William Mallory had been in more airports than he could count, but this was his first time in a train station. If it had been any other time of the year, the place would likely have been far less crowded than your typical airport concourse, but this close to Christmas it was well packed with holiday travelers.
"Excuse me..." he said, narrowly avoiding a fellow passenger while fishing inside his jacket pocket for the cell phone that was buzzing against his chest.
He winced when he saw who was calling and took a deep breath before he answered.
"Hello, Mom."
"Billy? Where are you it sounds so loud?"
"I'm at the train station, Mom."
"Train? Why aren't you flying back? I need you here now. The bastard took all our records, Billy, even the one Robert Plant autographed for me at the Monterey Rock Festival. That was my fucking album, Billy!"
"I'm sorry, Mom, the flights were all booked. This was the best I could do. It will just take one day, and I'll be back."
"In a plane, you would have been here in a few hours. I need you right now, Billy. This whole thing is turning into such a mess."
The further he walked into the station, the louder the crowd around him became. William pressed his phone tighter to his ear, trying to pick out his mother's voice from the cacophony that was rapidly surrounding him.
"You need to speak up, Mom, it's getting hard to hear."
"I need your help," she said at a higher volume.
"You understand that I can't represent you right?"
"Why not?"
"Look, I'm happy to give you legal advice, but how do you expect me to remain objective when you're divorcing Dad? It's called a conflict of interest."
"Well...We can talk about that when you get here...Please come home as soon as you can..."
"I promise I'm on my way. I need to go. My trains boarding."
"O.K., I love you."
"Love you too."
William put away his phone, shaking his head and looking toward the Heavens for divine guidance. He had told his mom a little lie about the plane flights. There were some available, but he had decided at the last minute to take a train back instead. He felt he needed the time to think and prepare himself for what was ahead. The dissolution of his parent's thirty-year marriage hadn't exactly come out of nowhere. The signs had been there for years, especially since he had left home after college. The slow deterioration of decades of marital bliss had started with the growing indifference between two people who at one time, had been attached at the hip. He hadn't born witness to every moment, but he had often received a blow by blow account from his mother right up until the revelation that his dad was seeing another woman. That gut punch had left no doubt that things at the Mallory household were in a mess of shit to be sure.
He had been at a legal conference in Havensport when the news had reached him. The whole thing had been the typical boring review of upcoming changes in divorce and estate law which were his specialties, but right now he almost longed to be back there such boredom being infinitely preferable to caught in this showdown between his parents. A part of him desperately wished he had some siblings to share the misery with, but he was an only child.
A queue was forming at the platform to board, and William fell in line glancing around at the crowd when someone jostled him from behind almost making him drop his carry on bag. He turned in annoyance to address what turned out to be a young woman.
"Careful," he said, "we're all going to the same place there's no hurry."
"Sorry, I was looking at my phone. I should have been paying more attention."
This kind of behavior always annoyed William. There were too many people walking the streets with their eyes glued to their phones oblivious to the world around them. Then again, this was the holidays, and one should forgive at Christmas.
"It's fine," he lied.
She smiled up at him, a gentle drawing back of pink lips from perfectly even white teeth.
"The platform isn't usually this busy," she observed.
He thought he caught a faint hint of an accent in her voice, a bit of a Scottish burr mixed in with her flat mid-western tones.
"This is my first time on a train. I usually fly."
"Oh! You'll love it then, much more comfortable than being shoved in a metal tube and shot through the sky."
"You travel by train a lot?" he asked.
The question gave her pause, and William studied her more closely while he awaited her answer. He had to admit; she was rather attractive in a girl-next-door kind of way. About five-foot-five-inches tall, with sandy-brown hair cut short around an oval-shaped face, and light green eyes that were lively and seemed to sparkle in the bright lights of the station. It was difficult to tell much about her body with the long coat she was wearing, but her legs looked slender and muscular sticking out of the bottom.
"Not as much as I would like, but I prefer it to flying."
The line lurched forward suddenly as the train doors opened, and William turned back around to make his way ahead. He quickly lost track of the young lady who had tried to run him down in the sea of people trying to board but was too caught up in his travel pains to worry about it.
One of the few advantages to being an over-worked, single lawyer was having more disposable income than most, and William had decided there was no reason not to travel in comfort, so he had booked himself a first-class sleeper car for the night. His cabin attendant acquainted him with the available amenities while he stowed his travel bags.
