A Summer in Time

Chapter XII: Across the Miles: "The Difference a Day Makes"

A SUMMER IN TIME by Norman H. Goroshnik
CHAPTER XII: ACROSS THE MILES: "THE DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES"

For Paul, driving home from Cape Cod was anything but joyful.  Falling for someone and not knowing if they cared as much or saw the relationship in the same way was hard.

On Labor Day, about 5:00 o'clock, Paul found himself back in his apartment in Brooklyn.  David just lived two blocks away.  Paul had to sit down and write to Blair in Providence, Rhode Island.

Everything was fresh in his mind, he didn't want to let go!   He though he could write the night before leaving Hyannisport.

The paper he was writing on came alive.  He wrote as if he was speaking to Blair, his newly found soulmate.  “My dearest Blair,” the letter began, expressing Paul's best hopes from across the miles.

Fall in Brooklyn was hard for Paul. The cold winds and rainy days were almost a daily occurrence.  Wearing his raincoat, Paul pulled down his hat fighting off the weather.

New York can be exciting.  And yet, it can be lonely.  It became bleak and sad for Paul.     

It had to be equally difficult for Blair to read and relive Paul's dream in script.  It would not have been that bad had she trusted him and talked over her feelings with Paul.  But she did not confide in Paul when they were together.  Sort of  short-changing the relationship.  Even though, it came down to the fact that there was a proper bond between them.

Each night, Paul came home from work, hoping there would be a letter from Blair waiting in the mailbox of his Brooklyn apartment house.    

But the months went by without a word.  He could have called but he felt he would be overreaching.  Paul chose to wait and see if he would receive any positive response from Blair.

Any daily incident could spark Paul's imagination.  Words came easy and emotions came hard.                                  

Paul would have to accept that this was the way it was going to be with Blair.  Regardless, Paul kept his faith.  Paul immersed himself in his work.  He worked hard at everything he did.  Paul couldn't help but feel all along that he was not lucky.  He blamed himself as he always did, about everything. 

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Two years went by.  The seasons came and the seasons went.  Letters from Paul addressed to Blair arrived in Providence less frequently.

At about that stage in the game, Paul was able to afford to go on dates, to take in Broadway shows and concerts and visit museums and Jazz nightclubs.

Paul never mentioned to Blair that he had wanted to be a professional musician.  He studied to be a classical percussionist and was a drummer with small groups.  He was accepted to Julliard School of Music.

In the interim, Paul played clubs all over New York.  He needed to work to make money and therefore could not spend all day, each day studying and practicing.  He left school after two years.  Paul's day job was selling office products for a dealer on East 42nd Street in Manhattan.  He trained and learned the business and was good at what he did.

On a Friday morning, on his way to work, Paul checked his mailbox and found a letter from Blair on blue stationery!  She wrote to Paul to tell him about her job and that she was doing fine.   She included no explanation for her not writing all this time.  No excuse. Nothing. Paul could have passed out cold in front of his mailbox!

Why now after all the letters he had written?  Blair's letter, sent out of the blue, set Paul in motion.

Saturday morning, Paul left Brooklyn. He drove toward the highway.  He was headed for Providence, Rhode Island and come hell or high water, he was going to find Blair!

In her letter, she mentioned the name of the department store where she was working.  He knew Saturday afternoon always a big shopping day and that is where she would be!

He drove without stopping to rest, reaching Providence in four hours.  Paul found the right streets that led to the downtown area.  He pulled into a parking space and had to sit for a minute to relax.   

After combing his hair he was ready to find Blair.  Paul took the elevator to Women’s Wear on the third floor.  The doors opened and lo and behold, there she stood in front of a counter, facing the elevator!  

"What are you doing here?"  you exclaimed, shocked to see Paul.    

"Blair, I got your letter and I had to come and see you, it has been a long time!"     

"Well I am working now," you answered abruptly, "I can’t just leave!"

"I understand that,” he said, "but I came a long way."  

"You will have to wait for me outside in front of the store."

"That’s fine," Paul said.  He took one last look at Blair, refreshing his memory of how she looked on Cape Cod.  And with that he turned to ring for the elevator.  Paul was a little disgusted by the greeting he received from Blair.  Most likely he scared her by just showing up.      

Paul stopped at a coffee shop next door to the department store to wait for Blair.  But he did not stay long.  He ordered a cup of coffee and a doughnut, but did not feel like eating so he went outside and positioned himself in front of the department store.

As he waited, Paul compared the crowds in Providence to those in Brooklyn.  Providence was definitely less crowded!  Everything was at a slower pace here.

For Paul, 5:00 o’clock could not come soon enough.  He spotted Blair, coming out of the store.  "I would like to go home first," you said approached him with neither a smile or a friendly greeting. 

You climbed into the passenger seat.  "This is a nice car."  

"It is a 1955  Dodge," Paul answered.  "I bought the showroom model, it was cheaper."

"How have you been?" you asked, desperately trying to relax.

"I am fine," came Paul's reply.  "How do I get to your house?"

"Keep to the right, so you can get into the traffic circle up ahead and just follow the street up the hill."

"I am sorry I surprised you the way I did.  I had to see you," Paul said as he drove, adjusting to the traffic pattern.

