in a sweater that was much too big for her.

“What are you laughing at?” the artist asked indignantly, but with a wide grin.  “Do you want me to tell this story or not?”  She raised a jaunty brow.

            “Go right ahead.  By all means, don’t let me stop you.”

            Grace tilted her head slightly to the side, and her bangs fell gently into her eyes.  Impatiently she brushed them aside.  “Well, there was this one woman I remember the most.  She was a regular customer.  Her hair was this fiery red, and her eyes the most intense green-“

            The words faded away from Allison’s ears as she watched the waning sun kiss the blond head with golden highlights.  Her lips were small, pink, and definitely kissable.  Her cheeks were the same pink, warmed by the sun and the passion with which she told her tale.  Her hands- small, slim and artistically tapered- accentuated her tale with little up and down movements.

            But what fascinated Allison the most were Grace’s verdant eyes.  They blazed with a joy that the gallery owner had only seen when painting.  Something had changed in the young woman.

            And, if Allison had had any talent for painting, this is what she would have painted.  A vibrant young woman, with a love for life.

 

•••

 

As my tale wound down and finished I realized I’d purposely steered clear of the real reason why I’d come outside.  But as I looked at Allison’s smiling face, felt the crisp, winter wind swirling around us and caught the smell of snow I couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of peace.

            “You must be cold by now,” I said softly.

            Allison started, then looked at her arms, as if seeing them for the first time.  “A little bit,” she admitted.

            “How about we make some hot cocoa?” I asked, as I stood and reached out a hand to help her up.

            “Sounds good.  I can get Vell-“

            “I thought we could make it together, then maybe sit by the fireplace.  What do you think?”  I asked quietly and met pale eyes.

            Allison nodded and led the way inside to the kitchen.  Once we were there I offered to give the sweater back, but Allison shrugged, and said ‘whenever would be fine.’  I hid a smile behind her back as she rummaged through the cupboard, and snuggled deeper into the warmth and light scent of Allison that surrounded me.

 

•••

 

(c) 2000, Tragedy88

 

 

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