"Thanks," he said, tipping the shorter man generously.
"Very kind of you, sir. If there's anything, you need ring me."
William was grateful when he vanished back out the door, shutting it behind him. The way things were going, the only thing William felt he needed was some privacy. He sat down on the bed, catching a brief look at himself in the mirrored closet door opposite. People always told him he looked like his dad, and he supposed he could see the resemblance, both men were tall at six-foot and change with dark brunette hair and thick eyebrows over hazel eyes that more than a few women had told him lent his face a kind and gentle aspect.
The train was comfortably warm, and he stripped off his jacket, removing his phone first, before hanging it in the closet in front of him. He started to sit back down when his phone buzzed in his hand.
"Speak of the Devil..." he muttered, pressing the button to connect the call.
"Hey, Dad."
"Billy...I...Um..."
His Dad hated to talk on phones and always seemed at a loss for words. In person, you could hardly get him to shut up.
"William."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I go by William now, Dad. I have since college, but you and Mom keep insisting on calling me, Billy."
"It's your name."
"I know that, but it's a kids name, and I'm not a kid."
Silence on the other end of the line.
"You've spoken to your mother."
"Yes," he said tightly.
"I was hoping to talk to you first. I'm guessing you're pissed at me right now."
"Why would I be pissed? Just because you cheated on Mom with a barmaid. Why in the world would that piss me off?" replied William in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Look, Billy...William. There was more too it than that, but I'm not proud of my behavior. I want you to know...Well...That I know what I did was wrong. I wish I could take it back."
"Why did you take the Led Zeppelin album? Mom, says you raided the records, and it was hers."
"Raided! I stopped by to pick up a few things since your Mom ordered me out of the house and, yes, I took the album, but he autographed it to both of us. I don't know where she gets off saying..."
"Dad! I'm not up for this conversation right now. I've been awake since early this morning at a conference, and now I'm just trying to get home."
"I understand. I just wanted you to hear my side of things before you rush to judgment."
"We'll have plenty of time to talk when I get home. I need to rest."
"Fine, Son. We can talk when you're back in town. Travel safe..."
"Right...Sure, Dad."
William sat down again, sighing deeply. He tried laying on the bed, closing his eyes, but as the train lurched into motion, he found that he couldn't slow the thoughts that raced around inside his head. After a short time, he sat up again swinging his legs onto the floor and deciding that perhaps a stiff drink might halt the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to drown him.
The lounge was already half-full with people some occupying the many couches that ran along both sides of the car, and more standing at the long bar sipping drinks. William ordered a bourbon straight up and took a hefty swallow letting the alcohol burn its way down his throat.
"So...We meet again," said an accented female voice.
Without realizing it, William had closed his eyes while the bourbon made its journey to his stomach, and when he opened them, he found the same woman from the platform standing next to him. She had removed her long coat, and he could now see that she was trim with decent sized breasts, not overly large, but substantial enough to make make the blouse she was wearing swell outward. The shirt was cut low so that he could see a gold chain hanging around her slender neck dangling down into the valley formed by her firm mounds.
"So we do," said William coughing slightly, "You following me, Lady?"
She chuckled favoring him with the same brilliant smile as before, "Do I look like the stalker type?"
"You look safe, but those are always the ones you have to keep an eye on."
"I can assure you I'm only here for the wine," she replied, waving for the bartender.
She claimed the glass he returned with from the top of the bar sipping at it gingerly while eying the one in William's hand.
"Kind of early in the day for the hard stuff isn't it? It's not even dinner time yet."
"It's been that kind of day..." he said his voice trailing off as he took another drink.
"I'm Fiona Stewart by the way, and sorry again for trying to run you over."
"William Mallory and no harm done. You're not nearly big enough to present a hazard."
"So, William Mallory, what brings you out into the world today?"
"On my way home from a conference in Havensport."
"Sales? Technology?"
"Legal, I'm an attorney," he said, leaning on the bar and shifting his glass to his other hand.
"What sort?" she asked casually.
"I started out doing estate law, but I switched to divorce."
"That would explain the drinking in the middle of the day. I imagine that isn't the most fun line of work, seeing people at their worst all the time."
"No, but it can be lucrative, and somebodies got to do it."
"I hear a bit of jaded cynicism in your voice, William."
"You're right; it can be a drag at times."
"Is that why you're downing whiskey at three in the afternoon?"
