I turned off I-81 and followed coaster-like Beacon Road towards Fell Industrial Park. My Nova's headlamps showed a myriad of crisp autumn leaves swirling like a parade of sprites desperate to get out of my path. The drab color of the leaves depressed me as if the sky recently unleashed a storm of fortune cookies, but the fortunes were gone now and only their tasteless husks remained. To cheer up, I tried to focus on Jen. She took off last week for her sister's wedding and the various festivities that surrounded it. Because of the absence, it was difficult to conjure up her lovely face for more than a moment or two at a time. As my Nova continued to rattle towards the industrial park, my heart buzzed like an old electric razor - some bastard kid messing with the controls, switching it on and off intermittently.
I punched in a few minutes before eleven and found Jen sitting alone at a table in our bright, homespun break room. Her dirt-blond hair was shoulder-length and she wore it pulled back in a short ponytail. A crimson pullover resembling a thermal t-shirt, but made of a thinner material, draped her upper body like liquid gold. I paused a moment in the doorway filling in the gaps where my memory had failed - her blue/black eyes and animate brows; her lips that looked carved from one of those pinkish-red, block erasers children used to rub away their mistakes; her ruddy complexion reminiscent of a soup commercial. I had all the details, but it took seeing her to put them all together correctly.
"Hey, stranger," I greeted her and she gifted me with her smile. I tossed my lunch bag in the fridge and took a seat across from her. "How's the cold?"
"Oh," she piped, surprised that I remembered. "Much better, thanks."
"So, you enjoyed the wedding, then?"
Her whole face rose triumphantly, "I have pictures," she sang, waving the thick packet of photos like a trophy. She came around to my side and pulled a chair next to mine. "Let's see," she sighed, looping a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Here's me and my sister..."
"Nice." I glanced quickly at the photo. Jen smelled of baby powder. I felt a fresh warmth radiating from her and realized she had stepped naked from a shower not long before coming to work.
"Oh. Here's me and Phil."
It took a minute to register. Then I looked down at the photo. There was Jen smiling up at me in her bridesmaid gown - low-cut, green taffeta - and next to her, his right arm around her trim waist, stood this Phil character sporting a tux and a goofy grin. He resembled a young Christopher Walken, the way his eyes bore down on the camera. Christopher Walken is probably a decent guy, but he usually plays bad guys on film, so right away I saw this Phil character as a bad guy.
Before I could confirm the obvious, Jen's best friend, Linda entered the break room. For Linda's benefit, Jen shuffled back to the first photo.
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