Charms
Page 1
For my mother
How much I wish you could have seen me finish.
You are my light, my star, my guardian angel.
~*~*~*~~*~
I love you
I love you too
I love you four
I love you more
Charms
Copyright © 2015 Amanda Rae Munoz
Published by Amanda Rae Munoz
This is a work of fiction. Names, businesses, places, characters, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.
Charms
Amanda Rae Munoz
Contents
PROLOGUE
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EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
Life can be predictable. The same monotonous routine day in and day out. You become a creature of habit, a shell of yourself, set in your ways and completely accepting of a mundane life. That was me. And I thought I was ok with it. I had my life planned out since a child. I knew what I wanted to be, what school I wanted to go to. My life was mapped out for me and in all the plans I was making, I never bothered to pencil in a personal life. I never realized that routine was boring, that I would be unhappy and lonely. I would never be anything more than ordinary. But I achieved all that I had planned on and settled into a familiarity that would become my life. Apparently telling yourself over and over that you have accomplished all the great things you dreamed about doesn’t make you believe it. Or at least doesn’t make you believe it’s enough. I hid far below the surface the overwhelming desire for something exciting, for adventure, for love and for an extraordinary existence. Who knew I would get it. Who knew that all the feelings I held inside would bubble to the surface overflow and explode in to amazing? This is my story. The story of an ordinary girl who lived an extraordinary life.
Caught off guard
1.
The small maple wood table in the back right corner is my favorite spot. I sit there with the perfect view for an hour or so of people watching every weekend. I come to the mom and pop coffee shop BEANS AND TEAS around the corner from my townhome every Saturday and Sunday morning. Monday through Friday I stop by too but just to grab a coffee to take to the office. I sit here cozily sipping my coffee as I watch the people outside on the plaza sidewalk attend to their morning routine. I have spent countless lazy weekend mornings in this same spot. Today, like any other Sunday I sit and watch young couples and families until their faces start to blend together and I swear I’ve seen each person past twice. I lean back in my chair breaking my incessant gaze from the window and decide it’s time to leave. I have laundry to do and I need to clean the bathroom and then when I’m finally done I’m going to make myself something to eat, plant my butt on the couch with a good book, and do nothing else for the rest of the day. As I bend to pick my purse up off the ground I come face to foot with a pair of large, expensive looking brown shoes. My eyes roam up the dark washed denim covered ankles to follow long, lean legs up to a crisp, white collared shirt. I’m not sure where my eyes stopped but I definitely didn’t make contact with the face attached to that body until a smooth, sexy, accented voice caught my attention.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize how close I was to you. Excuse me.”
I look up to meet the eyes of the man standing in front of me and I feel an instant attraction. He is beautiful. His skin is smooth and the color of caramel. His smile bright and white and perfect and his eyes are a rich, mocha color. And they are warm and inviting and his smile shows through his eyes so brightly.
“Trust me, I don’t mind.” I don’t even know where that came from, my cheeks instantly warm with embarrassment. I was thinking it but never do I actually say what I’m thinking especially something as bold as that. I’m just not the type of girl to say something so daring. I quickly look back down to my purse to avoid his eyes. I feel trapped between him and the wall and there is nowhere for me to go.
A low rumbling chuckle from under his breath makes my stomach flutter. I look up and am captivated by his smile. As bright as it already is, it just seems to get even brighter. A silent moment passes between us as we both stare into each other’s eyes. Luckily it’s brief but long enough to make me squirm in my seat and look away. There is this awkward silence and I don’t know what else to say; thankfully my last comment opened the floor for him to take over the conversation.
“Well, then maybe I should order you another coffee so that you can stay here a little longer? And sit here…with me?” He looks at me with question in his eyes and maybe caution, and hope that he didn’t overstep his boundaries. I can’t even manage to formulate a sentence I just nod in agreement and he smiles seemingly happy with my nonverbal response. He walks away briefly and orders us both coffee from the girl behind the counter and I take that moment to release the breath I have been holding.
Where was the brave girl who just spoke her mind? I’m pretty sure I don’t know her, in fact we have never even met before. I’m nervous and seriously consider slipping out of this chair and taking off before he turns back around. I’m not a take charge type of girl and this situation makes me really uncomfortable. I’m like an observer of my own life, I sit back and watch and have no control over what happens and then wallow and feel sorry for myself about the life I’ve created. And as much as that sucks I think I’d much rather be doing that then sitting here right now. I try to calm myself and play this situation off like it’s no big deal. It’s just a man. A nice man who wants a coffee and I’m completely losing it. My palms start to sweat and I’m suddenly feeling anxious. I take a few breaths to calm myself as to not make such a big deal out of something so simple. It’s just a cup of coffee not a marriage proposal. And so what if we have coffee and don’t connect, he goes his way I go mine and it’s like it never happened. But, on the contrary, I could end up having an incredible conversation with a handsome man and actually enjoy myself for a while. I have nothing to lose. My inner monologue lasts all of a few seconds before I decide that when he comes back here, I’m going to enjoy my coffee and hopefully the company that comes along with it. I’m not going to over analyze the situation and make it into something more than it is.
