Ninety-Seven Windows, Serena Axel [interesting novels to read .TXT] 📗

I pulled up in front of my store, and while the car was still running I rested my head on the steering wheel. It wasn’t spring, but I felt like I had spring fever. I found myself daydreaming of how my life used to be, when Marty was still alive, while our favorite old cd played. I longed to feel the way I did before Marty had gotten ill, when life was full of love and family. I especially wanted those feelings when love was new. Taking hold of the car door I wished to stay in this cocooned space a few minutes more, but knew I had to let go and get to work. Suddenly I felt something wet on my arm, and I looked to see slobber. Butch had brought me back to reality.

“Sorry boy, I guess we have to go in and get on with our day, but did you have to do that?”

I darted out of the car. I hoped to find a towel or something so I wouldn’t have to go around like this the rest of the day, with his drool on my sleeve. I had Butch in tow and opened the shop door. The phone was ringing off the hook. At that moment I had to smile, pleased with the fact that I hadn’t given out my cell number to clients. With my guard dog at my side, I hurriedly but gently pushed him through the door.

Looking down at his pouty face, I mumbled, “I think you’ve put on a few pounds. Have I neglected you? We definitely need to walk more.” Butch wagged his stubby tail as I inhaled and then blew my overgrown bangs out of my eyes.

I had a life away from work, and tried as hard as I could to keep work and home separate. Having said that, there would always be exceptions, like Michael. I had fallen for him, and I still have the chair that brought us together. Lately, though, he was always so busy, and traveling a lot for work. I'd stopped by his office a couple of times, and his assistant gave me a bad feeling. I could tell she didn’t like me, and she made no secret of it. In conversations with Michael, he mentioned how he couldn’t get along without her, though. I wanted reassurance that he felt that way about me

Stop! I had to stop thinking about both Michael and Marty, and concentrate on my work.

I sailed to my desk, tossed down my purse, and got to the phone on what must surely have been the last ring.

“Hello, Second Life. Sarah speaking.” I gulped, catching my breath. I wedged the phone under my chin while I did what I do best. I hit the keyboard, pulled up sources on the computer, and furiously began taking notes at the same time. Smiling, this is when an extra couple of arms would come in handy. I opened the filing cabinet, looked through a sea of manilla folders--all very neat and orderly thanks to Mrs. Pye, my part time worker. I‘m basically a slob, and my desk could have mountains of paperwork, but I could always find things. You know what they say: the artist can paint but has a hard time selling himself and his work. How could I have given Mrs. Pye this weekend off with so much on my plate? My daughter Suzie was having her sixteenth birthday tomorrow, and I had so much to do. She was so hard for me to reach. Suzie and I butted heads all the time, and yet Michael seemed to connect with her

I need a cup of coffee.

“No I don’t see any windows in my inventory at the moment, but I’m sure I can find some for you. Let me get an idea what you’re looking for. Do you want them for decorating or to replace some windows you have?”

I sat at my desk taking notes as the woman on the other end of the line rambled on, I was continuously brushing my hair out of my face. You see, it wasn’t long enough to scoop behind my ears yet. Oh, I never should have had bangs, and growing them out was a real pain. Searching the desk I found a large paper clip and put it in my hair till I could find something better. Now able to concentrate on the client, I asked her if she could drop by the shop, and told her it would be helpful if she had pictures of the windows she wanted to replace. A previous owner or someone had built an addition to her house, she mentioned. She wanted the windows to match the rest of her old Victorian. The new client made an appointment for 9 a.m. the next day, and told me she could send me a fax with the pictures of the windows.

“Okay Mrs. Baxter, see you tomorrow at nine.” I hung up the phone and knew I would need help with the installation of the windows, once I located them, and Ryan’s name popped into my head. He was a contractor, and my husband’s best friend. He helped me get through the tough times after Marty died. He always made the time for me in his busy schedule when anything involved carpentry work, and I knew he would enjoy this job. I sat there, my eyes glued to the fax machine, but nothing was happening

I looked at Butch again, and my shirt, which had now stuck to my arm with doggie glue, and hoped no one would notice. Just in case, I grabbed a sweater.

