Winters Song

The winters in Seattle are gloomy. You wake up to go to work in the darkness and go home from work in the darkness. Often when the light started to filter in through the clouds it would only reveal a thick wet fog. The atmosphere always felt a bit heavy and breathing in the chill water droplet filled air left ones lungs feeling heavy.

The whole city had a wet earthy smell punctuated by the aroma of coffee and clam chowder depending on what street corner you were on as well as the occasional scent of diesel from the busses that were ever present in the city.

During the few daylight hours, as you walked the streets you were hit by the grayness of it all. They gray pavement, the gray buildings, and the gray skies, even the Puget Sound took on a shade of gray that made the waters look dark and turbulent, a shade of gray that made the vast waters look lonesome.

So many thought of Seattle as a bastion of lush green trees, but not in the heart of the city; there it was a cold austere concrete jungle. True the unique shops, restaurants and clubs broke up some of the mundane repetitive sky scrappers, but still on those winter days the city seemed to have been colored with a box of gray crayons.

Sarah was like so many other early thirty something’s in the city. She lived in a condo and walked or rode the bus most places even though she had a nice little Volkswagen Jetta parked in the underground parking lot of her condo. It wasn’t that she didn’t like to drive, but with city traffic it was usually faster to walk or hop on a bus. She used her car mostly to drive out to the suburbs to visit her family. The suburbs were where green abounded and rather than depress the gray skies seemed to make the hues of green more vibrant and rich.

Sarah was part of the phenomenon of Seattle, career minded thirty-somes who were not married unless it was to a career. She had relationships, but they were transitory, shallow, gray. She had the same routine every morning; she left her condo at 6:30, walked to the coffee shop, then hopped on a bus for the few miles to work, arriving in the office shortly after 7 and well before the required 8am start time.

Her condo was off 4th & Wall Street; she could see the Space Needle, Monorail and Science Center from her window. Her coffee shop was one block up and had angel’s wings as part of its logo. She could frequent the Starbucks around the corner from her office, but the one she liked had a quirkier clientele, one she didn’t fit into, making it her one rebellion.

Seattle had its own dichotomy, the conformist up and coming yuppie sect and a rich melding of off beat, underground artists and beatniks. Sarah was an up and coming wearing a suit to the office with her heels and precise hair cut. She liked to claim that she went to that particular coffee shop because it was so close to her building, but honestly it was a walk a block and a half north of the direction she needed to go in order to go to work.

Her real reason to go to that coffee shop was Matt, a philosopher who was there every morning. She would pretend to read a newspaper while he talked with his friends about the politics and philosophies of the day. She occasionally said hi, but beyond that never showed that she recognized him or listened to what he had to say. To Sarah, Matt seemed free. He thought outside the box and had passion. In part it was what she wished she could be. He seemed to live in color while she matched the cities winter gray, a gray that was taking a turn for even more gray.

Each year in Seattle for at least a few days the city is almost sent to a stand still by snow. Some years are worse than others, but it is never really a lot of snow when you compare it to cities on the East Coast. It is not really even the snow that is a problem, but the way that the ice forms, with slush on top of it and then a layer of snow. At night the whole concoction freezes over and you add a new layer of slush and snow. The slippery mess quickly becomes impossible to navigate on all of the steep Seattle hills and you end up with a city where all of the offices have closed early and the streets become deserted.

This morning as Sarah went to the coffee shop there was some ice on the ground and a light snow was falling. She ordered her triple, grande, non-fat mocha with no whip cream and sat down with her paper open to the business section. Matt was sitting in his usual spot with a few others and they were talking a about affirmative action. As usual with these discussions there was no black or white and in this case more of a comparison between evils to determine which was the lesser disease to have eating away at society; affirmative action or the subtle prejudices that made some believe such a program necessary.

As Sarah got up to leave it was obvious this was not a debate that would be settled that day, but as usual all the perspectives were interesting. She headed to the door and as she left Matt’s eyes seemed to lock on her and he gave her cheers with his cup of coffee. Sarah had not expected his gesture and became a bit flustered going out the door, took an unsure step and found herself on her ass on the sidewalk. She got up, tried to muster up some dignity only to take two steps and find herself on her ass all over again.

