Spaghetti

Spaghetti by Einen Lee

Hannah was in her painting studio when she heard a knock at the front door.

"Ugh. Why can't people stop interrupting me!" She put down her brush and went to open the door. "May I help you?"

"Yeah. I just need a signature for this letter."

"OK." She signed her name on the card and closed the door behind the exiting mailman. "Who's this from?" she pondered as she sauntered back to her studio.

She turned the letter over in her hand to read the return address. "Reedsport. Who do I know in Reedsport?" Hannah reached for her letter opener and slid it beneath the flap of the envelope. It sliced open raggedly, as if the paper resisted. She pulled the enclosed letter from its pocket and began to read.

"Dear Abigale,

I am so sorry how we left things last time. I really do care for you. I just have this sense in me that there is someone else I am supposed to be with. I can't explain it. It's like I know her face, the way she laughs, even the look in her eyes. But I don't know who she is! I'll be back in town on September 12th if you want to meet me at the "Drop Inn".

Your friend, Martin"

"How did this letter get addressed to here? I don't know any Abigale. I don't know any Martin either." She looked at the post date. It was yesterday, from Reedsport, two cities down the coast. "Well, I guess I'll have to meet him, so he knows she never got the letter. The 12th was Saturday. She decided she would meet this unknown Martin on the evening of the 12th at the Drop Inn on 3rd Street. "What should I wear? I don't know how old this guy is. Besides, I couldn't be the girl he's dreaming of. No one takes notice of my laugh, or even looks at my face or into my eyes. If only! I guess a sedate dress would be the most proper. If he was an older man, he would think she were older and believe what she had to tell him. And if he were younger, he would think she was sophisticated and believe she wouldn't be pulling his leg. She giggled and thought to herself 'wouldn't it be funny if I just started pulling his leg? He'd think I was crazy!' She went to her closet and pulled out her best dresses. One was a lovely floral dress with tulip sleeves, a scoop neck and a matching belt. She had some red pumps to go with that. The second was the proverbial 'little black dress' that every woman must have. She would make her final decision tomorrow. It was now time to have some food and ready herself for work the next day.

Bzzzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Hannah turned off the alarm on her bedside clock. "Ah! I hate mornings." She rolled herself up to a seated position on the edge of the bed and rubbed her face. With another groan she rolled forward, elbows on her knees and head in her hands. She had slept poorly thinking about the man named Martin. She imagined him to be 5'10" tall, well-formed, a fabulous left-sided grin and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Of course, none of her daydreams about men had ever come to fruition, so why should this one? He's probably 45 years old, with a pot belly, smoking a cigar with bleary brown eyes. A man of no distinction and definitely not for her!

"Hi, Hannah! What ya got planned this weekend? Wanta get together?" Flora bounced her way into the office while removing her coat with the fur collar.

"I'm kinda busy, how about lunch sometime next week?"

"Sure!"

"Perfect. We’ll make a plan on Monday!" Hannah took the elevator to the 4th floor. As she made her way to her desk, she noticed Mr. McKinley had someone new in his office. The firm had been searching for a new marketing rep. Maybe this was a new hire. With that thought she dismissed it from her mind and began her work. At noon she reheated her lunch in the microwave and sat on the couch to look out the window. Mr. McKinley was chatting just outside the door. As Hannah turned her gaze in that direction, she choked on the spaghetti just as she put it in her mouth. There in the doorway was her dream man! It couldn't be! 5'10" tall: check, well-formed: oh, yeah!, a fabulous left-sided grin (was her mouth open? was that spaghetti she felt on her chin?) and the blue eyes? Dynamite!

"Hannah, I would like to introduce you to our new marketing director, Martin Montgomery."

"Nice to meet you, Hannah!" Ooo, that grin!

"Ughm. Sorry, spaghetti. Nice to meet you too!" Ooo, those blue eyes!

I am so embarrassed. What a mess. He'll never give me a chance. No way.

"No worries. I love spaghetti." Mr. McKinley led him off to meet other people in the lunchroom.

This has to be a dream - a regular daytime nightmare like the rest of my life. And what's with the name Martin appearing out of the blue twice in two days? It's one of those tricks of fate where something happens three times in a row.

Hannah went back to her desk with a fresh cup of coffee and a determination to think positively. It had always kept her on track before. But this train had blue eyes and a left-sided smile!

Luckily, she did not see the new Martin again that day. A reprieve until Monday.

Saturday dawned with clear skies and warm Fall sunlight filtering through the trees outside her window. Today was catch up day: laundry, vacuuming, washing the dishes stacked in the sink. Boring. Halfway through her chores she remembered her self-appointed meeting in the evening. She decided wearing the 'little black dress' was too depressing, so she chose the floral swing. She dressed when the time drew near, curled her hair for good measure and wore earrings. Lipstick? Just a touch. The Drop Inn was only a few blocks from her house, so she walked. The sun was just setting so she brought a shawl for the walk home.

"Excuse me. Is there a Martin registered here? I'm sorry I don't know his last name."

"Let me check the register. Yes, we do. He is currently in the restaurant, just down the hall to your left."

"Thank you." Hannah squared her shoulders, took a calming breath and went into the restaurant. There, to her great astonishment, was Martin Montgomery! Could he be the same Martin?

"Hannah! What a lovely surprise!" Martin smiled to his left, and his eyes glittered.

"Martin! This is a surprise!" She gripped the back of the chair to steady herself. "I realize this is a very strange question, but do you know a woman by the name of Abigale?"

Martin looked at her quizzically. "Yes, I do."

"And did you recently write her that you would be in town, here, tonight?"

"Yes, I did."

"I don't know how it happened, but your letter came to my house, and I read it. I just wanted you to know that she never got the letter."

"That was kind of you. Won't you sit down?"

"Uh, sure. Thanks."

"I'm not disappointed that Abigale never got my letter." He leaned closer. "I am quite pleased, actually, that it went to you! Because now you are here. Mr. McKinley swept me away so fast, I was sorry I couldn't talk with you further."

"Oh, no bother! I'm sure there are other people more interesting to talk to!"

"On the contrary. I want to talk to you. I think it is you who I described in my letter to Abigale. I know your smile. I remember your face, and I've swum in your eyes somewhere before."

Hannah was stunned. Could he really mean that? Was he pulling HER leg? "I don't know what to say. I... When Mr. McKinley introduced us I... I had imagined you from the letter exactly as you are! Are we on candid camera?" She looked around the room as if someone was playing a practical joke.

Martin reached out and covered her hand with his. An electric shock sizzled up Hannah's arm and down her spine.

"I think we were meant to meet like this. Shall we give it a try? No harm in trying..."

Hannah turned her hand over to clasp Martin's. She looked up into his eyes and smiled. "Yes. Yes, I'd like to try."

"Wonderful! Would you like a drink to celebrate? Are you hungry?"

Martin waved over the waiter who asked, "What would you like tonight?"

At the same time, they both said, "Spaghetti!"