Part One
Beginnings: Part 2
Emma sat looking down at her hands in the coffee house next to the train station. She asked herself, for what seemed to be the billionth time, what the hell she was doing there.
She had allowed a strange man to take her there to buy her some coffee… Then what? She looked at the counter, which she was facing across a low coffee table, and past the other deep chair. The man, she guessed she should call him by his name: Henry, was standing there with his back half way turned on her, leaning on the counter, waiting for their order. He was not smiling this time, looking at the counter where his right arm was resting.
There was something about him that she found intriguing.
“Don’t go there.” She said to herself shaking her head. She went back to looking at her hands, “Remember the last time you felt that?”
She sighed.
At least she was getting free coffee.
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Henry stood at the counter waiting for their coffee. The girl, he supposed he could call by her name: Emma, was sitting over by a coffee table with deep sitting chairs. He looked over at her briefly, turning back to look at his hand that was resting on the counter. He breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly. What in the world was he thinking inviting her to coffee? He was probably the world’s stupidest man. But then again, he already knew that.
There was something about her.
“Don’t start that.” He said to himself, sighing softly. He looked at the barista who was getting their drinks, “You know where that leads.”
He took the coffees off the counter and put on a smile.
At least he was beginning to feel something again.
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“Here,” Henry said placing down her cup of coffee, “I got it to go, so you could take it with you when you leave.”
Henry’s cup was also in a disposable cup. One thing he liked about this coffee house was that they used recycled products, and encouraged their patrons to do likewise. He smiled Emma, and watched as she looked down as she took her cup in her hand.
He smiled. There was something about her, perhaps her hair, or her eyes, he didn’t know, that made him want to get to know her. Besides, having someone to share coffee with was something that he had forgotten was nice to do.
She took a sip of her coffee, glanced at him for a moment, then turned and looked out the window.
He smiled wider.
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Why wouldn’t he stop smiling? It was infuriating.
She turned her face away from him, yet she could feel his stare and smile on her.
What was his problem?
What was her problem?
She saw though the window the traffic passing of people going by, and the milling of people on the train platform, most of which looked like the man sitting across from her. Perhaps he was a business man? He had a briefcase and a nice suit on. Well, not that nice, but it looked clean. She turned back to him, and saw him smiling still, and looked him over better than before.
Henry had on a dark charcoal suit, with a trench coat on. It suited him well.
She gave a mental giggle at that stupid slip, and went on looking him over. She looked back at his face, catching him in mid sip, and narrowed her eyes as his caught hers.
He wasn’t all that bad to look at.
“Nice weather.” He said lowering his cup and placing it on the table.
Emma shrugged and took another sip of her coffee.
She turned her head away, looking out the window again, trying not to feel curious about him, but something would not let her be.
A few moments passed and then she turned to see him looking out of the window with a distracted look on his face, as if he were a million miles away.
“So,” she said trying not to sound like she cared, “What is it you do anyway?”
“Hum?” he said, apparently returning to reality, “What did you say?”
Emma tried not to roll her eyes and sigh. Henry seemed to be distracted easily.
“Where do you work?” she repeated.
“Oh!” said Henry said smiling again, that stupid smile, “I am a professor at the college here.” He chuckled again, “I’m full time there teaching History and Anthropology.”
“What?” Emma said. She had never heard of that subject before.
“Anthropology.” Henry said smiling, it seemed, brighter, “The study of humans.” He rubbed the back of his head and said, “I specifically teach Cultural Anthropology: The study of human cultures.” Emma turned her head on its side. Yup, this man was strange. Henry laughed out loud and smiled brightly. “Not many people would understand why I would study that, but it turned out to be a good choice.”
She moved her eyes away from his, hoping she didn’t betray her wanting to laugh with him.
Her eye then caught the gold wedding band on his left ring finger.
For some reason, she felt greatly disappointed and very anoyed.
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Henry laughed.
