Catherine Ch. 01

My God, have I imagined this whole thing?

Maybe I fell asleep standing up in that train car where I dreamed I'd fallen through a hole in this universe, but all too briefly came out into some other more beautiful place! Only to be dragged screaming, kicking, and clawing back into this one.

Looking down at my watch, my right hand holding back the left sleeve of my jacket to see it, when suddenly remembering, she put something into my jacket's right pocket. Reaching there I find a folded piece of paper with a seven-digit telephone number written there, and nothing else.

An bringing it closer to my face to see it better in the dim light, is where I catch the erotic womanly scent of her dried wetness on my hand. But in the process of doing that, I suddenly have the feeling I'm being watched..

Looking to my left it's the face of a very pretty woman, possibly in her early thirties, who's looking back, and almost even with me on the adjacent escalator. Where I notice the woman has on a leather jacket, as so do I

Catherine complimented me on mine, then went on telling me how she likes things of fine leather. Noticing the leather jacket this woman has on, with it covering about half of her very nice womanly behind. And yes, it's her bulky scarf that catches my eye now.

Catherine playfully draped hers over my left shoulder where we played a little tug of war with it. Where this one is loosely wrapped around this woman's neck, the ends draped down over the swell of her breast. And that hat, the same woolen hat Catherine held in her left hand, and that's when I saw her wedding ring! Maybe the reason she was holding the hat in her hand while her left arm was draped over my shoulder --- my heart sinking at the sight of the ring

But even knowing that, I can't help looking into this woman's hypnotic blue eyes, and that beautiful face with its tantalizing sexy mouth. She is more than just pretty, or beautiful --- no, she is stunning! But it's those eyes that captivate me.

It's said the eyes are the windows into the soul, and if that's true, I've been caught peeking in her window. If hers are peering into mine --- she's breaking and entering!

Now letting my eyes slowly roam over this beauty, my mind is overwhelmed by the perfection they see! Where I put my right hand back under my nose, cocking my head as if asking --- is this you, Catherine? Her eyes opening wide in shocked surprised understanding at why I'm doing it!

Where there seems to be a little pink forming on her cheeks, before she quickly looks away. But when she tentatively looks back to me, and yes, she's blushing! Then covering her face with her gloved hands, looks away once more. But it's only for a few seconds before she looking back at me, and this time, it's without her hands covering her beautiful face, where her gorgeous smile lights up this dingy subway station we're in right now.

Oh My God Catherine, it is you --- my thought.

But unfortunately at that very moment of realization we've reached the top of the escalator where I look down to see when to step off. But when I turn to look for her she's nowhere in sight. Damn, did she blend into that crowd moving away from me, opposite to the direction I have to go?

Where just then I catch a glimpse of a woman moving swiftly through the crowd of people. And yes, she's wearing the same leather jacket, and on her head the same woolen hat, along with a bulky scarf around her neck too. And what I couldn't see before, and what I see now, are those tight blue jeans hugging that perfect womanly ass, and those long shapely legs. But it's her snug leather boots that come up over her calves coupled with their slightly raised heels, that's making her hips, and that beautiful ass smoothly sway with the easy rhythm of her walk.

But now it's some guy coming in her direction who's stopped to say something to her causing her to pause in her stride, maybe to acknowledge what he said, then continues on her way as he looks back watching as she goes. Where I can see him nod his head in appreciation of what just walked on by him.

Yeah! Saying it to myself, buddy if you only knew! If you only freaking knew! So with a deep sigh, and a resigned shrug of my shoulders as I turn around, and head towards the stairs, and the exit I take to the street.

But jus as I'm almost there in my mind screams, NO! Where I stop and turn around to look back to where I just came from. Damn it Swaggart! She either did it on purpose, the fact of the ring, and that's why she asked you not to follow her. But I don't care about any of that now, or how late I am! All I care about right this minute is --- I have to know who she really is.

So moving as quickly as I can back through the crowd of commuters coming towards me, looking left, then right as I pass the shops and stands trying to see if she may have stopped in one. But so far, I haven't seen her.

Hell, maybe I waited too long, and she already made it up to street level. If she has, I know I'll never find her now. But, she did put that paper in your pocket didn't she Swaggart? And it does look like a phone number. Perhaps I'll have better luck if I call it? Yeah, I'm damn sure going to call it!

