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19 Temmuz 2023, 00:15
Note: All action in the story takes place among characters all over the age of 18.
*****
"Good seeing you again, Ms. Brown. Have a great night."
I ran her order of some inspirational books and some trinkets through the barcoder. "Oh, now, call me Lori, please," she said, grinning at us as she headed her wheelchair out to the parking lot.
"Uh, oh, Ok Lori, thank you and we'll see you soon."
"She is new in town?" Mom asked leaning over me from behind the counter.
"Uh, no Mom, she was my eight grade remedial reading teacher. She moved nearby, teaches now at the community college."
"She in an accident?"
"I think MS, or maybe arthritis or something," I answered.
"Oh too bad. Very pretty woman."
"She sometimes comes in with just a cane," I said, "When it's pleasant weather, her affliction is almost barely noticeable at all. I never really said anything to her until she finally recognized me as one of her former students."
"She was nice?"
"Yeah, I liked the school," I said.
"I guess you didn't miss out not having me homeschool you like your sisters."
"Right. You and the girls did a good job. Holding down business at the store with stepdad away at the missions, and having home taught my sisters alongside it all. But obviously I needed the specialization of that school, plus of course the sports."
"Yes dear," Mom replied, with a wistful smile.
I had gotten to be a little out of control for Mom and stepdad just before age twelve or so. Stopping homeschool was a bit frightening, as was starting a new school where everybody all knew each other already. Or maybe it wasn't so much I was out of control, as we know now, as it was that putting a growing boisterous teenage boy like me in that homeschool environment with Mom presiding over my sisters and I in our religious inspirational book shop was akin to shoving the proverbial square peg into a round hole. Or was it a big round peg in a square...
Mom went back into the office while I continued to man the counter, lapsing into reminisce about our recently exited customer. When she started coming into the store I wanted to say something but was hoping she would recognize me to break the ice first.
One particular spring day my oldest sister Theresa stopped by and helped out at the store a bit, "like in the old days" as she laughingly put it. Even though the family decided that I, the middle child, could be the one to live in the apartment over top the family store for time being, both sisters seemed intent on pressuring Mom into handing over ownership to them now that they were married or as was the case with the younger one (actually step sister) Vivian, engaged to a guy she met at the ministry during a mission trip.
I stepped toward the counter to look into what was going on as Theresa waited on Lori Brown and a couple other customers as well.
"Oh, so you're his sister?" I heard her ask Theresa.
"Yes, but only Ed went to the school. Viv and I were homeschooled by our Mom. We used to live over top the store but now only Ed lives up there."
"Yep, that's me Ms. Brown. You remember me from eighth grade, do you?" Theresa stepped aside to allow me to ring up her order. She was purchasing some sort of fancy-covered dream interpretation book. Although our family was of a conservative religious bent, Mom and the girls implemented a sales strategy that allowed us to offer quite an eclectic mix of titles. Yoga, paranormal, even some romance and sci-fi/fantasy to go along with predictably inspirational/motivational stuff.
She looked like she was having a good day today, nimbly navigating her way out of her store with an elegantly carved wooden cane. Tilting her face toward the door slightly and scrunching her lips together she sighed, "Oh darn, I didn't know it was supposed to rain. I'm gonna get soaked."
Theresa nudged me saying, "I can go up and grab Ed's umbrella. Let him walk you out."
"Sure," I said enthusiastically. She wore her long dark brown hair much longer than I remember during my classroom days. Perhaps she wore it up during work. Her taste in clingy colorful printed dresses flattered her still svelte statuesque figure, her lush tresses streaked with strands of gray.
Heading out the door with my umbrella in one hand covering her head, the other holding her bags, I jokingly said, "That book looks interesting."
"Yes, it does," she laughed.
"I wonder if there's anything to it all about dreams predicting our future," I ventured.
She chuckled "Let's hope it's true of the pleasanter ones. So long as that nightmares don't come true. Perhaps your families Bible studies holds some answers for you."
"Happy reading, have a good night."
"Thank you. You too, dear. Bye for now."
I closed her car door and waved as she drove off.
Back at the store, Theresa grinned, attempting to grill me about my younger years. "Were you an A student for her?"
"It was a remedial language and reading class. And a couple study Yenimaahalle Escort (https://yenimahalle.t2bro.net/) halls. I did fine. She was nice. Everyone liked her," I replied solemnly.
"See you at Viv's for Sunday dinner," she said, leaving the store for the evening so I could wrap things up for another workday.