He turns from the counter to look back at me after placing his order. He smiles lazily his lips curling in the corner up to one side and walks back to my table. I meet his big, brown, eyes and match his smile as he leans over the table to take my hand. His grip is solid and his large hands envelope mine. I’m hoping he doesn’t notice how clammy my hands are. He doesn’t seem to notice or if he does I can’t tell. His hands are soft and warm in my mine and they definitely don’t belong to a man that works with his hands.
“I’m Javier, I think we should probably get each other’s names right?” His voice is smooth and velvety. He’s spoken only a few words to me and already he’s different than any man I’ve met. I have had relationships with only a couple of men in my life and they all seem to meet the same cookie cutter, white collar category, but this man definitely doesn’t fit the bill. He’s exotic
and charming and probably a real life Casanova and a huge mistake. But I tell myself again it’s just coffee.
“Abigail.” I state simply. I’m trying to exude this cool confidence but in my mind I’m thinking, oh my God he’s probably been with like a 1000 women! He probably just wants to have sex with me. But then again, why would he want to have sex with me? Oh my God, what if he does! Would I have sex with him? Wait a minute, am I even any good at sex?! My mind is going a million miles an hour and I’m completely freaking out. I’m sure I don’t look as cool on the exterior as I hope to appear. Actually, I’m positive I look like a complete fool. Oh my God, he’s talking! Damn it! What did he just say?
“I’m sorry, what?” I feel the heat creep up my neck and flush my cheeks. He smiles back with a glint in his eyes, a look that makes me feel like a million butterflies are swarming in my stomach. It’s like he can read my mind, like he knows I was just thinking about having sex with him. I want to die. I want to slink down in my chair and melt into a puddle on the ground so he can’t see me. Thankfully, the waitress comes over and saves me. She doesn’t say a word. She just sets down a mug of steaming coffee for him, refills my cup and sets down a plate of Danishes that look absolutely to die for. It’s a welcome distraction and his eyes leave mine for a split second. It’s just long enough for me to finally exhale and calm my nerves slightly.
“So, Aby, I was saying that it’s nice to finally put a name to the face.” He’s looking at me expectantly waiting for an answer. But I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what he means by that and I’m stuck on the fact that he already nick named me. No body calls me Aby.
I take a small sip of my coffee and inwardly cringe as it burns the crap out of my tongue. He laughs. He actually laughs at me and I feel slightly embarrassed.
“It’s hot huh?” He reaches his hand to the plate of Danishes in front of him and grabs a small piece of the iced raspberry braid.
“What do you mean a name to the face?” I finally formulate a sentence. He doesn’t answer right away. Instead he rips a small piece of the bread and very slowly puts it in his mouth. He sucks the frosting off his fingers and all the while he never breaks eye contact. I don’t know if it was deliberate or not but he looked like sex on a stick doing that. I watch and wait for him to answer and try to ignore the way my body reacted to watching him do that.
“You are here every morning. I see you every time I’m here. On the days you work, you come in extra early and get a tall cup to go. You always tip the girl at the front counter. And on the days you don’t work, you come in later sometime around seven, like today. You sit at the small tables by the window, like today, and you watch all the people stroll by." He points out the window and I glance in the same direction. He continues, “Sometimes, you stare absentmindedly. Sometimes, you glare at the people you see even though I don’t think you even notice it and then other times, you smile. A small, faint smile that is so slight it almost doesn’t happen. But your eyes always look sad… kind of like today.” He says gazing intently at me.
My mind is reeling. I’m thinking a million things all at the same time and I don’t know whether I should be flattered or freaked out or pissed off. First of all, his eye contact is making me uneasy. Secondly, this man has been watching me. Why is he watching me? How long has he been doing it? And who the hell does he think he is! My psychologist? My eyes look sad… really! “Are you a psychologist or just a psycho?” My voice is laced with anger and I try to rein it in because I realize above all else that I’m extremely pissed off. I know talking when you’re angry is always the wrong time to speak; things get said that you typically wouldn’t say and once the words are spoken they can’t be taken back. I’m usually pretty passive but something about what he says just rubs me the wrong way. I surprise myself with my reaction but I’m really angry right now. I come here to be alone, I come here to think and get away and now I feel like he’s taken that away from me and invaded my space. This is the moment that I should stand and leave but I’m still sitting across from him waiting for him so say something. I guess I’m waiting for an explanation.
His initial reaction is a small jerk of his head, he’s stunned. He didn’t expect that reaction from me. I surprised him and it feels good. He’s looking straight in my eyes and I know I’m shooting daggers out of them. His little spiel totally creeped me out but left me with more questions than anything, so I still sit here waiting- for what exactly, I’m not sure.
