I would like to take time to thank all those who read, voted and commented on my first submission, "The Gift." I learned something from every comment, even those that weren't so positive. Many commenters said I needed an editor, so I took their advice. I want to thank HMauthor for all the help and guidance provided. Their knowledge of English, grammar and punctuation are excellent. Responses were quick and accurate. When I saw the number of corrections made I am sure they turned this from something barely readable into something I hope you will enjoy. I never knew I could make so many mistakes! I would like to clear up some questions that were asked by the commenters. Besides a very short story not seen by anyone, "The Gift" really was my first submission anywhere. The second question, who was the girl in the date scene? In my mind it was Grace. I tried to put some clues in; would any woman on a date allow her date to talk with women she didn't know? She also seemed to understand what he was going through. With that finished I hope you will enjoy my next story called ...
It was six o'clock Monday morning. I was backing my car out of our garage on my way to catch the six forty five train to my job in Manhattan. We lived in the small suburban community of Nassau Shores on the south shore of Long Island, just outside New York City. I stopped in the driveway to make sure the garage door closed before I pulled away from the house. The one time I forgot to check was two weeks ago. I received a phone call at work from an incensed Loren accusing me of not caring about her. Anyone could have walked in and attacked or murdered her while I was gone. Of course I knew she was right, and I explained I just forgot and would make sure I would not forget again.
That calmed her down some but she still went on and on about how careless I had been. Didn't I care about her at all? How stupid could I be? I tried to calm her down reminding her that I had not done it in the three years we lived in the house and I would definitely make sure not to do it again. The last two weeks she seems to still be holding the mistake against me. Things have been decidedly cool at our house and for the life of me I could not figure out why she was still having these feelings toward me.
My name is Jeff Carlson and my wife is Loren. I am twenty-seven years old. I am five foot eight inches tall. I have light brown hair that I wear long but not long enough to put in a pony tail and have a closely cropped beard. I run the foreign exchange desk at one of the largest commercial banks in the country. In effect we take advantage of the constantly shifting values of currencies around the world. The basic idea is to buy a currency low and when the value increases to sell and make a profit. It's an occupation not for the faint of heart. In essence we are gambling with the banks money. It calls for a very refined sense of intuition and good timing.
Buying too soon or too late or selling too soon or too late could cost the bank hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe even millions. The reason I received two promotions in the last two years is that my intuition is very good. Somehow I can see when to buy and sell. I don't understand how my mind does it. Just looking at the trends I get a feeling it is right to buy or sell and my guesses have been right most of the time. The few times I guessed wrong did not matter when the bank execs figured out how many millions of dollars I actually made for them over the last four years.
Loren is also twenty-seven, although a few months older than me. She stands five foot six with jet-black hair worn just below her shoulders. She has a round face with soft Italian features. With her olive Mediterranean skin she is visually striking to look at. At least I think so. I may be prejudiced. She has smallish boobs, 34B with a thin waist, nice butt, not too big, not too small. She works locally in Huntington NY, a town situated on the North Shore of Long Island approximately twenty five minutes from our home. She works for a national medical insurance carrier. They are part of FEHBP. They provide medical insurance coverage to federal and state employees.
Most of her job is in the office in Huntington but sometimes they go to gatherings of many insurers and deal directly with employees to try to entice them to sign up during the "open season". She has been there for two years now.
Her direct supervisor is Jim Beckman. She has been working for him since she was hired. I have met him once or twice at company functions in the past two years. One was a Christmas Party and the other a company picnic. He was bigger than me, at six foot two inches tall and every bit over 200 lbs. It is quite obvious he works out regularly. He never did anything, but I just did not like him. Something bothered me about him. It was my intuition acting up again. There was something out of place and it bothered me. But not that much to make me mention it to Loren.
As I watched the garage door close I tuned my satellite radio to the Country Western music station. The songs there were a little darker, just the right thing to match my mood. They sang about real things, failed marriages, unrequited love and cheating spouses. As I drove down the street the first song was about some guy who loved his bar. Catchy tune but I did not get it. I came to a red light and stopped the car when the second song came on. As I sat at the light it seemed as my eyes were opened for the first time in a long time.