This time she just sat there for a moment, stunned by the pain, feeling humiliated and feeling the cold of the ice and snow penetrate her coat to further make her bottom sting. She looked back into the coffee shop and noticed Matt had gotten up and was coming her way. She looked at his eyes and shook her head. She could not bear the humiliation of being helped up on top of having fallen down twice. He got her message and went back to his group of friends. Sarah got herself up and brushed herself off and very cautiously took a step. She got her footing, slippery as it was and made her way to the bus stop, then to work.

As the morning hours wore on Sarah looked out the window and saw that the snow had turned to a rain of ice and slush. She decided it would be a good day to take lunch at her desk. She enjoyed walking down to Pike's Place for lunch but trudging through the slush on a day like this was not worth it, not even for a bowl of brandy laced clam chowder. A sandwich and bland cup of soup from the deli in the lobby would have to suffice.

After lunch, as Sarah sat at her desk, she felt like the paperwork she was doing was as distasteful as trudging through the slush. Actually she might prefer the slush at the moment. The day seemed to wear on, it was drudgery. The phone jangled and startled Sarah, the office was being shut down, management wanted people home and off the roads before the slush froze again and the weathermen had predicted a snow storm coming in that night.

Sarah hung up looked out the window again, though she wanted to go home, maybe curl up and read a book; still she felt that she had to finish the paperwork she had been doing before she could leave. When she next looked up an hour had passed and it was already starting to get dark. She got her coat and purse and then went to the elevators. The building felt deserted and as she exited the elevator in the lobby she realized that she might be the last on there other than the one security guard that was letting her out and shaking his head at her or maybe he was shaking his head at the mess of the sidewalk she was about to step onto.

The biting cold wind hit her hard. The wind was whipping up some of the slush snow mix, turning some of it into tiny ice daggers that stung Sarah’s face. She went up a block to the bus stop. This time of day the busses ran every 15 minutes. She waited 30 minutes and nothing. She started to think about walking home, but then she saw a familiar face approaching the bus stop.

“I see you also ignored good sense and worked later than you should have, seems we have that in common tonight.” Matt was slouched back in his winter coat, trying to get some protection from the winds icy fingers. “How long have you been waiting for the bus Sarah?”

“About 30 minutes now. How did you know my name?” Matt smiled at her then looked up and down the street.

“I heard one of the baristas at the coffee shop call you Sarah, so I assumed that was your name.” Matt checked the street once again and sighed. “With the weather this bad the busses might be running only the emergency route, this stop isn’t on it. We will have to go down a few streets to catch one, though there could still be quite a wait since they don’t run as frequently on the emergency schedule. Or we can see if there are any taxi’s over in the Valet at the Bank of America Tower. I live near the coffee shop, I expect you do as well, we could share.”

All Sarah wanted was to be warm again. “I don’t think I like the odds of how long a wait will take with the busses, I say lets go see if there are any taxis.” Matt nodded and they headed off towards The Tower. As they walked the snow started to fall, big wet flakes that started falling faster and faster. In the wind the snow looked almost as though it was falling sideways.

There were a few taxis at The Tower so Sarah and Matt got in the first available. After discussing addresses they decided Sarah would be dropped off first. The cab driver was friendly and chatted about how bad it was getting as he drove the first few blocks. Then they came to the flashing lights and police officers redirecting traffic around an accident. It meant that they had to go down a street with a very steep hill. It changed their route and put Matt’s apartment as the first stop rather than Sarah’s.

As they went down the hill the taxi skidded, swerved and lost control several times; narrowly missing the cars parked on the side of the road. The taxi driver alternately cursed and muttered to God. The driver had told them earlier how he had the best chains on his taxi that money could buy, he was proud because he thought the better chains would mean he could keep working past when other drivers called it quits. It seemed on a night like this it did not matter; all cars were sliding in the icy, slushy snow.