“I just think your beautiful Aby too beautiful to have such sad eyes. I didn’t mean to offend you. I come here most everyday too and I see you here. That’s all.” He states as a matter of fact.
“I uh… oh.” That’s all I manage to say to him, I'm completely caught off guard. I’ve never noticed him before. I look around the shop at all of the people in here and realize I don’t know anyone in here. I don’t pay any attention. I’m so wrapped up in my little cocoon that I’m oblivious to everyone and everything around me. I come in here and watch out the window and shut the rest of the world out. The girl at the front counter I see almost every day, but I don’t even know her name. I have such few friends and most live back in my hometown. I don’t socialize much only a get together here and there with co-workers but that’s about it. We sit together in silence for a few minutes both of us watching out the window. I wonder what else he’s observed but I don’t have the nerve to ask him and I’m curious to know what he thinks of me but a larger part of me is scared to know. After a few silent minutes I turn from the window and look back at him. He looks me in the eyes and whatever he sees in them seems to relax him a bit. He smiles softly and then reaches across the table and lays his hand on my hand. The gesture surprises me but I don’t move my hand away, instead I look down at it noticing the contrast between my pale skin and the tanned, glow of his, how large they are and warm they are and how I don’t mind one bit that he is touching me. Suddenly, I’m not so angry anymore. “Thank you...for saying that I’m beautiful.” I smile, a slight, nervous smile and then realize immediately this is the smile he regarded. It’s weak and a little sad. My smile drops and then all at once it hits me. He is right. I am sad, all of the time. I’ve just gotten so used to it. When is the last time I really smiled? When’s the last time I laughed? When is the last time I did something that I really enjoyed?
My eyes and my posture must catch up with my thoughts because as if he can read me like a book he says, “Can I show you something?” He squeezes my hand reassuringly and smiles a big, bright, beautiful smile that lights up his eyes and warms my heart. Then he stands up. “Let’s go.”
I don’t immediately move, I stay seated trying to comprehend what he’s saying. I feel deflated and I don’t want to get up, I don’t want to do anything at all. We just got our coffee, we just sat down. There’s uneaten Danishes on the table. Where does he want to go and more importantly do I trust this man I literally just met, enough to go with him? I don’t know him. I don’t even know if I like him.
He senses my hesitation and says, “I want to take you to my favorite place, it’s not far and we can walk there.” The logical side of me tells me not to go. I don’t know him and it’s not a smart idea to take off with a complete stranger but then the side of me that is so tired of always doing and saying the right thing wants to go. I want to follow him. I want to see what he wants to show me. There is something about him that’s drawing me in and for some reason I can’t walk away. I take a long, reluctant breath and then rise from my seat. I take his hand, grab my purse and decide to follow Javier.
Javier
Smile
2.
I could have just said excuse me and walked away. I just chose not to. I didn’t want to. I want to know this girl. I want to see her smile. I’m tired of watching from a distance. She is so incredibly beautiful and yet she has no idea. This was probably not the best idea, but then again I never really think things through. I just do what makes me happy and I have a feeling this girl is going t
o do just that.
Take a Chance
3.
Before we walked out of the shop Javier had the girl from the front counter put the left over Danishes in a box to go. He hadn’t eaten much of it and I expected him to put it away in his car before we left but he continued to carry it as we walked hand in hand down the storefront walk way. After about a block or so he turned down a narrow alleyway. I startled and stopped in my tracks inadvertently yanking Javier back. I didn’t feel safe going down the alley and didn’t like the fact he tried to take me down there.
He turned back to me and said, "Just a sec” as he dropped my hand and continued to walk. Halfway down the alley Javier stopped and approached an old, homeless man. They exchanged a few words that I couldn’t quite make out and then he handed the box of left overs to him. The man gratefully took the box and I could hear him mutter “God bless you” about a dozen times as he brashly tore it open and began devouring the breads. When Javier caught up to me we continued our walk and I watched that man from the corner of my eye lick his fingers and consume every crumb until I couldn’t see him anymore. Javier never mentioned his good deed nor said a word about the old man, apparently didn’t see any reason to. But his kindness and generosity moved me. A sense of peace washed over me and all apprehension fell away. I respected him deeply for the thoughtfulness he had shown. And I knew in my gut that I would be safe with this man.
We continued to walk together and make small talk as we went. I thought I knew this town pretty well but quickly realized how wrong I was. I had moved here seven years ago at 21 fresh out of college and took a job as an auditor for our state Medicaid plan. My dad was a doctor and had a lot of indigent patients that had only state issued insurance. He used to tell me all the time about government cutbacks for physician services and blamed it on narcissistic doctors submitting fraudulent claims. I decided when I was 10 years old that I was going to catch those bad doctors so that patients would get the care they deserved. It wasn’t until I actually started the job that I realized how insanely boring it was and decided I hated it. But I was comfortable and made a decent living and continued to do the best and most efficient work I could. After all, I did work hard to get where I was and I believe that my dad would have been really proud.