by Siera London
“Maybe this is a bad idea,” she said, staring at the computer screen. Clicking the mouse, she created a username and password. Placing her glasses on the tip of her nose, Julie thumbed through the course offerings. The English class she though she needed and wanted soon was replaced by a history course taught by one Rui Conners on Asian Civilizations in Modern Times. She clicked the link.
“Oh, are you thinking about taking Professor Conners’ course?” the pretty young black girl asked.
“I think so,” Julie replied looking at her, “is he a tough professor?”
“He’s not one of my instructors, but I’ve heard he is really good with his students,” she said.
Julie thought she heard a hint of interest in the woman’s voice. She laid her pen on the table, shifting her body in the seat. The young lady had her full attention.
“Is that right?” She let a note of curiosity enter her tone. At her ‘tell me more’ look, a shy smile crossed the other woman’s face.
“Anyway,” she replied changing the subject. “I’m Autumn Raine, a music therapy major here at the university.” She extended a hand in greeting. “Julie, right? I’ve heard about you around town.”
“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Julie Kraztner,” she said with a firm shake of their hands. Admittedly, Julie had never met a music therapist, but it sounded like a fascinating course of study. “Forgive me for being nervous, but it has been a while since I’ve been in the classroom.”
“You know what?’ Autumn said, “I think Rui has office hours today. I am headed that way. Come on, I will point you in the right direction.”
“No, I don’t want to be any trouble,” Julie said.
“It won’t be,” Autumn said, leading the way.
The Humanities building was only across the quad as they walked up the two flights of stairs to the history wing. Professor Connors was an attractive man of Asian descent, with a goatee that gave him a certain finesse. Attractive, yet aloof.
Introductions made, it didn’t escape Julie’s notice that Rui Conners held Autumn’s hand longer than necessary. The little music major had been correct about the professor. He took his time explaining the course load, expectations, and the end of class project. It sounded fascinating to Julie, but she was more interested in the spark between the student and the teacher. A forbidden affair. A flash of information shared with her by Abel popped into her head: Endurance is the single dad capital of California. Is the Professor a single dad, too?
“Professor, this sounds like it is going to be a great class,” Julie said, shaking his hand. “I will work on my enrollment and will see you in class.” A perfect book title popped into her head.
A Forbidden Affair: Professor J and Sword of Destiny
Julie laughed as she rode her bike towards the center of town, stopping at The Cupcakery for a key lime cupcake and a few Snickerdoodles for Abel. He was coming over later that night, and said he wanted to talk. Almost seven months were left on her contract in Endurance. However, the new concern was if she could leave the man she’d fallen in love with, Abel Burney.
Chapter 6 – A Walk Through Endurance
Abel sat in the driveway of the old cottage he and his son once called home. Lately, he’d been staying here so often, it was beginning to feel that way again. He also started to feel another way again as well. Abel felt the start of love. It wasn’t necessarily the start of love since he was waist deep and ass high in processing the steady stream of emotions generated by the little wisp of a woman. She had him wrapped around her finger without barely trying. The beauty of the relationship hinged on Julie’s lack of requirements from him. No demands. No mandates. She just wanted to exist in the same time and space, sharing the moments with him.
He loved that about her.
She’d backed off on the coffee consumption in the past five months, drinking more green teas, exercising, and reducing the amount of red meat she ate. He never considered himself a health freak, but living in a town focused on physical fitness did require a few adjustments. Julie adjusted well, even signing up for a class at the University. He tooted the horn when she rode up the drive on the bike he left at the house for renters. He was glad that she was making good use of it.
“Hey Abel, ready to raise some cane?” She asked with a wink.
“I was hoping we could talk,” Abel said, exiting the expensive luxury sedan he loved to drive.
“Come on in. I have a roast in the oven, and I’ll make us some lemonade,” she told him, parking the bike on the porch.
Abel took a seat on the old couch that had become Julie’s favorite place to take a nap. On occasion, he would join her on the couch, on lazy Sunday afternoons as he read and she dozed. It was a comfortable friendship, or relationship, that had blossomed into what he felt had become meaningful, at least to him.
“Julie, I think, and please hear me out,” he began to say, holding the tips of her fingers into his hand, “we go back and forth from this cottage to my home. I would like us to reside in one place under one roof.”
“Abel, that’s sweet, but the company paid for this house for a year,” she told him. “Plus, I like my independence.”
“I love our independence as well, but I like waking up with you even more,” he said, sliding off the couch to one knee.
“What are you doing?” She asked with her eyes wide.
“Trying to propose,” he told her and reached into his pocket.
“Propose?” she repeated, narrowing her eyes. “You are asking me to marry you?’
“Well, I’m trying.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she said, pulling her hand away and clutching at the imaginary pearls she wasn’t wearing.
“Say yes,” he told her. “Julie, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you, seeing you stumble through the kitchen in the morning searching for hot coffee to drink, butt naked and confused. I love our Sunday afternoons, our Friday nights, and our Wednesday walks through Endurance. Marry me. Make me whole again.”
