If Only For a Day

William Mallory had been in more airports than he could count, but this was his first time in a train station. If it had been any other time of the year, the place would likely have been far less crowded than your typical airport concourse, but this close to Christmas it was well packed with holiday travelers.

"Excuse me..." he said, narrowly avoiding a fellow passenger while fishing inside his jacket pocket for the cell phone that was buzzing against his chest.

He winced when he saw who was calling and took a deep breath before he answered.

"Hello, Mom."

"Billy? Where are you it sounds so loud?"

"I'm at the train station, Mom."

"Train? Why aren't you flying back? I need you here now. The bastard took all our records, Billy, even the one Robert Plant autographed for me at the Monterey Rock Festival. That was my fucking album, Billy!"

"I'm sorry, Mom, the flights were all booked. This was the best I could do. It will just take one day, and I'll be back."

"In a plane, you would have been here in a few hours. I need you right now, Billy. This whole thing is turning into such a mess."

The further he walked into the station, the louder the crowd around him became. William pressed his phone tighter to his ear, trying to pick out his mother's voice from the cacophony that was rapidly surrounding him.

"You need to speak up, Mom, it's getting hard to hear."

"I need your help," she said at a higher volume.

"You understand that I can't represent you right?"

"Why not?"

"Look, I'm happy to give you legal advice, but how do you expect me to remain objective when you're divorcing Dad? It's called a conflict of interest."

"Well...We can talk about that when you get here...Please come home as soon as you can..."

"I promise I'm on my way. I need to go. My trains boarding."

"O.K., I love you."

"Love you too."

William put away his phone, shaking his head and looking toward the Heavens for divine guidance. He had told his mom a little lie about the plane flights. There were some available, but he had decided at the last minute to take a train back instead. He felt he needed the time to think and prepare himself for what was ahead. The dissolution of his parent's thirty-year marriage hadn't exactly come out of nowhere. The signs had been there for years, especially since he had left home after college. The slow deterioration of decades of marital bliss had started with the growing indifference between two people who at one time, had been attached at the hip. He hadn't born witness to every moment, but he had often received a blow by blow account from his mother right up until the revelation that his dad was seeing another woman. That gut punch had left no doubt that things at the Mallory household were in a mess of shit to be sure.

He had been at a legal conference in Havensport when the news had reached him. The whole thing had been the typical boring review of upcoming changes in divorce and estate law which were his specialties, but right now he almost longed to be back there such boredom being infinitely preferable to caught in this showdown between his parents. A part of him desperately wished he had some siblings to share the misery with, but he was an only child.

A queue was forming at the platform to board, and William fell in line glancing around at the crowd when someone jostled him from behind almost making him drop his carry on bag. He turned in annoyance to address what turned out to be a young woman.

"Careful," he said, "we're all going to the same place there's no hurry."

"Sorry, I was looking at my phone. I should have been paying more attention."

This kind of behavior always annoyed William. There were too many people walking the streets with their eyes glued to their phones oblivious to the world around them. Then again, this was the holidays, and one should forgive at Christmas.

"It's fine," he lied.

She smiled up at him, a gentle drawing back of pink lips from perfectly even white teeth.

"The platform isn't usually this busy," she observed.

He thought he caught a faint hint of an accent in her voice, a bit of a Scottish burr mixed in with her flat mid-western tones.

"This is my first time on a train. I usually fly."

"Oh! You'll love it then, much more comfortable than being shoved in a metal tube and shot through the sky."

"You travel by train a lot?" he asked.

The question gave her pause, and William studied her more closely while he awaited her answer. He had to admit; she was rather attractive in a girl-next-door kind of way. About five-foot-five-inches tall, with sandy-brown hair cut short around an oval-shaped face, and light green eyes that were lively and seemed to sparkle in the bright lights of the station. It was difficult to tell much about her body with the long coat she was wearing, but her legs looked slender and muscular sticking out of the bottom.

"Not as much as I would like, but I prefer it to flying."

The line lurched forward suddenly as the train doors opened, and William turned back around to make his way ahead. He quickly lost track of the young lady who had tried to run him down in the sea of people trying to board but was too caught up in his travel pains to worry about it.

