Flash Fiction piece

Keelie Winslow           

Saturday Mornings

Emily decided on The Catcher in the Rye grabbed it from its place on her bedside bookshelf.  Walking out the door to the black Jetta, she adjusted the length of her sundress and tucked the book in her bag. She checked her hair in the reflection from the car window and wiped the edge of her lip with her thumb to ensure all lipstick remained inside the lines. Heaving a sigh, she threw open the door and tossed her bag in the passenger seat and kept grabbing her seatbelt so quickly it took several attempts to get it to stop locking and fully wrapped around to be clicked into place. She backed out of the apartment’s driveway and headed towards downtown.

            Within a quarter of an hour she was pulling into the bakery’s parking lot. Emily parked in her usual spot and checked herself in the mirror one last time, reapplying mascara and popped a piece of gum in her mouth.

            Her bag was light; she never carried much with her. She found it bothersome to lug around pounds of items that really would have no use to her while out and about. Her mother’s bag used to feel like it weighed twenty pounds. The contents of her cream, leather hobo were lip stain, chapstick, her wallet, cell phone, floss, gum, and today, of course, The Cather in the Rye. She walked in the bakery, ordered her self a lemon poppy seed muffin, toasted, and a coffee then took a seat by the window. The sun was slanting in and she opened up the book while enjoying the buttery, warm muffin.

            Chris walked through the door wearing a black leather jacket, a plaid shirt, and worn in jeans. At the sound of the bell on the door she looked up and nearly spilled her cup of coffee. She watched as he ordered his medium iced tea and everything bagel, but tried to look as though she wasn’t staring. She tilted her arms so the book was almost right in front of her face, its cover exposed to the world, and in its exposition, a potential conversation topic. She heaved a sigh and waited as he turned around to get find a seat. He chose the round table two down from her, which still kept him in pretty good view. She dropped and refocused her gaze almost rhythmically. He applied the cream cheese to his bagel liberally and took a small bite. He finally looked around and spotted Emily, who had thankfully stopped staring for a moment so when she looked up again it was he who felt he’d been caught watching her. He gave her a small wave that made her heart flutter and she returned it beaming.

            Just then the door jingled as a lanky brunette entered. She had a thin face and frame, wearing a denim shirt, tight black pants, and Frye boots. Emily noticed she walked in looking at Chris, and when she looked to see his response her stomach dropped. He got up from his table looking radiant, crossed the bakery to meet the brunette at the counter and kissed her. Emily didn’t even notice the book had dropped from her hands onto the floor. She pushed herself out of the chair, abandoned her breakfast and her book, and without looking again at Chris or his new piece of arm candy, proceeded out to the Jetta. She drove home feeling like her heart was beating in her throat and pulled into the driveway with tears streaming thick and fast down her face.

            Chris left the bakery a half hour later and noticing the book on the floor, picked it up saying to the brunette, “Aw man! I always loved this book! Such a classic!”