Francine too a small sip of her Long Island Iced Tea and glanced around the hotel's small bar. An older couple sat at one of the tables, talking quietly and laughing together. Two men, both in their mid-forties sat at another table talking about football over a pitcher of beer. Another table was occupied by an older woman and a younger man, heads together, whispering into each other's ears. The bartender, a man in his late fifties or very early sixties was hanging glasses in the rack over the bar. Francine was the only other patron.
Francine was supposed to be in Los Angeles by now, but her flight had been delayed, then canceled until the snowstorm that was now burying Denver cleared up enough to open the airport back up. Francine and the other passengers were staying at the hotel until the airline notified them when their flight was rescheduled.
Francine twisted the engagement ring on her finger as she thought about David, her fiancée. He had been against this trip, not understanding her desire to visit Nina when their wedding was only four weeks away. He had even warned her of the possibility of encountering problems with the weather, and when that failed, had even resorted to trying to frightening her by rehashing 9-11 and events since that day. But Francine was not detoured by his tactics. She had to get away, find time to think. The closer the wedding, the more doubts she's been having. She and David had known each other since the third grade. They had remained friends through high school, never dating each other, officially, but always there for each other when one or the other of them was between "steadies," and even going to different collages, they had stayed in touch, both moving back to Wichita after college.
David was in sales for a farm equipment company and Francine was teaching third grade. They had more or less gravitated into dating each other the last couple of years, and getting engaged seemed the most logical next step. Francine didn't think he'd ever proposed, just got her the ring earlier that year for her birthday and assumed the engagement was a done thing between them. Francine hadn't bothered to deny his assumption, willing to fall into the future their families and friends surmised awaited the two of them.
Nina, now living in California, was the only one who called into question Francine's passive acceptance of the future as David saw it. Francine needed to spend time with her friend, away from David, away from her family who would think she was certifiable if she backed out at this late date. Yes, Nina who knew Francine even better than David did would be her sounding board, if, that is, she ever made it to Los Angeles.
The sound of shattering glass and voices raised in anger startled her out of her thoughts. She swung her head around and stared at the older woman and younger man who had been sitting at the table closest to the bar. The man was standing, a drink dripping from his hair and face, his shirt wet. A glass lay broken next to his chair. The woman was huddled in the chair, her head bowed, her chin sunk into her chest, shoulders shaking with obvious sobs. The man threw money down on the table, hurled a few insults at the cringing woman, and stalked out of the bar. The other patrons looked away as the woman continued to cry quietly. Francine found herself wondering about the relationship between the angry young man who had stalked out of the bar and the older woman now trying to wipe the tears from her face and get herself back into control. If Francine had thought of them at all before the outburst, she would have assumed they were mother and son. Now she was not sure. Would a Mother have reacted so violently to her child as to dash a drink in his face, and would a son have spoken aloud the insults he had hurled at the woman before leaving the bar? Francine shrugged, and turned away from the woman, taking another sip of her drink and returning to her own musings about her own problem of her relationship with David.
Half an hour later, Francine's drink gone, she decided to go up to her room and get some sleep. She knew there would be no flights out until some time later that day, if at all. She wasn't all that tired, but the bar was ready to close. As she rose from her chair she noticed that, other than herself and the bartender, the only other person in the room was the older woman who sat, an elbow on the table, her head bowed , propped in her hand. Francine started to leave the bar, then halted, undecided for a moment before she turned back to the woman. As Francine paused at the side of the table, the woman looked up, her eyes still shimmering with unshed tears, a look of utter weariness and even defeat, marring a face lovely even in distress. "Excuse me for intruding, but are you all right?" Francine asked in her soft voice. The woman looked at her, startled momentarily. "Is there any way I can help you?" Francine queried.
The woman obviously recognized Francine's genuine concern because she once again wiped her eyes and spoke. "Thank you, but no. My friend and I have had a disagreement and parted ways. I just need to gather my thoughts, then get a room for myself as we were sharing one and he has informed me that he is retaining it for himself."
