Five Stories for the Dark Months by Katherine Traylor Read Free Book Online

seen.
    As he tried to think of some way
to keep her looking at him—so he could keep looking at her—the
woman spoke. “I’m sorry. Am I in your seat?” Her voice was low and
gentle, with a hint of dulcet laughter.
    “Um, no!” Paul felt as if he’d
just stared into the sun. He blinked his eyes, trying
unsuccessfully to un-dazzle them. “Uh, no… um, not really. I… just,
I usually…”
    “Say no more.” The stranger’s
mouth twisted wryly, and she reached for her cup. It was one of the
ceramic ones, blue-and-white floral with a silicone lid. Wendy had
one like it in her office. “I was just going.“
    “No, no, please stay!” Paul said
quickly. “I’ll sit someplace else…”
    “Well, here.” The stranger reached
across the table, took a quilted cloth bag from the second seat,
and hung it from the back of her own. Like her clothes, it looked
discreetly expensive. “Won’t you join me?”
    “Uh—I—” Paul stammered. He felt
like he’d suddenly regressed to adolescence. “Um, I wouldn’t want
to interrupt…”
    “That’s all right. I always enjoy
company.” The woman put down her book—a thin, worn paperback with a
geometric cover. What Paul could see of the title looked like
French.

    He sat down without another
thought. “What are you reading?”
    “The collected works of Alain
Chartier.” She leaned closer. “Have you read him?”
    “Um… no,
I—” have never heard of
him . “I don’t get to do a lot of reading
these days.” He set down his untasted coffee.
    “No?” The woman blinked, startling
Paul with the flicker of her lashes. “That’s very sad. Why
not?”
    She had a slight accent—French,
probably, given the book, but it didn’t sound like French. Her
looks were no help, either—she could have been from anywhere, or
nowhere.
    After a second,
Paul realized that he hadn’t answered her question. “Um, my wife
and I just had a baby. Um, I mean she had the baby, but…
uh…”
    The woman laughed. “A new father?
I’m surprised you have time to stop for coffee.”
    Paul flinched guiltily. “Um, I
don’t.”
    “Aha—so you’re here incognito?”
The woman leaned closer with a conspiratorial smile. “Don’t worry:
I’ll tell no one.”
    “Ha. Thanks.” He sipped his
cooling drink.
    “What are you
drinking?”
    “It’s just a latte,” said Paul,
feeling inexplicably embarrassed.
    His companion nodded, as if he’d
said something profound. “How is it? I’ve never had
one.”
    “Really?” He offered his cup. “You
want to try some?”
    The woman’s laugh was like a flight
of butterflies. It left a delightful chill in Paul’s stomach. “Oh,
I couldn’t.”
    “You should! Here, it’s good.” He
pried up the lid of his cup and handed it to her, feeling oddly
eager to please.
    Smiling, she accepted the drink and
took a sip. Watching eagerly for her reaction, Paul was
disappointed to see her face fall. “Well, it’s… nice,” she
said.
    Rarely had he felt like such a
failure. “You don’t like it.”
    “Well, it’s… a little bland, isn’t
it?” The woman handed back his drink. “Kind of… thin.”
    He should never have gone for skim
milk. Trying not to feel defensive, he said, “What are you
drinking?”
    She picked up her cup as if she’d
forgotten about it. “Oh, this? It’s not on the menu. It’s a sort
of… specialty drink—a custom order.”
    “What—you mean, like, half soy,
half skim, triple-pump vanilla, hold the whipped cream, sprinkle
pixie dust on top? That sort of thing?”
    She smiled again, and Paul’s heart
started a two-step. “Maybe something like that.”
    “Well…” He cleared his throat.
“Can I try it?”
    He was embarrassed almost
immediately. What had made him say that? “It’s all right,” he said
quickly, “never mind. I—”
    “Here.” She held out the pretty
cup, and Paul took it reflexively. The hot ceramic stung his palms
as he sniffed the drink through the hole in the lid. It