But as I'm standing here lamenting my rotten luck, I catch the aroma of fresh brewed coffee, along with the lure of fresh pastries. Oh well, I can at least get some coffee, and a toasted raisin bagel to take back to school with me. I know it's cheaper in the cafeteria there, but what the hell --- I'm here. Plus a full take out cup of hot coffee would help keep my hands warm.

Plus, never being in this part of the concourse I'm also unfamiliar with this coffee shop, but I might as well see what they have. But as I'm looking up at the menu board I hear this female voice to my right as she's ordering, "I'd like a medium coffee with cream, and no-cal sweeteners on the side," she says. "Oh, and a toasted raisin bagel, light on the butter please," telling it all to the person who's taking her order.

And me, still staring at the menu board with the thought, looks like someone else likes toasted raisin bagels too. When all of sudden it's, wait a damn minute! And without a doubt, I know that woman's voice, as I turn my head to look in the direction it came from. Where it's, Oh My God, there she is, looking down at the newspaper in her hands. What the...? I know I passed a news stand. And I know I looked to see who was there!

But now it's the person behind the counter breaking into my thoughts asking, "Sir, can I help you," he says.

But too distracted to reply with anything, so it's stepping aside that lets anyone standing behind me take my place, and lucky for me, there's no one standing with her. So quickly moving in behind her, but what do I say to her? Where the only thing that comes immediately to mind is, "Hello Catherine, I guess it's my turn to stand behind you."

I think recognizing my voice has her head lifting up from the newspaper. But only to stare straight ahead as the man behind the counter, who's holding her coffee and bagel in a paper bag where he's telling her how much she owes.

Now quickly stepping to her right with, "Excuse me sir, I'll pay for the lady's order." At the same time as I'm looking at her, hoping for a positive reaction to what I just offered. But the expression on her face --- confusion, surprise, or God I hope not..., annoyance.

"That won't be...,"

"Please Catherine," my interrupting her. "I'd really like to."

And getting my wallet out, but when I open it, pausing for a few seconds as I look first at the guy behind the counter holding the bag with her coffee and bagel. Then back to her as if, "Oh Shit! I don't have the money?"

"Sir, are you going to pay for the ladies order?" It's the guy behind the counter that's asking me. Where I'm still looking at Catherine and stumbling with , "Ah..., I'm sorry, but I ah, I hope you have the money to pay for it."

Where the look I'm getting from her is like, You really can't be this dumb!

"Catherine..., I'm only kidding," my reply to that look she's giving me.

Where she looks up at the ceiling as if asking, "Please..., why me?" But there's also the hint of a smile in the corners of her pretty mouth.

Handing the counter man a ten dollar bill along with asking him for a large coffee, along with several creamers and sugars too.

Then with Catherine taking the bag from the man, along with her, "Thank you," she says. But is she saying it to me, or is it to the man handing her the bag? And me, not sure what to expect next.

Is she going to just walk away, or maybe say something about why I followed her? But she doesn't say a word, but just before she turns around to walk away, "Catherine wait..., please, just for a minute," it's my asking her.

And right after asking her that, '"Here's your large regular with extra creamers and sugars sir," the man behind the counter is telling me. But I don't want to look away from her because I'm afraid she'll disappear again. And now I hear the counter man repeating, "Sir..., your coffee!"

Then only looking away from her long enough to see the bag he's holding, then quickly turning back to see if Catherine's still there, and yes she is, but standing just outside the doors of the coffee shop.

So taking the bag from the counter man, but as I'm walking away, he's calling after me, "Sir, your change." But with a friendly wave goodbye I continue over to where Catherine has been waiting just outside the entrance.

And now that we're standing here, face to face for the first time, I realize how tall she is in those boots. I'm six foot four, so I'm guessing she's about five foot eight, or nine without those two inch heels on her boots, where she only has to tip her head back to look me in the eyes. An oh..., those eyes!

"Catherine please forgive me," asking her. "I know you asked me not to follow you, but I have to know who you are. And I promise I will leave if you tell me to go away, and I will. But please, I'd really like to know who you are!?" My desperate plea.

"Catherine..., you already know my first name is Bob, and my last name is Swaggart," follows up what I asked her.