Sunday dinner involved Mom, my two sisters with the significant others and one other guest. Part of the day involved all of us video conferencing with stepdad who was doing missionary and teaching outreach in Thailand with the children of a big telecom utility there. The other guest was Brenda who works with me coaching coed kids basketball at the chapel rec center. The family wants to fix us up. Brenda sports perky short blonde hair and is tall and athletically trim, though not as soft and gently curvaceous as Miss Brown. I find her attractive in that tomboyish kind of way. She played ball at a religious school and often speaks (especially to the team members) in that fiery coach-speak manner, sprinkled with spiritually inspirational evangelically edgy rhetoric. So I don't know how far I'd get with her, but she is in the wholesale book business and so the family likes the profit angle of me schmoozing her. Her specialty is athletic titles, coach guides, some martial arts. Monday was gonna be a long day of doing business with her at our bookshop followed by a hoops tournament that evening.
As expected, the big announcement concerned Mom's plans to husband and stepfather over in Thailand. It's a somber occasion as she doesn't necessarily want to go but there is suspicion of him being "involved" with someone over there, shall we say. Soon however, after the men started pulling away from the table to admirably assist Viv with after meal clean-up, conversation shifted to my goings on and particularly that teacher frequently seen shopping at our bookstore.
"How old would she be," inquired Theresa.
"She was not too soon outta college when I had her, so probably ten or twelve years or so," I answered.
"You stayed after school a lot," giggled Viv, "I bet you were the teachers pet, huh?"
"Seems nice, very pretty. Hobbling around on a cane maybe makes her look a bit older " Mom interjected as everyone rejoined the table to sip coffee and tea.
The comments made me twist my lips together a bit irritably. "Well, I did have a lot of remedial work but also played sports."
"She married," Brenda asked.
"No, never been I think. Lives alone far as I know." I said.
"Well Ed here went through formal schooling but you sisters were home tutored and yet you all turned out great, so..." interjected Theresa's husband Roy.
Brenda inserted an after-dinner mint in her mouth, gently glanced over and touched me on the arm before speaking. "Some of these academic types" she began in her subtle Southern twang, "When I played basketball and soccer at the college, there was this physiology grad assistant who worked as a trainer and assistant coach. Helga, I think she was foreign grad student... Hungarian, I think. I used to cramp up a lot late in games and she, uh, administer treatment, tape my ankles and all."
She glanced up at me smiling somewhat nervously, "Well, on the massage table she seemed a little too, uh, fixated on my tushie!"
The men kinda rolled their eyes, while Mom tilted her head back in kind of a disapproving way while the girls let out a collective sigh of mild disdain.
As I started wondering why she was telling this, as if it were confessional or maybe wanting covertly for me and the others to feel somewhat titillated, Viv prodded, "So how'd you handle that?"
"It was really cold during a soccer match. So I wore a pair of shorts under my uniform shorts that laced up tight in the back. I cramped up and got subbed out late in the game and went into the locker room where she was getting ready to work on me on the massage table. She's talking all sweet to get me to relax and then reached under the waistband of my soccer shorts and starts tugging on the lacing underneath. So I look back at her and say, 'No, no, no, Helga honey' and she's like 'Uh oh.' And I say "God can see your handiwork Helga!"
Everyone kinda giggled nervously and then there was a bit of a pregnant pause. She continued, "She was kinda cold and aloof with me after that, as you might expect. She left the college at the end of the year."
Mom quickly tried to change subjects, "So you are meeting with Ed at the store tomorrow? Before basketball?"
"Right, got some interesting new books for us, do ya Brenda?"
She nodded at me "Yep, Eddie, busy day tomorrow!"
Monday back at the store, indeed Mom and Brenda kept me busy going over wholesale book orders and all the paperwork that it entails. Later on in the afternoon we had Lori come in again.
"Your favorite teacher's here," Mom said smiling over at Brenda leaning against the stacks of health and fitness titles.
She was using her chair today, a lightweight blue chrome sporty looking thing.
"It's a type of Escort Yenimahalle (https://yenimahalle.t2bro.net/) arthritic condition," she explained as I waited on her and helped fill her bags with some books. This time the titles concerned dream interpretation, as usual, plus some subjects related to reincarnation, people with past lives played out during Victorian times, etc.
"After several days of cold very humid weather, my body tends to become tight and a lot less mobile she said with a sigh. Ah, I want to show you something," she pulled out some paperwork from her handbag. "I noticed you have meeting room space back there. My woman's group needs a place to hold our next event."
She smiled and handed me one of the brochures, "Kind of like an historical themed costume party."