One of the few advantages to being an over-worked, single lawyer was having more disposable income than most, and William had decided there was no reason not to travel in comfort, so he had booked himself a first-class sleeper car for the night. His cabin attendant acquainted him with the available amenities while he stowed his travel bags.

"Thanks," he said, tipping the shorter man generously.

"Very kind of you, sir. If there's anything, you need ring me."

William was grateful when he vanished back out the door, shutting it behind him. The way things were going, the only thing William felt he needed was some privacy. He sat down on the bed, catching a brief look at himself in the mirrored closet door opposite. People always told him he looked like his dad, and he supposed he could see the resemblance, both men were tall at six-foot and change with dark brunette hair and thick eyebrows over hazel eyes that more than a few women had told him lent his face a kind and gentle aspect.

The train was comfortably warm, and he stripped off his jacket, removing his phone first, before hanging it in the closet in front of him. He started to sit back down when his phone buzzed in his hand.

"Speak of the Devil..." he muttered, pressing the button to connect the call.

"Hey, Dad."

"Billy...I...Um..."

His Dad hated to talk on phones and always seemed at a loss for words. In person, you could hardly get him to shut up.

"William."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I go by William now, Dad. I have since college, but you and Mom keep insisting on calling me, Billy."

"It's your name."

"I know that, but it's a kids name, and I'm not a kid."

Silence on the other end of the line.

"You've spoken to your mother."

"Yes," he said tightly.

"I was hoping to talk to you first. I'm guessing you're pissed at me right now."

"Why would I be pissed? Just because you cheated on Mom with a barmaid. Why in the world would that piss me off?" replied William in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Look, Billy...William. There was more too it than that, but I'm not proud of my behavior. I want you to know...Well...That I know what I did was wrong. I wish I could take it back."

"Why did you take the Led Zeppelin album? Mom, says you raided the records, and it was hers."

"Raided! I stopped by to pick up a few things since your Mom ordered me out of the house and, yes, I took the album, but he autographed it to both of us. I don't know where she gets off saying..."

"Dad! I'm not up for this conversation right now. I've been awake since early this morning at a conference, and now I'm just trying to get home."

"I understand. I just wanted you to hear my side of things before you rush to judgment."

"We'll have plenty of time to talk when I get home. I need to rest."

"Fine, Son. We can talk when you're back in town. Travel safe..."

"Right...Sure, Dad."

William sat down again, sighing deeply. He tried laying on the bed, closing his eyes, but as the train lurched into motion, he found that he couldn't slow the thoughts that raced around inside his head. After a short time, he sat up again swinging his legs onto the floor and deciding that perhaps a stiff drink might halt the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to drown him.

The lounge was already half-full with people some occupying the many couches that ran along both sides of the car, and more standing at the long bar sipping drinks. William ordered a bourbon straight up and took a hefty swallow letting the alcohol burn its way down his throat.

"So...We meet again," said an accented female voice.

Without realizing it, William had closed his eyes while the bourbon made its journey to his stomach, and when he opened them, he found the same woman from the platform standing next to him. She had removed her long coat, and he could now see that she was trim with decent sized breasts, not overly large, but substantial enough to make make the blouse she was wearing swell outward. The shirt was cut low so that he could see a gold chain hanging around her slender neck dangling down into the valley formed by her firm mounds.

"So we do," said William coughing slightly, "You following me, Lady?"

She chuckled favoring him with the same brilliant smile as before, "Do I look like the stalker type?"

"You look safe, but those are always the ones you have to keep an eye on."

"I can assure you I'm only here for the wine," she replied, waving for the bartender.

She claimed the glass he returned with from the top of the bar sipping at it gingerly while eying the one in William's hand.

"Kind of early in the day for the hard stuff isn't it? It's not even dinner time yet."

"It's been that kind of day..." he said his voice trailing off as he took another drink.

"I'm Fiona Stewart by the way, and sorry again for trying to run you over."

"William Mallory and no harm done. You're not nearly big enough to present a hazard."

