Tempus Fugit

                                                 TEMPUS FUGIT

Alexander was late again, but she told herself that it was just the way Alexander was.

He was well built, stocky, and usually rather untidy in his dress. Even if he combed his hair constantly, it flopped annoyingly over his forehead. You never really knew what a guy looked like on line, Clara Anne decided. But something about Alexander appealed, at least, at first. Although, she noticed he was late even for their first meeting in the local coffee shop, but there was something rather nice about him. She soon discovered he was a lover of comfort in his home, successful in business, and seemed content with his own company, solid, quiet and unassuming. Not at all like the smooth talking men she'd met previously, who couldn't stop talking about the wonderful things they'd done.

Early on in their association, Clara Anne knew that Alexander's weight lifting hour was important to him, which sometimes made his schedule for other things unreliable, because he went over the allotted hour. He was often so involved in something he was doing like keeping the books in order for the household bills, filing something to do with his business now that he worked from home as an accountant, or making sure the car was running properly, he just forgot the time. Those were all the good things to find in a man, but the habit of being late irked Clara Anne and she didn't know what to do about it.

She wanted to believe that there were legitimate reasons for his tardiness in meeting with her. But she was getting tired of always missing a show, or having to sit at the back because they were late for the seats in front. And if they had purchased seats for a performance of music or ballet, it was always embarrassing to show up late, excusing your way across the row of people already seated.

Worse when they had to catch a plane. Unforgiveable really.

In the past she had given him excuses for all of his late arrivals, he was undoubtedly an introvert, too involved in the boring things at home, when he was supposed to be having adventures with her. Where was the magic with this man? The creativity she craved from him or anyone she'd dated. Humour, where was that? Nope, Alexander was not the sort of man she was looking for. He just wasn't like her. Not at all outgoing. He never would initiate a conversation at the train station or waiting for a bus, or even standing in line at a market. Not like Clara Anne, who found herself commenting on everything, wherever she was.

If she was waiting for a bus in the cold, she'd always say something to the person waiting with her, just a comment, such as, "Wow, it's freezing waiting isn't it?" Or, "You look cozy in that coat." Most people would smile at her, nod, or just agree in some way. It never dawned on her that someone might consider her nosey or a nuisance.

It wasn't unusual to say to a customer waiting in line at the grocery store, if she spied a lot of wine or beer on the counter he was buying, "Having a party are we? Can I come?"

This often produced a smile, or "sure," said casually and dismissed. Usually that was that. The other answer would be "What? Er…Humm?" Worried looks. Then she would laugh and say, "Just kidding." And that was that, but there was one time which was enough to stop her using that line of communication ever again.

The man at the counter was tall, good looking, sophisticated in his dress, and when Clara Anne noticed the expensive wine on the counter, she gave her usual line just for fun. "Oh, having a party, are we? Can I come?" The man lifted his eyes from the lady checking groceries on the counter, and gave Clara Anne a look that made her squirm inside. His eyes roamed her body from top to toe, and she shivered. He was mentally undressing her, and his words proved that to be true. "Hey, you're invited. Oh yes, I bet you could liven up the party, make some of the men happy, Yeah? A little strip-tease would definitely help this party along." Clara Anne felt a chill all around her as she said icily. "I wouldn't be seen dead at the sort of party you're talking about." The man smirked, paid for the wine and marched off, but not without looking back at her and giving her a suggestive salutation with his fingers that made her want to cry.

She checked her watch, Alexander had promised to come to shop with her. The meal was supposed to be a special birthday dinner for his friend whom shed never met, and she needed him to ask about some of the things planned on the menu. You just never knew if someone was a vegetarian, or allergic to some food or other, and she'd been embarrassed with that issue before.

Alexander hadn't found her in the store, like he usually did. Of course he was late. He'd probably forgotten. She looked around once more, checked the entrance, no Alexander. She paid for her groceries, found the car in the parking lot and opened the trunk, unaware that anyone was behind her, until the trunk was suddenly snapped shut almost trapping her hands inside. The tall good-looking man leaned over her, "I said you can come to the party, and we can go now, okay?"

Panic filled her mind as she stepped back. "Get away from me," she hissed.

"No, no. No! We'll just take these lovely groceries and put them in my car for the party. You'll have a good time, I promise you, Sweetheart." He grabbed the bag, put his other arm around her waist and then smoothed her skirt over her bottom, giving her a little pinch before moving his hand up to her waist and pushing her roughly in front of him. "Nice," he said. Clara Anne was helpless, she was small, petite, he was strong.

His car was parked just a short distance from hers, and within seconds he opened the passenger door and was about to shove her inside. Thoughts came and went in her mind, what could she do? Not to panic. She screamed as loud as she could. Being pushed and trying to scream at the same time was almost impossible, and just before the door closed on her, she kicked back and the high heel of her shoe struck his shin. He cursed, but it didn't stop him from closing the door with her inside.

Suddenly, there was a screech of brakes. A car pulled up right beside them. Alexander!

The tall man didn't stand a chance against Alexander and his weight training. It certainly paid off when it came to rescuing a damsel in distress.

"Sorry, I'm late," he said, as he held her sobbing in his arms.

The marriage was to take place in the local church. Clara Anne was waiting to be walked down the aisle with her father. Alexander should have been in the church waiting for her, instead, she was waiting for him. Could it be that he had cold feet? Maybe just late, or maybe he'd forgotten? Then she saw him running towards the church, his hair a mess and his tie askew.  

Alexander was late again, but she told herself that it was just the way Alexander was.