Page 25 of Miles. Alton & The 9:04
“Six would be perfect,” she told him.
“Six it is, and I'll take care of the car for you as well this weekend,” he offered.
“You don't have to do that,” she said softly.
“I don’t, but I shall.See you Friday,” Thom said and ended the call.
Mae drove to the West Loop apartment complex where she lived in a box, paying too much rent with other rats in a maze.The stylish apartment was the ideal height of success for her at one point, and now it simply meant living in a decorated cage that came from a boxed store.
Instead of watching television, she ended up on her tablet, looking at Pinterest pages on home decor.It took her a few moments to realize what she was doing, but she was decorating the Thom's house.She imagined a boho country chic look for the home with hearty textiles and color coordinated but not matching patterns.
“What are you doing, Mae?”she said out loud, continuing to search and save items to her boards.“Maybe I was sent there to show me that what I thought I was pleased having in my life is showing me that I'm not content with my existence here at all.”
****
FRIDAY ARRIVED WITHThom Brown packing the old Subaru with items he never expected for a sexy weekend.He wasn't sure about her jest with the mini train engines, and for good measure, he packed three, thought better of it, and added three more.He also added a container of peanut butter, his car care kit, black touch up paint for Audi vehicles and a really good wax for her vehicle.
“Well, if nothing else, it will be interesting,” he said, pulling out of the garage and heading for the interstate.
He opted to not drive his Jeep after having lived in Chicago for several years.No one wanted to steal a Subaru, which is why he still had it, and the faithful Forrester had nearly 300,000 miles and ran like a dream.As he drove, he thought of the number of after-hours and speakeasy jazz spots throughout the city that the day dwellers knew nothing about that came to life when the clock struck 2 a.m.In his heart, he thought of trying to impress Mae by taking her to a spot he was certain she was unaware existed since only the old jazz heads frequented it.It was where Mateo would drag him for jam sessions when he and Chambers Claypool were in town.He smiled all the way up the road, thinking of the days he went into work smelling like stale smoke, brown liquor and questionable life choices.Thom also figured it was the reason most people on the job didn't mess with him since he looked one way but small inconsistencies in his behavior leaned toward him living a nefarious life.It didn't bother him much.He was never the corporate type, anyway.He simply ticked the boxes to go on to what was next.
In his life, a partner to travel the rest of the journey ranked high on his list.He wanted to tick the next box, but there was information needed to fill those sections.So many things, so few things, so much he didn't know about Mae Weston.
“Shit, I never asked what kind of music she liked,” he said, frowning.“I never asked a lot of things since her visit was to find out about me and my plans.”
In his office, on the BNSF computer, he went to the company website, going to employees and entering her name in a database search.Mae's face came up with the name Mary A.E.Weston, Director, Philanthropy.He had figured as much, sitting back during her visit and not impeding the woman doing her job.This weekend was a different animal.
He arrived on time and found a guest parking spot in front of the building.Habit and big city living had taught him to leave nothing in the vehicle of value or otherwise.His weekender had wheels.The buffing and polishing kit came with its own bag, and the other goodies, he stashed in a shopper.He rode to the sixth floor, found apartment 623, and tapped lightly on the door.A voice called out and he waited patiently.
Thom kept his word, wearing a black suit, lavender shirt, and coordinating mottled tie.He always wore a hat because of the ear, which was partially covered in his favorite Trilby.
“You're looking mighty fine there, Mr.Brown,” she said, opening the door wide.
Mae Weston, in a colorful, flowing knee length dress, nearly stopped his heart.The box braids were gone.Light brown natural hair hung loosely to her shoulders and just a smidgen of lip color on her lips made Thom want to chunk all the goodies to the side and go for what he knew.
“You're looking very lovely.The hair is nice.Love the colors of the dress,” he said, rolling past her.“The perfume is nice as well.You smell absolutely wonderful.”
“Thank but, what's all that?Are you planning to move in and didn't tell me?”she asked blushing furiously, looking at the bags.
Thom rolled the luggage and items to the counter.He showed her first the buffing kit for her vehicle to remove the scratches.From the shopper, he pulled out a bouquet of fragrant flowers, a box of decadent chocolates, and a hundred-dollar bottle of red wine.
“Okay, Sir,” she said, smiling.The smile only widened when he removed a jar of peanut butter and six mini trains.Her mouth grew wide.“No, you didn't.”
“Hey, Mr.Brown comes prepared,” he said, smiling.“Come here, beautiful, and kiss me.”
“I'm afraid if I kiss you, the food might get cold,” she said.
“All things in time,” he offered, “plus, I have been thinking about that deep dish for four hours and I really want that pie.”
“Well, that is disappointing,” she said.“I was hoping you were ready to dive into my...wait.What am I saying?I’m embarrassed.”
“Don't be, my lovely lady.We eat, talk about what is happening on your job, and why someone is threatened enough to scratch up your vehicle,” he said.“I find out what kind of music you like, we put some of that on, polish off most of this wine, and end the evening in each other's embrace.”
“I like your approach,” she said, cocking her head, appreciating the nuance.“Not aggressive.You're not making me feel like a jump off or a jump on...I like you.”
“I'm a man working for my future, Mary.The moment I saw you on that train, pulling into my station, I knew.I just have to be cool,” he said, removing the hat, allowing it to roll down his arm and catching it in his hand.“I have to move slowly, to let you feel me out, to see if I feel good to you.”
“To see if you feel good to me,” she repeated, looking at his mouth.