The brochure had artwork and pictures of women and models dressed in 19th century period clothing. The title said: "Of Bloomers, Chemises
*****
"Good seeing you again, Ms. Brown. Have a great night."
I ran her order of some inspirational books and some trinkets through the barcoder. "Oh, now, call me Lori, please," she said, grinning at us as she headed her wheelchair out to the parking lot.
"Uh, oh, Ok Lori, thank you and we'll see you soon."
"She is new in town?" Mom asked leaning over me from behind the counter.
"Uh, no Mom, she was my eight grade remedial reading teacher. She moved nearby, teaches now at the community college."
"She in an accident?"
"I think MS, or maybe arthritis or something," I answered.
"Oh too bad. Very pretty woman."
"She sometimes comes in with just a cane," I said, "When it's pleasant weather, her affliction is almost barely noticeable at all. I never really said anything to her until she finally recognized me as one of her former students."
"She was nice?"
"Yeah, I liked the school," I said.
"I guess you didn't miss out not having me homeschool you like your sisters."
"Right. You and the girls did a good job. Holding down business at the store with stepdad away at the missions, and having home taught my sisters alongside it all. But obviously I needed the specialization of that school, plus of course the sports."
"Yes dear," Mom replied, with a wistful smile.
I had gotten to be a little out of control for Mom and stepdad just before age twelve or so. Stopping homeschool was a bit frightening, as was starting a new school where everybody all knew each other already. Or maybe it wasn't so much I was out of control, as we know now, as it was that putting a growing boisterous teenage boy like me in that homeschool environment with Mom presiding over my sisters and I in our religious inspirational book shop was akin to shoving the proverbial square peg into a round hole. Or was it a big round peg in a square...
Mom went back into the office while I continued to man the counter, lapsing into reminisce about our recently exited customer. When she started coming into the store I wanted to say something but was hoping she would recognize me to break the ice first.
One particular spring day my oldest sister Theresa stopped by and helped out at the store a bit, "like in the old days" as she laughingly put it. Even though the family decided that I, the middle child, could be the one to live in the apartment over top the family store for time being, both sisters seemed intent on pressuring Mom into handing over ownership to them now that they were married or as was the case with the younger one (actually step sister) Vivian, engaged to a guy she met at the ministry during a mission trip.
I stepped toward the counter to look into what was going on as Theresa waited on Lori Brown and a couple other customers as well.
"Oh, so you're his sister?" I heard her ask Theresa.
"Yes, but only Ed went to the school. Viv and I were homeschooled by our Mom. We used to live over top the store but now only Ed lives up there."
"Yep, that's me Ms. Brown. You remember me from eighth grade, do you?" Theresa stepped aside to allow me to ring up her order. She was purchasing some sort of fancy-covered dream interpretation book. Although our family was of a conservative religious bent, Mom and the girls implemented a sales strategy that allowed us to offer quite an eclectic mix of titles. Yoga, paranormal, even some romance and sci-fi/fantasy to go along with predictably inspirational/motivational stuff.
She looked like she was having a good day today, nimbly navigating her way out of her store with an elegantly carved wooden cane. Tilting her face toward the door slightly and scrunching her lips together she sighed, "Oh darn, I didn't know it was supposed to rain. I'm gonna get soaked."
Theresa nudged me saying, "I can go up and grab Ed's umbrella. Let him walk you out."
"Sure," I said enthusiastically. She wore her long dark brown hair much longer than I remember during my classroom days. Perhaps she wore it up during work. Her taste in clingy colorful printed dresses flattered her still svelte statuesque figure, her lush tresses streaked with strands of gray.
Heading out the door with my umbrella in one hand covering her head, the other holding her bags, I jokingly said, "That book looks interesting."
"Yes, it does," she laughed.
"I wonder if there's anything to it all about dreams predicting our future," I ventured.
She chuckled "Let's hope it's true of the pleasanter ones. So long as that nightmares don't come true. Perhaps your families Bible studies holds some answers for you."
"Happy reading, have a good night."
"Thank you. You too, dear. Bye for now."
I closed her car door and waved as she drove off.
Back at the store, Theresa grinned, attempting to grill me about my younger years. "Were you an A student for her?"
"It was a remedial language and reading class. And a couple study Yenimaahalle Escort (https://yenimahalle.t2bro.net/) halls. I did fine. She was nice. Everyone liked her," I replied solemnly.
"See you at Viv's for Sunday dinner," she said, leaving the store for the evening so I could wrap things up for another workday.
