Other Sides of Glass (standard:romance, 2600 words)
Author: victoriawhita	Added: Nov 02 2003	Views/Reads: 3637/2390	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Victoria get some solace when she goes to 'her' beach. Maybe this trip she'll get something more.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

question. I didn't want to look away, but felt I had to. I kept my 
hands on the glass but turned my head. She informed me that someone had 
sent a rose to me. I was surprised. What was happening? I thanked her 
and turned back to the window, but he was gone. The sunset had 
disappeared as well. 

Now I was wondering it had all been my imagination. I looked around to
the entrance and didn't see anyone walk in. I sat down, picked up the 
rose and sniffed its sweet scent. It was a mystery. Was it just going 
to stay that way and be a sweet remembrance? I sat down and lookedd 
around the room, looking at it differently this time. I did notice some 
people looking back at me as I looked at them, but I was sure it was 
because they wondered at my behavior, rather than because they had an 
answer to the mystery. The waitress came to bring me my food. I watched 
her as she left and walked through the kitchen entrance. 

Then I noticed him sitting at a corner table. His eyes were on me so
strongly I couldn't look away. He must have come in the kitchen 
entrance while I looked for him at the front. What was he thinking? Why 
had he met me on the other side of the glass like that? I wanted to 
meet this man. How do you meet a stranger? I'd never had experience at 
that. If he had sent the rose, what could I send in return? I had 
learned during conversation-filled lunches in my college cafeteria how 
to fold a napkin into a rose, like origami. I took my napkin and 
carefully made a rose, wanting it to be the best one I'd made. I called 
my waitress over to deliver it to the man at the corner table.  Her 
smile was more than just polite. Her eyes twinkled as she agreed. What 
could the waitress know about the man? As she walked away I wondered at 
what I was doing, realizing how out of the usual this was for me. I sat 
still watching him as he received the rose. The waitress pointed to my 
table, but he stood up before the she was even finished her sentence. 

He approached and I allowed this stranger to sit at my table. My eyes in
a trance held by his. I hoped he'd speak first but when he didn't I 
said, "My rose smells very nice, thank you." 

It didn't sound like my voice. I heard his voice then say, "My rose will
not fade." 

Many questions floated through my mind but I dared not voice them. He
said, "What is it about Thursdays that brings you here?" 

Did he say "Thursdays," plural? How did he know that I often came on
Thursday? I was here other days too, but Thursday was a more regular 
day. The revelation slowly dawned on me that he must have noticed me 
some time ago and had been watching for me. I started to open my mouth 
with a quizzical look, but closed it again. He smiled as he realized I 
had connected. He seemed pleased that I had caught on, so it made me 
bold enough to actually answer his question. 

I responded, "Thursday is staff meeting day, which causes a great deal
of stress towards the end of my week." 

"And you're a teacher?" 

I was quite surprised at this and started to move away from him. Scared
that I had starting thinking of this 'stalker' as a friend so quickly, 
I started panicking. He quickly explained, "I see you grading papers 
some times." I relaxed. I agreed that that was true. He asked me what 
grade I taught. 

He smiled when I answered, "Grade Two." 

I asked him if he was going to join me for dinner. Some tension left his
body with a nervous sigh, as if he had been holding his breath under 
water. I could see him start to relax as he ordered a light meal. His 
voice was smooth and I knew I was starting to get caught in a magic 
spell. I didn't know if he had cast it, or some other force, but I was 
being drawn to him. He asked me my name, and I was almost surprised he 
didn't know, for he seemed to know so much about me. But I was also 
glad that he did not. 

I asked him to tell me his name first. It was David...David Forrester. I
whispered it to myself, so I wouldn't forget. 

"I'm Victoria Whita" I responded. I knew I should be cautious but all of
a sudden I wanted this man to know me. He licked his lips as if tasting 
the name and then repeated it back. I nodded.  I knew I wouldn't 
completely relax with this man unless I knew. I had to know, so I took 
a drink and asked, "How long?" He looked up and seemed to not be 
willing to answer. I said, "It's important that I know." 

He nodded and said, "You want to know how long I've been watching for
you?" 

"YES!" 

He said, "It's like a dream that I'm not watching you again tonight. I
used to work here. I noticed you even though I only worked in the 
kitchen. During my break I'd sit and watch you. At first because I was 
watching everyone. But soon I would look for you...always looking 
beautiful...one night windswept...one night looking serious and deep in 
thought." He moved his hand toward mine. I sensed he wanted to touch me 
as he spoke. I wasn't going to move toward him until I knew the whole 
story. His hand stopped moving and he continued, "Another night you 
looked full of sadness that I ached to comfort you. One night you were 
grading papers. The night you walked in with a guy, I was so jealous 
that I knew I had to meet you." 

I was flabbergasted but let him continue, remembering how each of those
nights I had felt so alone, but had found solace in my evening trips to 
the beach and restaurant. Maybe his unknown attentions had reached to 
me to add to the solace I felt. I didn't know how to react. I grasped 
my hands in my lap trying to control the shaking in my hands. I was 
starting to enjoy this story. He said, "I had another job offer at the 
same time I was wanting to meet you. And it was a job I was looking 
for, and I couldn't believe the timing. I thought I'd have to keep you 
as a just a sweet memory. Then I realized that if I just came here 
every Thursday night as a customer, maybe some night I'd have the 
chance to approach you. I brought a rose with me every Thursday night 
for the last 3 months. I always came early enough to get the same table 
by the kitchen and asked for yours to be reserved if possible. Some 
nights you didn't come and I prayed you'd be okay. I was jealous that 
you might be out with someone else. And tonight you looked so sad and 
even lost, I knew this had to be the time. That I wanted to do 
something to encourage your day. You were so sad you didn't see 
anything except the sunset and I knew if I could connect with you 
through the sunset, I'd get your attention. The idea popped in my mind 
and at the same moment that I realized it was probably insane, I was 
determined to try it." 

"I slipped out through the employee entrance onto the back porch and
stood on the other side of the glass, feeling that even though the 
barrier was there, that I was with you and giving you some of the joy 
that you've given me. I thought if I looked into your face I'd scare 
you away and you'd think me a lunatic. I had many times dreamt of 
holding your hand and I knew if the evening ended with me just holding 
your hand from the other side of the glass it would have been enough." 

He came to the end of his story as if holding his breath the whole time.
He had been shy and had hardly looked at me while talking. I had stared 
at him, watching his nervous finger movements and his uneven breathing. 
Now he looked up at me, waiting for some sign from me. 

What he saw was some tears trickling down my cheek, and me biting my
lip. Was it possible he had just said all that about me? Did I need to 
turn around to see if there was someone behind me he was talking about? 
 No, it was me he was looking at. It was me he was talking about. I 
finally spoke, "I wonder if it was some of your concern and caring for 
me that I felt as I came here each week and felt safe. I always went 
home refreshed and feeling better, and wanting to return. Thank you." 
He was visibly relieved after I finished my sentence. 

"So, you don't think I'm a lunatic?" He asked as if he needed more
affirmation. 

"I don't think you're a lunatic but I guess I do think you're crazy to
be so patient and take so much care just to meet me." 

I put my hand up resting my elbow on the table and looked at him. He put
his hand up and touched mine. Our hands were together with no glass 
separating them. His large hand was warm and steady unlike my shaky 
one. I felt all the tension spill out. I had come for a little time to 
forget about my life stresses, but now had found the beginning of 
something new, exciting, powerful. I folded my fingers down clasping 
his hand, and he folded his fingers down covering r my small hand. We 
couldn't stop smiling at each other. 

I wasn't going to let him go. 

The End


Tweet