"You look very well, Paul,"  trying to make conversation, your blood pressure lowering a bit.

"So do you," he continued, "How is the job at the store?"

"It’s fine for now.  I might want to work in Boston for the Filenes.  I want to be a buyer for their women’s wear department.

Right away Paul’s impulse told him that would take you even further away from him.

From the looks of things Paul though Blair was calming down, acting more like herself.  Paul drove by Brown University on Thayer Street and turned right onto Blair's street in a residential neighboorhood.  All the middle class houses on the street were similar in appearance.

At the door Paul shook Blair’s mother’s hand when introduced.  Blair's mother was a lot shorter than him and he couldn't help but notice how much Blair looked like her.  He liked her right away.  Your father was not home yet from work it all went well.

"I am going up to change," you announced.

Paul found a comfortable chair, sitting in a neat and quiet wholesome household.  Paul noticed  how you lived.  Paul made conversation with Blair's mother.  Paul had a talent for getting people to open up to him.  He felt very much at home in your parent's house.

He spotted a large bay window that he fell in love with.  The platform seat had colorful seat pads, with a colonial print.  Paul had always lived in an apartment. 

An hour went by, before you descended the stairs.  Paul's eyes were glued on you as you came into the living room.  Respectfully, Paul stood and helped you on with your coat.

"I know a nice place to eat, just out of town," you suggested.

"That is fine," replied Paul.  There had been no mention prior of any plans for the evening. 

"Paul, are you coming?" you tried to tear Paul away from your mother.

As he drove, Paul forgave Blair for all the letters she did not write.  He recanted all the wrong impressions he had of her over the past few years.  It all seemed right and natural to be together.  Time and distance did not matter anymore.  The only thing that mattered was being with you there in the restaurant having dinner.

You sat across from one another, making small talk.  It must have taken great courage for you  to throw caution to the wind and say, "What the hell, he loves me! Why not?"   

Paul avoided being serious or anxious.  There was no need to display any frustration.  He was in no way irritated.  He just played it by ear, saying very little.

After eating, you said, "I think we should leave.  I'm a little tired, I had a busy day."  

Paul dropped some money on the table with the check and led you out to the parking lot.  He placed his hand on your right shoulder. 

The cool night air felt good as you walked to Paul’s car.  For the moment you forgot how tired you were.  This was indeed a big surprise!  Something all too familiar came to light!  The closeness, the belonging you had felt with Paul at Craigville Beach erupted again. It was uncanny and visible--a bond that felt like it would never end!

Arriving back at your house you said, "Paul, come to the house tomorrow for breakfast!"  Paul was paralyzed in utter disbelief.  A minute went by.

"Where are you staying?" you asked   

"I will get a room at the Narragansett Hotel," he responded, very positively.

"Come by at 10:00 o’clock.  I am sorry you can’t stay at my house, we don’t have a guest room."

"I will be fine," Paul answered politely.  Paul stood in front of you and kissed you on the cheek. "Good night, Blair."  

"Paul, I think you werecrazy to come all this way like you did!  Thanks for dinner.  I will see you in the morning."

Paul looked at his shoes to see if he was walking on glass or eggs.

"I will be on time."  Paul didn't know if he should bring something. But everything was closed on Sunday.  He turned and headed for his car.  Relief set in. At any rate, it could have been a lot more disappointing for Paul.  He had taken a big gamble driving to Providence.

Paul checked into the Narragansett Hotel.  The bar did not hold his interest.  He knew then his head was not going to let him rest.  Paul never could get use to sleeping in a strange bed.  But he looked forward to tomorrow.

It was exactly ten o’clock when Paul rang the doorbell.  You greeted him with a big smile.  It meant a lot to Paul to see what he saw, and to hear what he heard!                                  

"Hi, Paul, come on in.  I want you to meet my father," you said.  "Dad, this is Paul.  He is from New York.  We met when I was on vacation on Cape Cod."

Blair’s father was a businessman.  "How do you do, sir?" Paul shook his hand showing a talent for meeting people.  Paul was not as sure of himself as he would have liked to have been.  He  liked to let people know he was someone to reckon with.  Paul may not have had much to offer, ut he was ambitious.   

After breakfast, Blair’s parents left to go to a lecture at Brown University.  Alone together, Paul held you in the middle of the living room all the while.  He kissed you with all the dedication and affection that was long over due.  He did not want to let go while living his dream.

In a way it seemed that you cared for Paul.  But you were difficult to understand simply   because you said very little, never fully expressing your feelings.

He did not want a playmate.  He was ready for a partner.  Holding Blair, Paul wanted to belong, to search no longer.  He had found what he wanted.  Paul lived beyond that moment and flashing ahead, pictured the two of you married as he relived all the romantic feelings he had for you on Cape Cod.

"I love you!" Paul said.  "I will always love you.   We are meant to be together."  Paul watched your tears, held you tighter.  Then he said his goodbyes and left for the drive back home to New York, separating, softly as he left, closing the door behind him. 

Coming soon:
CHAPTER XIII :  a continuation of a heartfelt story and good reading.   What seems impossible can change, by having self-worth and making good choices.  And hope, which can lead directly to making successful decisions.

A Summer in Time: Table of Contents