It was something he had thought he had forgotten how to do. He smiled at the woman Emma and could not thank her enough for making him laugh at himself.
He took a longer look at Emma, noting her short black skirt that she kept pulling down over her legs. But then, he noticed it would not obey her, and just move back to its previous length. He supposed it was a uniform of sort, for it was accompanied with a short sleeved black shirt with lace like fringes, and a small maid like band on her head.
She was rather cute like that.
But it wasn’t his place to have that feeling.
He looked at his coffee cup, and then back out to the platform clock.
Their silence had taken up most of their half hour, and the next train would be pulling in soon.
Henry sighed inwardly.
He was having a good time. He didn’t want to lose this.
But he would be realistic: She was a stranger, and would most likely walk out of his life in a few moments.
“I must go soon.” He said looking at her. She looked up at him quickly, and thought he saw sadness in her eyes, and anger. He ignored this and asked: “Do you live far from here?”
“No.” she said, with what he thought was a hint of defiance. “I can walk home.”
“Are you sure?” His chivalry that his parents had instilled in him made him feel as if he needed to make sure she was home safely, “I could call you a cab?”
“No.” she said, the anger in her eyes growing, “I’m fine by myself.”
“Ok, ok...” Henry said backing off, “I’m sure you can get home safely.”
She shrugged and gave him one last searing look, then turned toward the window. Henry sighed inwardly, and looked outside too.
Just a few more minutes till he had to leave.
“Look Emma,” Henry said looking away from the window, and picking up his briefcase, “I’ll give you my phone number, and you can call me when you reach your house.” He saw her glare as he opened the case and pulled out a business card. He ignored it, and took a pen out to scribble down his cell phone number on the back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, just that I don’t trust other people.” He closed the briefcase and handed her the card over the table, “Please?”
He saw Emma looking at it, and he could tell she didn’t like it.
But she took the card, looked at it briefly and stuck it in a pocket in her skirt.
He smiled, feeling rather apologetic.
She looked at him with eyes that seemed to be trying to figure him out.
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Emma stood on the platform outside with Henry as his train pulled into the station. She would be polite, and wait till he was gone, but then she would go home and shake him off. She glared at the train as it pulled into the station, as if she could challenge it, rather than Henry.
As passengers disembarked the train, Henry turned towards Emma and smiled.
“Thank you for coffee.” He said.
Emma narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. She was somewhat taken off guard with that statement.
“You’re the one who bought it.” Emma said closing her eyes, turning her head away, and crossing her arms.
“Yes, but you shared it with me.” He said softly, “It’s rather enjoyable to share something like coffee with the right person, don’t you think so?”
She turned back to him, and looked back at him. He was smiling still, that stupid smile. But it wasn’t as if he was grinning anymore. She narrowed her eyes again
Henry held out his hand.
“Thank you Emma.”
Emma looked at his hand, and then uncrossed her arms to take it in a farewell gesture. He took her hand as she offered it, and raised it half way to his chest, and bent low over it closing his eyes. She felt him squeeze it a little. Then let go.
She felt as if someone had knocked her over the head!
She watched, slowly lowering her hand back down, as he opened his eyes and smiled brightly, waving as he went to the door of the train and boarded.
For a few seconds she just starred at the door that had last held his figure, trying to remember how to breathe. She closed her eyes, and then felt something brush her other hand in her pocket. She opened her eyes, as she pulled the rough object out.
She looked at Henry’s business card with mixed feelings of anger, hate, and whatever it was the last feeling she had just felt. But annoyance took over all of them. She ripped up the card, and left the station, tossing the pieces of paper in the bin along the way, where she and Henry had tossed their empty cups moments before.
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Henry smiled as he watched Emma rip up the business card.
She hadn’t noticed him watching her from the train.
Henry chuckled as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was tired, and soon would be home to deal with whatever was waiting for him there. But he knew that he would never forget the thirty minutes that he had just had with the interesting stranger.
