(I decided to focus on holiday travel for this year's story. Enjoy. All characters having sex are over 18)
Shivering.
Walking around a pile of icy slush, I hugged my coat closer to me. Looking up at the massive spike of dark metal and glass that was once called the Sears Tower, I watched the forked top appearing and vanishing in the low clouds of this cold December day.
Shivering harder.
Despite the pain it caused me, I picked up my pace. Not that it did any good, my limp got worse after about ten steps and I had to slow back to my original limping stride. My clothing wasn't meant for a Chicago winter; given that I had never been here during that season before, I had chosen poorly.
Shivering even harder.
I'm pretty sure the entrance to the lobby of Union Station wasn't all that much warmer, but to me, it felt like a sauna when I stepped inside out the bitter cold. After a moment of simply standing there enjoying that warmth, I shouldered my bag and - with the tap of my cane a metronome rhythm on the floor -- I made my way over to the escalator and rode down into the food court. I glanced over at the blue and red sign of Jersey Mike's sub shop. My stomach growled reminding me it had been more than half a day since I last ate, but I checked the time on my watch.
"Maybe just some coffee," I muttered to myself. The cold still in my bones, another shiver ran through me and then I yawned. "Definitely some coffee."
Limping inside, I made my way to the Starbucks. The barista was the normal far-too-happy- please-switch-to-decaf-already kid in his late teens to early twenties. He looked up from his phone long enough to take my order and then vanished into the back. A more experienced-looking lady came out, smiled at me, and filled my order. Apparently a "just coffee" was out of this young man's wheelhouse to make without managerial supervision.
Looking down, as I waited, I watched a fat gray pigeon wander by.
"Well, alrighty then."
Given that even the wildlife was seeking shelter inside here in Chicago, I wondered again just how my Mom's twin sister could ever survive here. She was a native Texan just like most of our family. Texans and snow just don't go together.
I gave my coffee messiah a smile and a nod as she handed me my cup of salvation. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Have a nice day," she answered.
Not a chance.
Following the signs, I tried my best to escape the food court without any further delay, but the smell of caramel popcorn from "Nuts on Clark" made a joke of that plan. With a bag of warm sweet goodness in my jacket pocket, I now had to hurry.
Which hurt.
A second escalator ride down took me a hint closer to my destination. But not nearly close enough as far as the ache in my left leg was concerned. By the time I made it to the gate waiting room, I was wincing with each step. Dropping my bag, I eased into one of the many seats with a sigh. Hugging my bruised ribs, I took a deeper breath than normal and more or less slumped into the hard seat. Melting to conform to its ridged surface. It had been such a long day and I had long ago exceeded the limits of my pain meds.
Food. Distract from pain with food.
Moments later as I was happily munching on some of my popcorn, I saw my Aunt Christi arrive in her normal bustle and flurry. My mom's identical twin sister, but with an extra helping of sexy, you could hear the male eyeballs clicking as she walked past the other passengers. I raised my hand to attract her attention. Her smile brightened the whole room.
"Dustin!"
Levering myself to my feet with the help of my cane as she approached, I grinned and accepted the hug from her despite the pain in my ribs it caused. She must have seen me wince.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Your ribs? I forgot. How are you doing?" She gave a shake of her blonde head before I could answer. "I told your mom that there wasn't a need for you to come up here, that I could manage to get my old bones from Chicago to Texas without help!"
I smiled and shrugged. "She insisted."
My aunt shook her head. "You are still recovered from a bad car wreck - which nearly killed you! - and my sister thinks you need to go across the country twice? Fluff between her ears! Marylou has always had fluff between her ears, I swear."
"Well, she has always said you were the smarter of the two of you." Grinning, I caught up my bag.
"I could rest my case with that statement alone." Aunt Christi looked me over. "Well, you look a lot better than the photo she sent me of you in the hospital. I like the suit, by the way. Old fashion, but nice. And I love the haircut."
"Thanks, but you can blame me binge-watching Peaky Blinders while recovering." Taking my hat out of my pocket, I adjusted my flat cap, grinned at her whistle, and then looked around. "Your luggage?"
"Already checked. I left my carry-on in the Metro lounge by the gate." My mother's twin gave me a lifted eyebrow that made her look so much like her twin. "You know, I've been making this same trip every holiday since I was a little girl. It is silly that you had to come up here. Now... no let me get that!"