Where she looks at me a few seconds more..., "Nice to meet you again..., Bob Swaggart," she says. And it's Parker, and yes, you already know my first name too." Followed with her killer smile.

Nodding my head slightly repeating, "Parker, Catherine --- thank you..., Catherine Parker," telling her.

"Excuse me." As someone brushes into us, and continues walking on up the concourse.

Which has me looking around for a place to get out of the people traffic, when I notice a few small tables, and chairs in an area opposite the entrance to the coffee shop.

"Catherine, can we sit down for a minute," asking her, as I point to the tables.

"Bob, I'm sorry," her apology. "But I'm very late, and I really have to go,"she's saying.

"Yes Catherine, I understand, and I'm also very late, but a few more minutes won't make much difference now." Expecting her to turn away and leave. But instead, "You're right Bob," she says. "I guess a few more minutes won't make much difference for me either," she replies. Where we move to one of the tables, and sit down.

But what do I say to her, now that she's sitting across from me, and taking off that woolen hat. Is followed with a quick shake of her head, loosening her long honey blond hair, at the same time it's my thoughts of how beautiful she is doing that head toss. Kind of flirty the way some women do it that gets a man's attention --- as if she's saying yes, "I'm interested." And totally disarms me, making it difficult to say what I want.

She was so easy to talk to on the train because I couldn't turn around to see this woman with that sexy, slightly husky voice. And all the time we were talking, along with the other that was happening, I was trying to place where I've heard that voice before. Where now it comes to me --- a little Kathleen Turner I think?

So instead of fumbling something out like a fool, it's reaching into my pocket to remove the piece of paper, and placing it on the table top, sliding it across to her, "Why did you put this in my pocket," asking her. "I assume it's your telephone number?" My follow up question.

"Yes Bob," she replies. "It's my office phone number," she says. Where she pauses a few seconds. "I thought maybe we should talk sometime about what happened, but...,"

"But Catherine," my interrupting. "It sounds like you're not so sure now?"

"Catherine, as I said over there," nodding my head towards the coffee shop. "I'm not stalking you! And again, if you want me to leave I will. And you can have that back too," as I motion to the piece of paper with the number on it, "If you've changed your mind. But I'll tell you this Catherine Parker, I've already memorized it."

"So..., a fat lot of good it will do me to take it back now, huh," she says," her laugh following.

"Yeah..., you're right Catherine," telling her. "But I still won't call it if you ask me not to. But I hope you won't." Smiling back at her

Where the stars must be shining on me as she lifts her gloved hand, places her fingers on the paper, pausing as if in thought, then slides it back across to me, "Don't call it for three weeks," she says.

"Three week..., why three weeks?" Looking at her in complete disbelief at the three weeks!

"Bob," she says. "Because I'll be doing some extensive traveling on business for the next three weeks."

"Okay..., so, is that a twenty-one days three weeks, or is there a fudge factor there somewhere," my asking "And when does that three weeks start, if I may ask?"

"Bob, it starts late tomorrow afternoon," she says. "I have a flight leaving at six-thirty for Denver."

"Wow, three whole weeks? That's a long business trip."

"Yes it is Bob," she says. "But I knew there would be a lot of traveling when I accepted this job, but it's not like this trip all the time."

"Well Catherine Parker, may I ask what you do?"

"Bob, I'm a program administrator for a program offered to active and retired military veterans, and their families. I work for IIG, International Insurance Group." Her reply.

"Okay, so you're in that glass and stainless steel building across the plaza I can see from my classroom windows."

"Classroom, Bob," she asks.

"Yes Catherine, my company has a training facility in a building that also faces the plaza with that fountain. I'm in a training course for a new system our company is deploying on the network. And today was the start of our next thirteen week part of that course."

"Okay... so Bob, do you work downtown too," she asked.

"No Catherine, I work in the suburbs. I'm only down here for that training course. Then I'll be returning back to the field. So..., a program for veterans and their families --- insurance I assume," asking her.

"Yes Bob," she says. "But a lot more than just insurance. With this program we offer individual counseling for the Veteran, and their family, many support services, savings, and investment assistance, child care assistance, assistance with working with the VA on disability, and medical benefits, plus more as the program continues to evolve. There are many, many Veterans returning with all kinds of issues, from PTSD, to divorces. So hopefully we can help save marriages along with lives. There are way too many suicides among returning vets."