"So, William Mallory, what brings you out into the world today?"

"On my way home from a conference in Havensport."

"Sales? Technology?"

"Legal, I'm an attorney," he said, leaning on the bar and shifting his glass to his other hand.

"What sort?" she asked casually.

"I started out doing estate law, but I switched to divorce."

"That would explain the drinking in the middle of the day. I imagine that isn't the most fun line of work, seeing people at their worst all the time."

"No, but it can be lucrative, and somebodies got to do it."

"I hear a bit of jaded cynicism in your voice, William."

"You're right; it can be a drag at times."

"Is that why you're downing whiskey at three in the afternoon?"

"You're a nosey one aren't you, Fiona Stewart?"

"Sorry...Force of habit. I'm a reporter, so I tend to come off like I'm interrogating everyone I meet."

"Newspaper?"

"I used to be, but I do freelance stuff these days writing for magazines. I was in Havensport interviewing a CEO who fancies himself a state senator someday."

"Good for him, I guess. Trying to make a difference in the world and all that," said William grumpily.

"This is supposed to be the holiday season. Wouldn't you rather be of good cheer?"

"Maybe if you stand here long enough some of yours will rub off."

Fiona laughed, taking another drink from her wine glass, "I do have a reputation for being something of a Pollyanna. It drives my sister crazy. We live together, and I think on occasion she would just rather I learn to sulk like everyone else."

"I apologize if I'm bumming you out. It's just been a long day already, and tomorrow is shaping up to be worse."

"Tough divorce case? Husband and wife at each other's throats?"

"Something like that," said William evasively, not wanting to talk about his mother and father with some stranger on a train.

"If I were you, William, I would try to get my mind off it. Tomorrow will take care of itself we should only worry about today."

"The world, according to Fiona?"

"I rather like the sound of that it would make a good book title."

"You write novels as well?"

"I've started to a couple of times, but I seem to lack the focus to finish one."

"Imagine that..." he said with a hint of sarcasm.

The sounds of laughter erupted from behind them, and Fiona threw a look over her shoulder.

"Hey! They're playing pub trivia! We should join in. It would do you good to think about something else."

"Are you a therapist too?"

"Come on! It's Christmas time," she said as if that simple statement carried all the explanation he needed.

"Ah! What the Hell," he said, falling in behind her.

The couple more than held their own against the other patrons in the bar, much to William's surprise, making it to the final round. He managed to keep them in the running by knowing that Phoenix was the tutor of Achilles while Fiona it turned out had a comprehensive knowledge of movies and television. They sat together, heads poised over a note pad while they waited for the final question that would decide things.

"You know this quite exciting. I hardly ever win at anything," admitted Fiona.

She was almost bouncing on the sofa cushion, barely containing her childish glee.

"This abbey built by St. Benedict in 529 A.D. was once the wealthiest in the world. It was destroyed by Allied bombing during World War 2, but rebuilt in the late 1940s."

"Oh! I have no idea..." whispered Fiona desperately.

William leaned, across her and hit the buzzer.

"Monte Cassino Abbey."

"That is correct!" said the moderator of the event.

Fiona jumped up off the couch clearly beside herself at having won and throwing her arms around Williams' neck impulsively. He held her briefly, enjoying the sweet smell of her perfume and the feel of her warm body on his before releasing her as she stepped back.

"Sorry...I didn't mean to get so carried away. I really never win at anything!"

"It's o.k," answered William figuring there were plenty of worse things that could happen to you in life than getting a hug from a pretty girl.

Their prize turned out to be a very nice bottle of vintage wine.

"You should probably take it. I think you know way more about wine than I do," offered William.

"That wouldn't be fair. It was your answer that got us the win. What if we took it with us to the dining car? It's almost time for dinner."

"Huh? I didn't even notice it had gotten so late. I guess that would be alright."

It occurred to him as they made their way out of the lounge that he hadn't taken another drink since Fiona had pulled him into the trivia contest. Whether she had intended to cheer him up without resorting to numbing his pain with alcohol, it had worked, and he supposed it was probably better that way. It was at least preferable to waking up with a hangover and likely feeling worse about things.

