The Meeting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A very short read about a man and his abundant life, and the twists that regular life can throw your way.

Submitted: August 01, 2008

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Submitted: August 01, 2008



George's eyelids fluttered as his pupils tried to adjust to the light. The alarm clock was blaring and the early morning sun was peaking into his bedroom window. Still half blind, he reached over and hit the switch to silence the alarm. He looked over at Amy, his wife, who still lay sleeping next to him. She was oblivious to all the commotions. George stared at her for a moment, lovingly. He couldn't believe how beautiful she was, even at her least flattering moment.

"Rise and shine beautiful. Today is the day." George blustered as he sat up straight on the edge of the bed and stretched his arms towards the ceiling. Amy muttered something quite incomprehensible and flipped over to her otherside and hid beneath the pillows. George only smiled at himself. She would be up soon enough.

After turning on the coffee pot, George took a quick shower before heading back to the kitchen. The kids would be hungry, and like everyday for the last 3 years, George had spoiled them with a hearty breakfast each morning before school. Today was no different. Eggs, toast, sausage, bacon, the works. The tantalizing aromas soon filled the quaint two story apartment and life began to stir in the bedrooms. Sinks ran with water, toilets flushed, doors slammed. George paid no attention to the noises. He was used to them. He smiled and continued his tedious work of preparing each plate just the way he knew they would like it. Amy took her eggs scrambled with bacon, but no sausage. Jason wanted the works, but with maple syrup on his eggs, and Rachel, his lovely Rachel, would want her usual egg sandwich. She was only 9 but already she had earned her older brothers' respect in the house. There were hardly ever any arguements between the two, and when there was, they were mild. Sometimes amusing. George began to whistle his favorite tune, "Hey Jude" as he cracked the last egg and set the plates at the table.

Just like clockwork, the kids bounded down the stairs, one chasing the other with Petey, the family spaniel yapping at their heels. Amy yelled at them to slow down, but only half into it. She knew it was no use. They all ended up at the table in their usual spots. They made quick work of the food without so much as muttering a word. Amy perused the morning paper that George had retrieved for her. The kids grabbed their sack lunches and backpacks. Hugs were given, kisses exchanged and well wishes all around for a good day, and George and Amy were alone in the kitchen.

George let out a light hearted sigh as he watched from the window the kids boarding the bus. He sipped his coffee and waved to the kids at the right moment, when they both turned to wave at him. The formalities of the morning now over, he could turn his attention to Amy.

"Are you nervous?" she asked as he refilled her half empty cup and sat in the chair across the table from her.

George shook his head and stared down at the wood grain. "No. I've been waiting a long time for this. I'm not going to mess it up by being nervous about it."

Amy smirked at his attempt at showing courage. She knew he would be nervous. George could sense the playfulness in her expression and looked at her with his most playful serious glare.

"Really!" he stated matter of factly, but couldn't keep from smiling at her. They both grinned.

"You'll be fine hun." Amy turned the page of her newspaper and began reading the obituaries. George rapped his fingers on the table and stared at her. He let his mind wander to the day he met Amy. How beautiful she was at their wedding. How they both loved their children so much. Their picture perfect life with their nice home and cars, fancy furniture and good jobs. He felt truly blessed sitting there, staring at her.

Amy folded the paper neatly and laid it on the table. Taking one more sip of coffee, she grabbed her attache case and headed for the sink. Looking out across the lawn, she sighed deeply.

"I wish I could be there with you today. But I know you'll be fine."

"I'll be thinking about you." He said back to her not looking up from the table.

Amy turned and headed toward the door. George followed and waited for her to open the door and turn back to him. Hugs were given, kisses exchanged.

"Have a good day at work today hun. Dinner will be waiting when you get home."

Amy smiled appreciatively and walked out the door for work. George watched from the living room window as Amy backed from the driveway. At the right moment he waved as she blew him a kiss. Now George was alone.

After a few minutes, of cleaning in the kitchen and putting a roast in the crockpot he walked up the stairs to the bedroom and into the walk-in closet. He picked out his navy blue suit with the pearl cufflinks and his best pair of shoes. It had to be perfect if he was going to be impressive. After he was dressed and satisfied with his grooming, he headed back down the stairs and out the front door to his black BMW sedan.

"It's time." George thought gleefully to himself. He couldn't help but smile. His foot weighed heavy on the gas pedal and George found it difficult to back off of the gas. So filled with anticipation, he happily weaved from one lane to the other and back again, carefully avoiding the gazes of the drivers he passed.

A few minutes later, George arrived downtown. He was praising his luck at catching all green lights and smiled to himself as his favorite song came on the radio. George hummed along with "Hey Jude" as he whipped the car into the parking garage. Again luck smiled on him as he pushed the elevator call button, only to find that the elevator was already waiting on him.

"Hmm." George muttered as he entered the car and pushed the button for the 20th floor. Soft and soothing music filled his ears as he quickly ascended the building. 9. Ding. 10. Ding. 11. Ding. George watched the numbers with intent until at last 20 flashed and the doors chimed open. George exited hurriedly and rounded the corner to the roof access door. Pushing it open and climbing the stairs two at a time, he began singing his song with his best McCartney voice. "Hey Jude. Don't be afraid." His voice carried melodically despite his rush. Finally the last door. Gravel beneath his shoes. Fresh air at his nose. George smiled wide taking his breaths in deep as he broke into a jog. "You were made to go out and get her." His feet moved faster and with seemingly a mind of their own. His arms raised toward the sky, eyes looking to the clouds, smiling broadly. The gravel was gone. "The minute you let her..."


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