Sophisticated Lady - a short story by Florence Liberfarb...

“What a hick!” Alice thought when she first met Hank.

He had recently moved to the retirement community where she lived from the Midwest. What could one expect! Even his accent said it all. Still he had a certain charm in a hayseed kind of way. For sure, he was not her type.

Alice was big city born and bred. She was knowledgeable about style, fine dining, the arts, as well as quite fluent with witty repartee.

Hank, on the other hand, was a man of few words, who had managed his own farm back then. Yet, it was obvious that he was immensely attracted to her.

Curiosity more than anything prompted Alice to keep accepting his invitations. He always let the choice be hers, whether or not it was theater, a concert, or a lecture.

One evening after returning from an opening of a new art exhibit and wine tasting event, he came up with a new idea.

“Why don’t we drive out to the country? Perhaps tomorrow,” he suggested.

“Country?” she asked, somewhat bewildered.

“Yes, I figure if we just head away from the ocean, there’s got to be some open space.”

He called for her the next morning. She looked her usual glamorous self. Hair, tousled, with gold ringlets all gathered up in a ribbon and dressed in a silk, melon colored pantsuit. Her makeup left her skin soft and glowing.

Hank took it all in with a quick, melting glance. Yet, he said nothing. Pretty words would not come, intimidated as he was by her beauty and sophistication.

Alice settled back. She liked the way he handled a car. Probably learned how driving a tractor all those years.

“I drove a tractor since I was eight years old,” he told her to her amazement. “This feels like flying to me.”

Eventually they did leave the heavily settled areas behind. And now they were deep in the country. They passed large farms with cows, most of the lying down.

“Oh-oh,” he said. “Rain on the way.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“The cows. When they lie down like that it’s always a sure bet. Maybe we can race ahead of it.”

Suddenly the car lurched and began to stall. Hank managed to steer it off to the side of the road.

“I think we’re in trouble,” he told her, frowning.

“You have a cell phone; don’t you?” she asked.

“Afraid not.”

He got out of the car and looked under the hood. After checking he came to her door.

“We passed a garage about a mile down the road. I’ll walk there and get help. There was a tow truck in the driveway. You can lock yourself in. I won’t be long,” he said.

That prospect did not appeal to Alice.

“No, I’ll go with you. I have walking shoes on, although they may not look like it,” she said.

“Good! Let’s go,” Hank said, reaching for her hand.

“It’s really very pleasant here,” Alice said, breathing deeply.

“I walked five mile to school every day when I was a kid,” he said.

“No school buses?”

“Not then. Does it rain around here rather suddenly?” he asked, looking up at the sky.

Sure enough, almost near their destination, what started off as a few drops suddenly became real. In no time they were both soaked through. Unfortunately, all her tight little curls came undone, dripping and clinging to her cheeks, like hanging moss. Her makeup too, began to disappear. She wanted to cry until she looked at Hank. He was smiling at her, the sparkle in his eye belying his age.

“You never looked more adorable,” he said. “Come on. We can see the place from here. Let’s make a run for it,” his arm around her.

They managed to get to the general store / garage just before the deluge. And yes, there was a tow truck and even a telephone and rest rooms.

She did what she could with paper towels, beyond caring that the placed lacked a mirror.

Hank was waiting for her with two cups of steaming coffee as he sat on a bench on the front porch that protected them from the storm.

“I called a cab,” he told her. “I’ll get you home soon. You can take a hot shower and be once more as you were.”

She smiled, thanking him for the coffee.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to take pictures of you,” he said, “but after what happened today, the Alice I see is the one I’ll most treasure.”

Alice said nothing, just smiled, as she sat beside him on the hard, wooden bench, sipping hot coffee from a paper cup and feeling so unexpectedly content.

Florence Liberfarb writes poetry, short stories and plays. You may freely republish this story for non-commercial use provided you follow the Publisher Guidelines and provide a hyperlink (electronic media) to the Wordly Web Site. You may not alter the copyright notice or edit the content of this story. Please notify the author of your intent to republish. Commercial use of this story requires written permission and payment of a royalty.

Sophisticated Lady by Florence Liberfarb

www.wordly.net

Poems, Stories, and Plays by

Florence Liberfarb