The dining car was filling with hungry passengers when they arrived, but they had beaten the worst of the rush and were quickly seated at a table with a spectacular view of the scenery whizzing by outside.

"How did you know all that historical stuff? You're very knowledgeable," pointed out Fiona impressed.

"I loved history when I was in grade school. My grandfather served in World War 2, and he was always dragging me to museums and historical sites. He was big on learning the lessons of the past to avoid making the same mistakes in the future. Given the things he had seen, I could understand why. I guess I got my passion from him."

"Did you ever think about teaching?"

William lifted his eyes from the menu in front of him while his thoughts drifted back to the long-ago argument with his father about this very subject.

"Teaching is a valuable job, but it doesn't do much to pay the bills."

"There's more to life than just making money, William."

"Tell my father that," he blurted without thinking.

"I take it your father had something to do with your choice of vocation?"

He hesitated not wanting to paint his father as being manipulative though in retrospect he certainly had been.

"My Dad grew up poor and had to work his way up in the trades as a welder. He just wanted something better for his son. I think he wanted me to go to a job where I didn't have to scrub the dirt off myself at the end of every day."

"I don't know too many teachers who do that."

William smiled, "I think my Dad saw the nobility in teaching. He just liked the idea of a lawyers paycheck a little more. He steered me in a given direction."

"I hear the regret in your voice."

"What about you? Were your parents ace reporters as well?" he asked desperate to change the subject.

"My parents owned a floral shop in Edinburgh. I used to help them there when I was a little girl."

"I thought I caught the hint of an accent in your voice."

"We moved to the states when I was twelve. I've managed to lose most of my Scottish accent over the years, but it tends to flare up when I get nervous or drunk."

"I think it's cute. I could listen to you talk all night."

"Careful what you wish for I tend to get rolling and you can't shut me off."

The waiter came and took their order with William handing over the bottle of wine for him to open. They toasted their good fortune and were well into their second glass each by the time the food arrived.

"This Beef Wellington is delicious," he said swallowing a large bite.

"I can vouch for the prime rib as well," said Fiona around tender slices of her own meal.

"Where do you and your sister live?"

"Her name is Amelia, and we live in Acton," she answered.

It was a small town, about two hours outside of his home city.

"I've heard of it. I think I drove through there once on vacation. I might have stopped for gas. I don't remember."

"What about you?"

"Lancaster."

"The big city by the sea. You must have some interesting tales to tell about growing up there."

"Not really. My life was pretty mundane."

"I'm sure it was more entertaining than growing up in a tiny town like Acton. Our idea of an exciting Saturday night was driving through the local D.Q. for a shake and then sitting on the hoods of our cars looking for shooting stars."

"Sounds peaceful."

"Peacefully boring to a seventeen-year-old girl."

"Would you like some more wine," he asked, raising the bottle.

"You wouldn't be trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me, would you?" she said, lifting one eyebrow in mock concern.

"Maybe I just want to bring out more of that lovely accent? Anyway, I don't need alcohol to ply women. I do fine on my own."

"What's the most ridiculous thing you ever did?"

"The most ridiculous thing I ever did to..."

"To get a girl. I think we've all done some silly things in pursuit of the opposite sex."

William looked away for a moment a bit of red coming to his cheeks.

"Ah! There's something there isn't there? What did you do, William? I promise this is off the record I won't write it up in a future novel, cross my heart!" she said, running her finger in an "X" pattern on her chest.

"O.K. true story, but please don't repeat this I spent years living it down."

"Oh! I'm all ears," she said, scooting closer and resting her head on her hands.

"My junior year of high school, I had a horrible crush on Jenny Dean. Tall, brunette, a goddess among teen girls."

"Do tell," said Fiona with a sly smile.

"Anyway, Jenny was big in the performing arts department. She was an actress in all the school plays, and she sang with the choir."

"A gifted young lady."

"Yeah...She was outgoing and had lots of guys chasing her around. I was a quiet kid, kept to myself for the most part in school. I found Jenny very intimidating, but I pined for her anyway."