Julie gulped. Marriage. To Abel. She’d never considered marriage before, let alone settling down. Her life consisted of airplane rides, interviews, and challenging herself to learn new things. Until now, she hadn’t realized that she was tired of all the traveling. This assignment had not been what she expected, and quite honestly, one that she dreaded with every fiber of her being. But since arriving in Endurance, a new calm had entered the life she led. A nice calm. A reduced caffeine free calm sated in a bowl of happiness. A happiness that radiated through every solitary word she wrote on her screen and strung together to make beautiful sentences. Love got her to this point, and Abel was the band leader to a new group of notes that challenged the out of date tunes that used to play in her head.
Mentally, Julie was the sharpest than she’d been in years. Physically, she was more fit. Her diet had greatly improved, and true happiness had finally arrived in her life. More importantly, waking up next to Abel was fantastic. Her lips moved, giving him the correct answer, he sought.
“Yes, Abel... I will marry you,” she told him.
He sprang to his feet embracing her and showered her face with kisses. He loved his Julie. Happiness had come to him at last, and he had someone to share his life. The moment his hand touched hers on the plane, he knew a connection was shared between them. The smiles were often, and the love strong. More importantly, he could have a conversation with her on matters from the mundane to the ethereal. She was his partner, his friend, his lover. Abel was old enough to realize the shortfalls in life but young enough at heart to still take chances.
Julie took a chance with him, and he was prepared and ready to take every risk needed for a long term of happiness. Over pot roast and seasoned potatoes, they planned a life together. The wedding would be small with her brother giving her away. Her mother would come to town, and her few friends would comprise the wedding party. An autumn wedding was what she wanted.
An autumn wedding was what th
e lady would get.
“COME ON MRS. BURNEY,” Abel called to her from the large front porch of their home nestled behind the First Presbyterian Church.
“Stop rushing me husband,” she said, putting on her walking shoes. It was Saturday afternoon and a lovely day for a stroll through the town square.
Hand in hand, they left the house with the camera hanging about her neck. Riders were in town as well as horsemen preparing for the Fall Race. Elsie Devonshire had given her a permanent assignment in Endurance to cover the annual events in the town. Each year would have a different feel, and each race a different winner. It was her job to cover them all.
In between writing for Sports Complicated, she also created fresh content on festivals in the area reaching out into Sacramento, and as far as the San Francisco Bay. She loved her job and her life with a man who held her hand months ago on a bumpy plane ride to cover events she had no interest in. Today, she was high on the list of journalists and listed amongst the other residents as local experts. She was far from an expert but always asked great questions, which yielded great interviews that in turn, produced great human-interest stories.
Endurance was her new home. She loved the town, the people and all the quirks of living here. More importantly, she loved the weekly walks through the town.
Down the hill they walked, stopping into The Cupcakery for a cookie and cupcake, saying hello to Dr. Winter and Sherron Baker, the stuttering baker. In the corner sat Ivy Summers, the new helper at No Limit Bar and Grille, owned by Owen Tate. They passed by the Endurance Museum, waving to Amelie Bishop and Jose Primavera as they worked on the Aztec exhibit stands. On the second floor in the library, Professor Rui Conners sat with his daughter Simone in the children’s section. In a cubicle close by, she noticed, Autumn Raine sporting a pair of headphones as she stole glances at Rui, with a warm smile on her face.
“Hey Abel, hiya Julie,” was the normal greeting they received when people saw them together either riding their bikes or strolling through town. Julie wasn’t quite ready to learn how to play golf, much to Abel’s dismay. He really wanted to target women golfers, and possibly hold a golf tournament in the next few years. It would be a feather in his cap to have his wife as part of the spearheading team.
However, that would be later. His mind was on the present. A new movie was on the agenda for the evening, and Julie loved a good romantic comedy. He wanted to see a movie where things were blown up, but much like life, marriage was loaded with compromises. Julie selected a movie from the shelf with two happy faced people and a dog. He knew it was going to be the movie she selected. Abel frowned, not bothering to hide his distaste at her selection, but it was her night to choose.
“Abel, maybe we can make a compromise,” Julie offered, putting the movie down and selecting another one equally as sappy.
“This horrible movie is going to be a compromise,” he whispered in her ear as he swiped his library card.
Julie loved when Abel whispered in her ear. It sent shivers down her spine and reminded her of the gifted, skilled, highly trained and motivated endurance runner. She’d learn to enjoy the intervals of love they often took on lazy days to enjoy their intimate moments. When she didn’t have the energy to keep pace with him, his subtle art of persistence always paid off in the end, with Julie managing to stay the course while going the distance with her handsome, silver fox.
“You are going to love this movie just as much as you love me,” she said, giving him a light squeeze.
“I don’t think that is possible,” he said, kissing her on the temple.
Abel and Julie checked out a movie for Saturday night viewing, plus a few books to read before they headed home. These days, regardless of the weather, she loved getting out with her husband, and taking a weekly walk through Endurance.
