Free Forever Friday by Timothy Lewis

May Day had started so full of promise. Dancing and imagining. The chance to see Gabe the most daring dance of all. She peeked beneath her purse at the chocolate handprints. At least he wouldn’t see her in this embarrassing condition.
    She managed to squeeze onto the next streetcar, several passengersbehind a matronly woman carrying a large shopping bag and a stack of hatboxes. The woman plunked into the last available seat. Huck couldn’t see very well, but she heard the woman order a man standing in the aisle to hold her boxes while she dug something out of the bag. As the streetcar began rolling, Huck decided the rear platform would be better than the stuffy aisle, so she moved in that direction. It was awkward to keep her purse over the handprints and steady herself at the same time.
    “Pardon me,” Huck said, maneuvering along the crowded aisle.
    The man holding the hatboxes, his face hidden, was just a few feet ahead, blocking her path.
    “Pardon me,” Huck said again. The matronly woman, still digging, was blabbering too loudly for anyone else to hear.
    As they picked up speed, the man shifted slightly toward Huck. Suddenly, the streetcar swayed, then jerked, and she lost her balance. Dropping her purse, she turned to grab the nearest seat and slipped, falling backward into the man. The next thing Huck knew, she sat in the aisle amid crushed hatboxes … in the lap of a total stranger.
    “My hats!” screamed the woman. “You’ve ruined my new hats.”
    Someone helped Huck to her feet. “I’m so sorry,” she said to the woman. Then turning toward the stranger she asked, “Are you all right?” Huck looked down. The man’s sea-sky eyes and crooked grin met her gaze.
    “Nice dress,” Gabe Alexander said casually. “I have a passion for … um … chocolate.”

    Earlier that Saturday morning, Gabe awakened in the bedroom of his small garage apartment and couldn’t go back to sleep. He glanced at thebedside clock. Four a.m. Usually he woke early due to worry, and he’d wrestle the sheets for hours in anxiety. If he tried hard enough and didn’t allow his mind to become too anxious, he could refocus his thoughts on something pleasant, eventually drifting back into slumber. But this time, the “something” pleasant was a “someone”—Miss Huck Huckabee to be exact. So he lay there a wide-eyed-while longer, tapping his fingers to the clock’s tick, finally deciding to get up. Since he had the day off, it might be wise to spend some nonworking time at his office watching for Huck. Most women shopped early, and this was the most popular errand day of the week.
    Gabe threw back the covers, sat on the edge of the bed, and scratched the stubble on his chin. He wasn’t in the mood but had promised to meet his friend Charlie downtown for a late breakfast. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. He’d much rather be meeting Huck.
    After stumbling into the kitchen, Gabe put some water on to boil while he showered, shaved, and brushed his teeth, all the while concocting sequel scenarios about why Huck had never returned to Cecil’s. He slapped on a little aftershave and remembered it had been over a month since they’d met. After donning clean boxers, socks, and a freshly laundered dress shirt, he dripped a pot of coffee, then sulked through two cups, the first black and the second with cream. Between sips, he wondered not for the first time if his oyster comment had offended her. She might already have a diamond … and a fellow to go along with it.
    He rinsed out the coffeepot and cup, then slipped into a gray linen suit. Standing before his dressing table, he faced the mirror and picked up a bottle he’d purchased the previous day. Wildroot Hair Tonic promised to help “if your romance hung by a hair.”
    “What romance?” Gabe mumbled at his reflection. He rubbed a sprinkle of Wildroot through his hair and combed it into place.
    His hat and suit jacket felt good in the cool morning breeze as he