With my voice an octave higher I said, “Let’s go see Maggie." At the mere mention of her name, Butch's whole back end would shake uncontrollably, and it always made me laugh.

Caffeine here I come.

Maggie's cafe was only a couple of blocks away, and we could both do with a little fresh air and a walk. I had to be careful at the mention of her name, what with Butch's whole back end shaking uncontrollably. When we would walk in Maggie's door, the aroma of fresh baked bread and muffins never failed to tickle my taste-buds, and my stomach would inevitably let out an unbelievable growl that I know even Butch could hear.

"I guess I should’ve eaten breakfast. Oh no. Now I'm talking to the dog--and in public. Heaven help me!"

Rounding the corner with all of the cute shops, the cafe came in sight, and my feet couldn’t move fast enough. Finally at the front door I could see Maggie's smiling face, and noticed the place was packed as usual.

"Hey stranger, we've missed you." Maggie smiled hugged me, and rocked me back and forth.

“Sit down sweetie. Have you eaten anything today? Look at you! You’re too skinny? “

"I'm dying for a cup of coffee."

"You’ll have a cup of coffee and more. You sit tight. I want to hear what you've been up to.”

Maggie came back a moment later with a breakfast fit for a lumberjack. Scrambled eggs, fruit, and my favorite--a Blueberry muffin.

"You know me too well," I said when she set the platter and the coffee down. "I am starving. Maggie you're the best. I've missed talking to you, girl."

She reached down and made over Butch, (his jowls were elastic), then grabbed a biscuit from her apron pocket. "Here you go boy. Eat slowly so I can sit for a while with your master.

"Okay spill it. Let me know everything that’s going on."

"Ok. For starters, tomorrow Suzie will be fifteen."

Maggie's mouth fell open. "I can't believe how fast she's grown up."

"Michael got her tickets to a Bruno Mars concert. First we're taking her with a couple of her friends out to dinner, then afterward we’ll drop them off at the concert. Michael offered to pick them up and drive everyone home when it ended. You know, Suzie has really taken to him, and that worries me because Michael and I aren't as close as I hoped. He’s always working, Maggie. Oh he remembers my birthday and special occasions, but most of the time I spend alone."

I started to feel the tears coming on, and I had to take a deep breath and then eat so I wouldn’t have to go on about Michael. I knew Maggie could see I was uncomfortable, and so didn’t push any more about him. She diplomatically changed course.

"How's your business doing?"

“I have an appointment with a new client tomorrow morning, we’ll see how that goes. I think I'll need to have Ryan’s help if I get the job,” I answered.

Maggie elbowed me and laughed. "He’s a real cutie. I’d find it hard working around someone so handsome.”

“He’s just a friend." I blushed; looked down at my plate. "That breakfast was great, just what I needed," I said rubbing my stomach.

“Breakfast is on me today. You need to eat, young lady.

"Well, got to get back to my customers. You stop by anytime, okay? And bring Ryan with you next time." She winked, and we hugged.

Butch and I finished our breakfast, and then headed back to the store.

The day was gorgeous. I almost skipped back to work. The sky was painted an Egyptian Blue, allowing me to imagine the coming of spring, my favorite season. 

I was stuffed, and Butch seemed happy enough about that, but he never took his eyes off the two separate doggie bags Maggie had given us for lunch. With coffee in hand, and Butch in tow, we enjoyed our stroll, but I still felt a little flighty. Suddenly at my front door Butch jerked on the leash, and whined. 

I bent down when he started snorting, and really pulling, “What’s wrong boy?”           

Unable to calm him, I opened the creaky old shop door, and then let him off the leash. I quickly placed our lunch and my steaming cup of coffee on the front counter.   Butch was wild as he whined, running up and down the jagged aisles. I don’t know if I’d ever seen him like that. I couldn’t hold back the laughter. I saw him making an attempt to jump onto an overstuffed library chair. Then seconds later he was squirming on the floor, under a small side table. That did it. He looked like he was attached to the table and began to whimper. He was stuck. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a white flash dart across a hutch in front