-Fin-
Intervals of Love (excerpt)
The Men of Endurance
Olivia Gaines
Chapter One – The Warm Up
The old mail truck squeaked, rattled, and backfired coming up the small incline as it turned onto Dodger Lane, stopping incrementally to drop off bills and more bad news. Willie Barnes, the local postal carrier was proud of the old truck that somehow managed to still crank day after day, year after year as the old driver made his rounds. Chadwick Winter knew his routine as well as the frequent stops he made to pick up coffee, a donut and to shoot the fat off the old duck while he made his rounds. Willie seemed to have impeccable timing, knowing exactly how many minutes to be at each location since it never failed that at 8:15 each day, he stopped in front of the Winter home to leave the daily mail. Even on Mondays, Willie was always on time. Today, was the day Chadwick wished he’d been late.
“Morning Dr. Winter,” Willie said, parking the old rattrap to walk up the drive, “I have a certified letter for you today.”
Coffee in hand, he stood on the front porch waiting for the package that he knew was coming today. There was no need to hide from the ugliness Willie was delivering. The package brought forth the delivery of the close of one life and hopefully the start of a new one.
“Morning Mr. Barnes,” Chadwick replied, accepting the package and signing the slip of paper.
“Certified letters are usually bad news, but it is such a glorious day to be alive, I hope you take what’s in it as a sign of rebirth,” Willie told him.
Great. Just what I need. A philosophizing mailman.
“From your mouth to God’s ears, Willie.”
“Have a good day,” Willie said whistling as he walked away.
That was Chadwick’s life in a nutshell. People walked up, handed him a warm pile a poop and walked away whistling as if they hadn’t simply ruined his life. Here Chadwick, take this shit and be happy. I’m not happy.
Envelope in hand, he entered his three-bedroom home to start a pot of oatmeal for his two-year-old James, who would be awake soon and terrorizing the world. The child had loads of energy and only stopped whirling when he exhausted the dervish and passed out in the middle of the floor with his pull-up stuck in the air. He didn’t care if he was a pediatrician – the terrible twos were a marketing term. James was a mini bioterrorist. A whirling dervish of energy that passed out nasty kisses laced with viruses and other spores of which his father seemingly had failed to build up an immunity.
“Daddy!” The child called from the other room just as Chadwick set the water to boil. Adding two cups of oats to the buttery water, a tablespoon of brown sugar and a dash of salt, the morning gruel would be ready by the time he changed and washed James’ face.
“Coming son,” he called back, heading down the hall to his room.
Chadwick opened the curtain allowing the rays of sunshine as the adorable little boy stood in his bed, holding onto the wooden rails as if he’d been imprisoned for the night and the warden was coming to set him free. His little feet danced in anticipation at seeing his father as hands rose to be lifted from his cage so he could hit the floor and get moving.
“Good morning James,” Chadwick said, lifting the child from the infant bed, “today is going to be an amazing day.”
“Hi Daddy,” the infant said. His language skills were developing slowly but Chadwick wasn’t worried. The new daycare that James attended was one of the best in Endurance. Heck, there were only three in town, but in his estimation, Toddle Time was the better of the three. All of the children who attended the school were also his patients and right on track in learning and development. He felt blessed that the owner reached out to him holding a spot for James.
In his pocket were a handful of Cheerios that he placed in James’ potty as he placed the child’s feet on the floor, pulling down his night time diaper. He’d trained the boy to sink the cereal with well-aimed shots of urine. The game was the easiest method he knew to teach a boy to use the toilet. James did not disappoint as he clapped happily at accomplishing the morning task, reaching for his father with pee-pee hands to be washed.
“Great job little man,”
Chadwick said, placing an affectionate kiss on the top of his head. “It’s time for oatmeal.”
“Yay, and yoosh,” James said.
“Yes, you can have some juice as well,” he said, drying his hands and carrying him to his high chair. Seated, wearing a bib, the child had a ravenous appetite that when he wasn’t tearing up everything in sight, he was shoveling something in his little pie hole.
Chadwick spooned in a hearty serving of oatmeal into the bowl, warning James that it was hot, as he made a slice of toast with strawberry jam. He handed him the toast first as the oatmeal cooled. His bowl, he set to the side as he opened the package in which he’d been dreading. It was from Turner & Hobbs, Attorneys at Law.
As if James knew what was inside the envelope, he remained quiet, observing his father while munching on his toast. The white sheets slid out of the package as Chadwick read over the words declaring his divorce final, and Bria Cayes out of his and James’ lives. It was good riddance as far as he was concerned. Any woman who would leave her infant child wasn’t a woman that he wanted nor needed in his life. James sure as hell didn’t deserve her for a mother.
“Wuv you, Daddy,” James said as if he knew the words would bring his father comfort.
“I love you more, James,” he said, handing him the bowl of oats, “make sure you blow before you put it in your mouth.”
He nodded his head as he scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal, blowing more saliva than anything on the spoon, ladling a load of mush into the small pie hole.
My divorce is final. I am free of her.
“THIS JUST ISN’T WORKING for me Chad, for us,” Bria Cayes said one cold December morning. “I hate this town, these people and the smell of sweat from damp bodies running around trying to make their hearts burst out of their chests. I have to get out of here.”
