Finding Annabelle CH. 3

A Chapter by nrbthe1st

I looked up after being distracted by my train of thought. Slightly confused as to what had just happened.

Once I had regained the wherewithal of what had just occurred I immediately replied,” You can count on my presence!”

With that she smiled and walked away.

I intently watched as she walked away with a bounce in her step. It was a bounce that had not been there previously. I can only speculate to why it had just appeared. Perhaps it was Saudade. A word I find to be perfect for the plausible situation. Its etymological origins are from that of Portugal and Galicia. It is used to describe the love that remains for someone after they are gone. The fact that she thought I was a marine, and someone with somewhat close relations with her late fiancé could have caused her see him in myself. In no way shape or form am I comparing myself to a United States Marine, but there is the possibility she could see me in him.

I would have to remind me of this later in the case that she were to conflate Chris and me.

With that being thought I walked back to the escalade shut the door and began driving down the dirt road. I drove for hours. It is something I do when I am perturbed. I kept running the outcomes of the impending dinner with Annabelle through my head. The possibilities were endless. It could go over swimmingly after I tell her that I lied to her, and I was the reason she no longer had a fiancé. Yeah, that was bound to happen. Not! Almost every outcome that passed through my brain ended in me at the very least getting slapped while being asked to leave.

I had to find the not only the right words but the right time to introduce the truth to her.

It seemed as if I had been driving for what seemed like an eternity. I looked down at the clock and it said five thirty. I was still about twenty minutes away from Annabelle’s near the next town over, and I needed to stop and pick up something to bring to dinner. I spent a good time searching for a liquor store to get a bottle of wine. Finally I came upon an ABC liquor which one might think is odd to be in the country side but I really was no longer in Morrison. I had been driving for as I said what seemed like an eternity. I found myself driving in the city of Clinton, IA. I had driven over the border without noticing. I guess this is beyond the point. I came up on the ABC liquor and pulled into a spot. I walked into the store and immediately began perusing the aisles for the perfect bottle of wine. Immediately, a bottle had caught my eye. I was all to familiar with the label. Looking at it took me back to when I was a budding young music producer; just starting to make it big. I had just signed a band to my label called “88 m.p.h.” Their first hit song was named the oxymoron song. It was about a guy was in love with a girl and his world was backwards until they were together because she was the only thing that could make things right. The backwardness was conveyed by oxymorons. The melody was sweet, soft, and endearing. It had all the right components to be a hit song. I knew I had to sign them as soon as I heard them playing at a little dive in downtown Seattle. Yet again I am getting beyond the point. After 88 M.P.H. had made it I had sat down to the girl who had been the sole reason for all my accomplishments at the time. I sat down to her and a bottle of Chateau Montelena Estate Cabernet Sauvignon. A wonderful cabernet sauvignon from 2010. That night was the best night of my life thus far but I won’t get into the bad part quite yet. The bottle had sentimental value and it was bound to bring me good luck this time. It had to. I was just hoping that I would not screw this up as bad as I had last time. With that being said I picked up the bottle and headed to the register where I saw a rather shady male arms covered by a sleeve of tattoo’s. They looked rather crude like they were done with a needle and a ballpoint pen. There were some in what looked like Semitic characters; others looked like crudely drawn animals and skulls. Being the social butterfly I am I glanced up in his direction and gave him a nod. Not that I respected some sort of response, but none was given other than a rather menacing and intimidating glare. As I stepped up to the register, the man grabbed his six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer and went to his car. From that, point on I didn’t pay him much attention. I placed the bottle of wine on the counter as the clerk asked, “What’s the occasion?” In which I replied, “Nothing too special, just having dinner with an acquaintance.” He then pointed out that acquaintances usually do not buy other acquaintances $150 bottles of wine. I did not pay any attention to the comment though. I knew that seeing this bottle of wine was a sign that I was meant to tell Annabelle about her late fiancé Chris’ demise. I was also hoping that it would go over even smoother than the last time I opened a bottle of Chateau Montelena Estate Cabernet Sauvignon. The Cashier gave me the total it was $159 flat. The door of the establishment opened again along with the ping that let the clerk know that someone was entering the store. I looked up and it was the creepy guy coming in to try and bum off some smokes from the clerk. He looked at me I was pulling out my “Black Card” from American Express. He saw it and smiled. “Nice card” he said. “ Are you some sort of rich folk?” I smiled nervously, grabbed the bottle of wine, and began towards my car. He didn’t seem to like the fact that I had ignored him. He called out to me as I was almost at my car, “ Hey Richie Rich! Will you at least buy me some smokes?” I ignored him a second time, opened the door to the escalade hopped in and began to drive away.