I haven’t posted a story onto this blog in a long time. Seeing how Valentine’s Day is this week, I have a couple of posts in mind, including a “40 Years of Memories” entry.
Anyway, today’s story was inspired by a prompt from the Flash Fiction Hive’s Twitter page. I would like to see what you Story you guys create. Anyway, here’s mine:
Waiting for Juliet
Edwin shook the rain droplets off his jacket. It came down hard in the middle of his trip to Marchelle’s. The roses were fine, even though they looked like they could use some water. Still, it was all he could afford at the last minute. The hostess removed his jacket, gripping it by the shoulders.
“Reservation for Bates?”
“Yes, sir,” the hostess exclaimed. She proceeded to direct Edwin to his table. She seated him next to a window overlooking the drenched, busy street. There was a calming effect amongst the bustle of the restaurant. The hostess stood beside his chair just as he set the bouquet onto the table.
“And how long will it be before your guest arrives?”
“Shouldn’t be much longer,” he replied as he stared at his phone. There was no response from her. He sent a message saying he just arrived.
“I’ll send a server right away.”
Edwin nodded. He grabbed the menu and took a quick glance at his options. He tapped his feet and stroked his thighs, hoping to calm himself. There was still no response from her. What was the holdup? It was unlike her to not say anything, he thought. He had only known Evelyn for one month, but the connection was there. At least, that’s what he believed. He sighed and watched the multitude of couples canoodling and kissing and holding hands. He imagined them professing their undying love, pledging to devote their heart and soul to one another.
The voice snapped Edwin from his trance. He noticed a pair of glasses filled with ice water.
“Good evening. I’m Zack and I’ll be your server. Can I get you started with some drinks?”
“Just the water for now. I’m waiting for my date.”
The server stepped away. Edwin peeked at his phone again. No reply. He was tempted to shoot another text to her. Instead, he locked the phone. But then, he thought she might be waiting for him. He stood and looked around. His head on a swivel, he searched for any sign of her wavy, copper hair. But the restaurant was so dim. The moody lights didn’t help. He plopped back down on his chair. He unlocked his phone. The impatience was setting in. He opened his Messaging app to the conversation with Evelyn. His steely eyes stared sharply at the inactivity that took place. He typed his message fervently.
“I’m still waiting. Where are you?”
His thumb hovered above the screen. He gave a second thought on sending this curious text. He set the phone down and stroked his thighs again. He felt the dew of the glass slip away from his hands. He took deep breaths. Slowly, they began to quiet him down until he reached his happy place. He flicked a quiet smile, then picked up his phone. He scanned the message he was about to send. At that moment, an ellipsis wave appeared. Edwin stared intently, waiting with anticipation for her explanation. It had to be her letting him know she was running late. The bubble popped up on his phone.
“Edwin, I’m sorry. I can’t lie to you anymore. I’m not coming tonight. I know you had something special planned, but I just don’t want to spend Valentine’s Day with you. I met someone else. Someone better. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Just know I still love you, but as a friend. Please forgive me.”
He felt something heavy drop onto his heart. He turned his phone face down. The breathing turned up in intensity. He could feel his throat starting to close in on him. It was similar to the time his mom discovered his allergy to fish sticks. He felt a swelling in his eyes, but rubbed them as to wipe away the heartache and any emotions attached to it.
The waiter appeared next to him.
“I’m afraid if your guest doesn’t arrive in the next few minutes, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We have other guests waiting.”
With those words, Edwin finished his glass of water in one large gulp.
“It’s okay, Zack. I’m leaving. She’s not coming.”
He got and walked away. The waiter picked up his bouquet.
“Sir, what about your flowers?”
“You can give them to the next guests or throw them away. I don’t care anymore.”
With that, he grabbed his jacket and ventured out into the rain.