She tried to take my bag.
I moved it out of her easy reach. "No, I got this. It's light, a change of clothes and my shaving kit, and besides you're supposed to be recovering yourself, Aunt Christi." I returned the family eyebrow to her just to prove that I could. "Speaking of which, you look great, but how are you doing?"
"Thanks, handsome, oh I'm fine." She waved away my concern. "It was just a mini-stroke. Another pill added to the normal daily handful that I take is all that it changed. I'm fine, really. I told your mom I was good, but she wanted to fuss like a mother hen." My mom's twin wrinkled her nose. "She is more and more like our mother every day."
The vague memories of my grandmother - who passed when I was five years old - were so far back in my childhood that I couldn't reply to that one way or another.
"Hungry?" she asked.
"Starved, but I grabbed some popcorn. I'm good."
My aunt shook her head. With a roll of her eyes, she pointed across the room. "That way is the Metropolitan lounge. Here is your ticket to get in. Go wait, I'll go grab you a sandwich."
I glanced at my watch. "But the train?"
"Delayed. We're good. Get! I'll get us food." She stopped a few feet away and turned back. "By the way, Dustin, it is so good to see you."
"You, too," I said, smiling.
As I settled my bag's strap over my shoulder into a spot that didn't hurt as badly, I watched her walk away towards the escalators. Even at sixty my aunt still had that incredibly hyper-feminine hourglass shape that all the women in our family seemed to have inherited. Curvy boobs and birthing hips, Mom called it. Can't say I disagree with that description.
With a wince, I got my half-battered body moving towards the lounge.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
My coffee a distant memory, my stomach happy from the beef and cheese sandwich, I followed my aunt out the gate and down beside the long silvery train to our sleeper car. My cane's tip must have been making a tapping sound but the deep-throated rumble and roar of the many different train engines buried any such sound. The air was chilled, but there were drifts of heat coming from the trains and a smell of metal, rust, and fuel that blew past us.
"You good?" my aunt asked, when I stopped for a moment. She had a small purple carry-on bag and a tiny purse with her. If not for that she would have probably offered to take my bag again.
"I'm good. Just a lot of walking." Leaning down, I rubbed above my knee to ease the ache. I half imagined that I could feel those metal pins in my thigh. I chuckled. "It's been a long day."
"Remind me to smack your mother when we get there." She shook her head. "A three-hour plane flight - which you were insane to take by the way! - followed by the taxi ride from O'Hare, then having to walk all over this place. You could have met me at the train station in Dallas two days from now and everything would have been the same, but you would have been able to rest."
"I'll rest on the train." Taking a deep breath against the pain, I moved forward. "Lead on Macduff."
She grinned, back at me. "So I still have you reading Shakespeare? And be damned him that first cries hold enough! This way."
Earlier when we had walked down the long lobby the many Amtrak attendants had guided us out here to this platform, but my aunt had known the way just as well as any of them. The first sight of the great silvery trains had been overwhelming, and now - walking between the towering walls of silver-gray metal - I felt a bit claustrophobic. I watched the side of the train and saw the numbers for each car. I've never been happier than to see "47" in a big blocky black graffiti numbers.
Stepping across the short distance and into the train car, I followed my aunt up and around what was, luckily, a shallow set of steps. The hallway at the top however was barely shoulder wide.
"It's this one." Aunt Christi pointed through a blue curtain.
Stepping inside, I dropped my bag on the wide couch and gratefully collapsed. Immediately I had to stand back up and get out of my overcoat and then my suit jacket. The heater in the room was working overtime already. As I looked around at the small room, I listened to her happily talking to the attendant out in the hall, and then to another passenger. Looking through the door, I saw my aunt give someone a wave and then she stepped inside as I was sitting back down. She gave a quick look around and then smiled.
"I've been in this room before. Back in 82, traveling with my mom. It's been renovated, but yeah." She opened the small door beside her and I saw that it was an incredibly tiny bathroom, with a shower. "Okay, train travel bathroom etiquette. There's another communal bathroom just down the hall. If you've got to go... number two... please use that one. Also, if you are going to change your clothes either go in here..." She pointed into the small bathroom. "... or do it out here to slow sensual music."
I grinned at her flirting. Same Aunt Christi, I see.
