It was Sheila that had kept the bookshop running when Faun was away and had volunteered to pick Faun up at the airport upon her return, whereupon using the opportunity to fill Faun in on all the latest gossip,
“Ohhh! Lenny and Lonnie broke up; newsflash,” was one of the first things that had come out of her mouth before Faun had fastened the seatbelt
Even so….
“Wow, that’s a shocker, even for an outsider like me,” Faun was saying as Sheila pulled onto the road, the full mountain range, the now familiar backdrop, lending the moment a kind of nostalgic scene within Faun's poetic dreamy mind
….watching those quaint and quiet familiar little road roll by with their sleepy mystery at this late hour after twelve midnight
Faun thought about this now as she sat in the shop’s office…. weeks of figures to correct (Sheila wasn’t great with business numbers) and a head ache of deposits to go through with the bank (as money was not really Sheila’s forte either), but the shop was clean; it hadn’t burnt down; the customers were happy; the sales very good so….
how could Faun complain ? And it kept her busy from thinking too much about …. life
Life …. as reminders of its ephemeral gift/lesson is only given on loan and seeing everyone again …. made her realize how time is going by— everyone looked so ….old
and she found herself often in a corner terrified with the clear reality of this…..
all holiday fun included on her overwhelming trip she had returned from but ….also …. the lack of any presence of Grant
And as Sheila had driven Faun home from the airport, hardly taking a breath about everything Faun had missed about everyone in the neighborhood …. Faun waited
she waited for any mention about Grant
They were all the way on the road they lived on and Faun had looked up, automatically ….to his window ….as Sheila drove past the entrance before pulling into the driveway, next to Faun’s yellow Volvo. She had noticed though ….his light was not on and the window was completely dark.
Faun hesitated and took a moment as she reached to open the passenger side door, clearing her throat and looked over at Sheila as she also opened her door to get out
“Uh—any messages?” Faun hesitated to ask but then vaulted herself out of the seat, not wanting to appear desperate
With her backpack and carryon, Faun had stood outside as she slammed it shut, noticing that Sheila looked at her blankly. Sheila followed her to the door
“Oh wait! That’s right!” Sheila said as Faun turned the door nib to go in—but Sheila cut in front of her, “his message! I’m supposed to check your place before I let you in when I drop you off—you meant English guy—I never remember his name, if I think of Depeche Mode, it comes to me; Grant—“
It was too cold to ask as Sheila ran in to turn lights on and check all the rooms. Faun had waited outside shivering
When the coast was clear, Faun had to wait for her teeth to stop chattering to speak and when she finally could say something, she said,
“I don’t get the connection but—was that the only message he left?”
“You know,” Sheila had rolled her eyes, “British guy, British band—S and M —Grant ….lets play master and servant —and he looks the type,” was all she could then elaborate upon