The singer sang about the same things that were going on in my marriage with Loren. The staring out the window, seemingly not being in the same room, little slights, and sex that was most unsatisfying. I did not realize it but I was sitting at the light with my mouth hanging open listening to the song when the cars in back of me stated honking there horns. I looked up and saw the green light and started moving forward. I crossed the street pulling into a shopping center parking lot. I sat and listened to the rest of the song play, then started going to the train station. I must have been on auto-pilot as I do not remember driving there.
I caught the earlier six thirty train to Pennsylvania Station. As I sat on the train I thought back to when I first met Loren. It was July right after my sixteenth birthday. I would be a junior in high school when school was back. I was mowing the front yard for my dad when a moving van pulled into the driveway of the Millers house two doors down. Old man Miller had died last year. Mrs. Miller was a nice but frail woman. One of her children lived two towns over and wanted her to live with them. Consequently the house was put up for sale. I watched as a new BMW followed close behind the moving van.
At the time I did not know their names but Mr. Frank Schiavo got out the drivers side door and his wife Cheryl got out the passenger door. Emerging behind her from the rear seat was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Loren Schiavo was a few months older than me. Her hair was cut short giving her a pixyish look. She wore tight denim short shorts and a halter-top that showed her tanned midriff. She looked over at me and gave me a smile. For me it was love at first sight.
A few days later after the move was complete I was casually walking down the street when I saw that Loren was sitting outside with her mom. I don't know where I got up the nerve to go over and introduce myself to them. Cheryl Schiavo was a beautiful woman in her own right. Loren was a miniature of her mom. Mrs. Schiavo was smart enough to know that I really didn't want to talk with her and went inside to get some iced tea for us to drink. After giving us the tea she went back inside leaving us sitting on the stoop talking. I am sure that she listened in to our conversation while we sat on the front step.
We got along great, and for the rest of that summer I would hang with Loren every day. I filled her in on the school we would both attend in the fall. There was no hugging, kissing or sex. To be quite frank I was still a virgin and very shy. I was just happy to be in her company.
July became August and then school began. We were not in the same homeroom and were not in any of the same classes but we did eat lunch together and ride the same bus home each day. After only a week at school I found out that the school was holding a Harvest dance in the middle of October.
The next day was Saturday and I saw Mrs. Schiavo and Loren come home from food shopping. I went down to their home to help bring in the groceries. After the last bag was brought in I asked Loren if she would accompany me to the dance. She glanced at her mom and said yes. Her mom smiled. I found out later she really liked me and thought I would be good for her daughter.
As September slipped by into October I began seeing less of Loren than before. She had made new friends with the cheerleaders. I knew she wanted to be a cheerleader from conversations we had during the summer, and she was doing this to get a spot on the squad. I did see her every day on the bus and we always sat together and talked.
Finally the big day came. I was going to get to show off "my girl" to all the guys at school. I am sure none of them thought that a girl like Loren would be with a nerd like me. My dad drove us to the school, as I was still too young to get a license. As we entered the dance I saw some guys from the football team look over at us, and some of them smirked and laughed among themselves. I wondered what that was all about but decided to forget it, and went to sit with my friends and have some fun. We had danced a few times and were sitting a few out when a slow song began playing.
Before I could ask Loren to dance, Billy Barber, the star linebacker was there with his hand out saying to Loren, "Let's go babe, it's time for everyone to know who you're really here with." Loren popped out her seat and walked away without a backward glance. I sat there with my mouth open. I looked around at my friends and asked, "What just happened?"
My friend Jack said, "It looks like you just got dumped." I looked at Loren and Billy and they were glued together as they danced to a slow number. Her hands were around his neck while his were around her waist. It became apparent this was not the first time they had danced together. I could feel the color rush to my face. I felt so ashamed; I'd been made to play the fool.
When the dance ended Billy and Loren walked over to the football team's tables. When they sat down Billy had his arm wrapped possessively around her shoulders. Billy Barber was one of the biggest guys in school. I knew I could not best him in a physical confrontation. I could do nothing but sit in my seat. I looked at the football team and they were all looking at me and laughing. Loren at least did not turn around and join them in making a mockery of me.
I sat at the table for most of the night, I wanted to run out of there but I would not give them the satisfaction.