"Wow! I wish I had known about your program earlier."

"Oh, and why is that Bob," she asks.

"Catherine, I'm Master Sergeant Robert Swaggart of the United States Marine Corps. But now I'm in the active reserves, also, a divorced Master Sergeant too. I didn't make up my mind fast enough about getting completely out of the Corps after my last deployment. So my wife did what she said she would do, and that was leave."

"Bob, I'm sorry to hear that," she says. "Before I was offered this position, I was doing a lot of research --- gathering facts, figures, statistics on many of the issues facing veterans, like divorce rates. My real father divorced my mother when my sister, and I were eight, he was a captain in the army," she tells me.

"When my mother remarried about four years later, she married a Marine. So when I refer to my father now, it's my step dad I'm referring to. I guess when they were considering people for the position I have now, maybe my close connection to the military and their issues made me their choice," she's telling me.

"Catherine, your step father was a Marine?"

"Yes Bob," she says. "But he was killed in a traffic accident one night returning home from the base by a stupid nine-teen year old kid, stoned, and drunk out of his mind. Who ran a red light, and broad-sided my dad's car killing him," she's telling.

"Son of a bitch! I'm sorry Catherine!" Which has me looking away for a moment. "Marines die for many noble reasons," turning back to her. "But not taken out by some stupid ass mothr... sorry, stupid jerk! I am sorry about your dad," telling her.

"Bob, I've called that kid worse than that, and thank you," she says, a big sigh just before that came out.

"So Catherine, it's really three weeks huh?"

"What? Yes Bob, three weeks," she says. Brings her back to looking at me with that beautiful smile, and those hypnotic blue eyes.

Where it's, "Bob, I really have to go," she's saying now.

"Yeah I know..., me too." As I melt under her gaze. "And I hope you have a safe trip Catherine Parker!" As I stand up with her. "But damn it, three weeks?"

Now laughing as she holds out her hand, "Thank you for my coffee Bob Swaggart," she says.

"Catherine, you're more than welcome," taking her hand in a friendly hand shake. "And thank you too for staying, and talking with me. But three fricken weeks!"

"Goodbye Sargent Swaggart, and yes, it's still three weeks." Comes with that killer smile.

Then putting her hat on as she walks down the concourse, with me never taking my eyes off her until she reaches the stairs that will take her up to street level.

Okay, even though you're married, Catherine Parker, I think I'm in love with you!

And picking up my coffee, removing the lid to take a sip of the now, lukewarm coffee, where I catch her womanly scent on my fingers again. My God! Looking back in the direction she just disappeared --- it really did happened, so it wasn't a dream!

Holding my coffee cup in my left hand as I make my way back through another on coming crush of commuters, my right hand snugly in the right side jacket pocket. And if I had one, I might put my hand in a plastic bag so I wouldn't accidentally wash it. Breaking myself up at the thought --- Swaggart, you're fucking pervert!

Walking into my classroom, and over to the coat rack taking off my new leather jacket as I go. But as I pull a hanger from the rack, and start to hang my jacket up it's when I see the bite marks in the collar.

Son of a bitch! It really did happen, repeating what I said to myself down in the concourse! And her name is Catherine Parker, and she gave me her office telephone number too. But..., SON OF A BITCH! She's going to be out of town for three damn weeks!

Walking over to a window, looking out at that glass and stainless steel building with the three large letters, IIG on the top of it, wondering where her office is located and can she see this building I'm in too. But it's the sound of voices as some of my classmates, including my teammate John Wearing, come noisily into the room followed by our instructor Frank, disturbing my rerunning of what happened this morning on the train, breaking me out of those thoughts.

Damn it Catherine Parker, why in the hell me?

And with John and I greeting each other as we sit down at our shared table, where it's asking how each other's Christmas weekend went. When Frank interrupts the conversation as he starts out with, "I planned on jumping right into the next part of this course," he says. "But because four other members of this class have called out due to issues with the weather. So instead, we'll review some of what we covered in the previous half --- if that's okay with everyone," with Frank looking around the room seeing the affirmative nods in agreement.