Alexander's Gift

The Maverick- 6

Monty didn't feel like meeting Grace's parents- he had the budding suspicion they were good friends with his mother already, so he just pulled up in front of the house- a traditional, three-story monster of a house with real acreage that had obviously been passed down for several generations. It made sense now why he had been set up with Grace.

A minute later the looming red front door opened, and Grace came racing out, clutching her dress in both hands so as not to trip- although he didn't quite understand how she didn't trip with the four-inch stilettos she was wearing.

She slid into the passenger's seat and turned to him with a wide smile. He couldn't help grinning back in amusement as he drove away, and asked, "Why is it that you're so happy all the time?"

Grace laughed giddily with a white-gloved hand covering her mouth. "I don't know, I just am. Probably because of Danny. We're going to get married, I just know it. He's the one."

Glancing her way with a thoughtful frown, Monty sighed inaudibly. Love. What was it that made people become like Grace? Was love really the answer? What about people who never found true love? Would their life never be complete?

"I'm glad for you. Really, I am." He eventually said softly, and then added with a chuckle, "By the way, where are we going again?"

"Ciro's. Danny's got a table reserved for us."

As Monty watched Grace walk into Ciro's, he felt a strange warmth towards her. It wasn't often he found someone he could just sit beside and, whether they talked or not, be comfortable with. He made no mistake about it, they weren't exactly bosom friends, but it was still a pleasant surprise most likely attributed to the fact things were strictly straight forward and understood between them.

He leaned back in his seat as the engine rumbled beneath him, wondering with eyes closed wearily where he was going to go until he had to bring Grace home. His first thought was to grab a coffee and read a book, but then he knew what he was going to do.

###

The railroad station was sparsely populated that night, and Monty knew with one glance to the setting sun this was going to be a memorable train ride. Little did he know how memorable it would turn out to be.

The rails were a glowing light-yellow cutting through the dull, blurred landscape. Where the sky touched the horizon, it seemed a bright fog the color of a daffodil. The center of the sky was a slash of night, though they were really just clouds black against the sun.

It seemed to Monty that they were going to ride right into the sky. It seemed that was where death lay, and as beautiful as it was, it scared him.

It took Monty thirty minutes to catch sight of her, sitting in the seat in the aisle across from him. Sitting didn't seem an appropriate word for just what she was doing, as it seemed too harsh; too common. The woman held herself primly upward, as if there was a string being pulled upward from the crown of her head, and the lines of her body narrowed femininely at the waist of her white dress before widening and splitting off into two long legs sculpted by the tight sheen of a stocking. Her face was mesmerizing as she gazed ahead elegantly- a statue that didn't seem to breathe, move, or even be. Her thickly lashed eyes rested closed in contentment as if she was melting into the train and the experience of it, but as Monty was staring, two strikingly blue, glittering eyes flicked open and looked directly at him.

Monty's heart skipped a beat when he realized he was caught, and so decided to go all the way and hold her curious gaze.

"Hello. Do you find me interesting or just attractive?" Her voice was the epitome of feminine elegance, it's regionality falling somewhere between America and Britain. Scarlet streaked Monty's face despite himself, and he answered meekly, "I haven't decided yet." She laughed, a bubbly, tinkling, laugh that caught Monty's attention fully.