Sunday dinner involved Mom, my two sisters with the significant others and one other guest. Part of the day involved all of us video conferencing with stepdad who was doing missionary and teaching outreach in Thailand with the children of a big telecom utility there. The other guest was Brenda who works with me coaching coed kids basketball at the chapel rec center. The family wants to fix us up. Brenda sports perky short blonde hair and is tall and athletically trim, though not as soft and gently curvaceous as Miss Brown. I find her attractive in that tomboyish kind of way. She played ball at a religious school and often speaks (especially to the team members) in that fiery coach-speak manner, sprinkled with spiritually inspirational evangelically edgy rhetoric. So I don't know how far I'd get with her, but she is in the wholesale book business and so the family likes the profit angle of me schmoozing her. Her specialty is athletic titles, coach guides, some martial arts. Monday was gonna be a long day of doing business with her at our bookshop followed by a hoops tournament that evening.
As expected, the big announcement concerned Mom's plans to husband and stepfather over in Thailand. It's a somber occasion as she doesn't necessarily want to go but there is suspicion of him being "involved" with someone over there, shall we say. Soon however, after the men started pulling away from the table to admirably assist Viv with after meal clean-up, conversation shifted to my goings on and particularly that teacher frequently seen shopping at our bookstore.
"How old would she be," inquired Theresa.
"She was not too soon outta college when I had her, so probably ten or twelve years or so," I answered.
"You stayed after school a lot," giggled Viv, "I bet you were the teachers pet, huh?"
"Seems nice, very pretty. Hobbling around on a cane maybe makes her look a bit older " Mom interjected as everyone rejoined the table to sip coffee and tea.
The comments made me twist my lips together a bit irritably. "Well, I did have a lot of remedial work but also played sports."
"She married," Brenda asked.
"No, never been I think. Lives alone far as I know." I said.
"Well Ed here went through formal schooling but you sisters were home tutored and yet you all turned out great, so..." interjected Theresa's husband Roy.
Brenda inserted an after-dinner mint in her mouth, gently glanced over and touched me on the arm before speaking. "Some of these academic types" she began in her subtle Southern twang, "When I played basketball and soccer at the college, there was this physiology grad assistant who worked as a trainer and assistant coach. Helga, I think she was foreign grad student... Hungarian, I think. I used to cramp up a lot late in games and she, uh, administer treatment, tape my ankles and all."
She glanced up at me smiling somewhat nervously, "Well, on the massage table she seemed a little too, uh, fixated on my tushie!"
The men kinda rolled their eyes, while Mom tilted her head back in kind of a disapproving way while the girls let out a collective sigh of mild disdain.
As I started wondering why she was telling this, as if it were confessional or maybe wanting covertly for me and the others to feel somewhat titillated, Viv prodded, "So how'd you handle that?"
"It was really cold during a soccer match. So I wore a pair of shorts under my uniform shorts that laced up tight in the back. I cramped up and got subbed out late in the game and went into the locker room where she was getting ready to work on me on the massage table. She's talking all sweet to get me to relax and then reached under the waistband of my soccer shorts and starts tugging on the lacing underneath. So I look back at her and say, 'No, no, no, Helga honey' and she's like 'Uh oh.' And I say "God can see your handiwork Helga!"
Everyone kinda giggled nervously and then there was a bit of a pregnant pause. She continued, "She was kinda cold and aloof with me after that, as you might expect. She left the college at the end of the year."
Mom quickly tried to change subjects, "So you are meeting with Ed at the store tomorrow? Before basketball?"
"Right, got some interesting new books for us, do ya Brenda?"
She nodded at me "Yep, Eddie, busy day tomorrow!"
Monday back at the store, indeed Mom and Brenda kept me busy going over wholesale book orders and all the paperwork that it entails. Later on in the afternoon we had Lori come in again.
"Your favorite teacher's here," Mom said smiling over at Brenda leaning against the stacks of health and fitness titles.
She was using her chair today, a lightweight blue chrome sporty looking thing.
"It's a type of Escort Yenimahalle (https://yenimahalle.t2bro.net/) arthritic condition," she explained as I waited on her and helped fill her bags with some books. This time the titles concerned dream interpretation, as usual, plus some subjects related to reincarnation, people with past lives played out during Victorian times, etc.
"After several days of cold very humid weather, my body tends to become tight and a lot less mobile she said with a sigh. Ah, I want to show you something," she pulled out some paperwork from her handbag. "I noticed you have meeting room space back there. My woman's group needs a place to hold our next event."
She smiled and handed me one of the brochures, "Kind of like an historical themed costume party."
The brochure had artwork and pictures of women and models dressed in 19th century period clothing. The title said: "Of Bloomers, Chemises