They made it down the hill and turned right. Now it was just a straight shot down the road, a little over two miles and then they would be at Matt’s apartment, but then the taxi had to make it up another hill to reach Sarah’s condo.

The taxi reached finally reached Matt’s building. When the driver stopped he let them know there was no way that he would make it up the hill and let them both off there. I know this is forward and normally I would never suggest such a thing, but there is no way you are going to make it up that hill tonight, Sarah, would you come home with me tonight.”

Sarah inhaled sharply, which Matt interpreted as shock “No, no no! I promise I am only offering because of the snow. I have a spare bedroom, you can sleep there. It is just that I see you every day and I know how dangerous it would be for you to try to make it up that hill walking tonight. I feel like I am connected to you and I just want to offer you shelter on a very bad night”

Matt was rushing his words. Sarah knew her reaction was making him defend his intentions, but really she was just excited and surprised that he would let her into is home, his sanctuary, his world. “I didn’t think you were up to something, I am just surprised that you would offer me a place to stay, even under the circumstances.”

“Well or course; so now that it is settled let us get out of this horrid torment the weather gods have let loose on our city and get warm.” Matt smiled at Sarah and offered her a chivalrous arm as they went into the building.

They went into the building; it was one of the smaller, older, more flavorful buildings of the city, with hand panted tile murals around the shops that occupied the ground level. They went to an elevator, where Matt pushed the button for the top floor, which was only the seventh, but still it was the top floor. They exited the elevator and Sarah realized Matt’s was the only apartment on that level.

Matt opened the door and Sarah found herself in a room that was tasteful and well appointed. The Dinning room had a full size table with six chairs, a side board, a china cabinet and small beverage service that displace one of a kind hand crafted wine glasses, and the furniture did not all quite match, but was all in hues of Cherry Wood, complimentary to one another.

In the living room, Sarah found overstuffed chairs in a deep olive color, they were not velvet, but they had some of the same qualities, but in a coarser weave. They were accented with pillows in a shade of plum; combined the couches felt like the natural beauty you would find in a vineyard. The coffee tables were wood and glass, again a cherry hue. The walls were decorated with artwork that seemed to come from all over the world, prayer rugs from India, African Masks, Egyptian Papyrus and what appeared to be a Monet.

“Your home is beautiful.” Sarah didn’t know what else to say. Here she had been working for a life that would give her the ‘things’ that would make her happy, but that perfectly matched, perfectly planned out space had never felt like a home; this did.

“Thank you.” Matt watched her face, watched her take it in and knew, at least for tonight she belonged here. “The guest room is through there, go ahead and make yourself as comfortable as you can. There are toothbrushes and other things in the bathroom. I kind of have an open door policy with my friends so I am always stocked on the things they might have forgotten.” He smiled as her as she went through the double doors to the guest room to explore and use the bathroom.

When she came back out with her shoes and coat off and hair combed, he was making something in the kitchen. The smell was oregano and garlic. “What smells so good?”

Matt smiled; “I thought you might be hungry, just throwing together a pizza.” She walked over to one of the stools at the breakfast bar to sere what he was up to. He was indeed making pizza with what looked like sun dried tomatoes, spinach, artichoke hearts, mushrooms and then he added some garlic and lots of cheese, followed by a mix of spices that had to include copious amounts of oregano.

“Dear god that looks good.” Sarah has frequented Romeo’s Pizza and what Matt was making seemed like something right off the menu. He put it in the oven and then looked at her.

“I didn’t have anything fancy for tonight, but figured it would do. I will be tossing together a salad too.” He smiled and it turned Sarah inside out.

“To me that looks pretty fancy to me, I think I might have some Yoplait and Orange juice in my fridge.” As she spoke Matt opened a bottle of wine, a nice Robert Mondovi Cabernet Sauvignon. He poured two glasses, sipped one while he handed her the other. She was a sweet white wine drinker, but she took a sip and found it pleasant, warming.

“Today is usually when I do my shopping. Guess I never thought that my simple was less than simple to anyone else. Regardless, I do hope you like it.” Matt gave her a cheers like he did that morning, but this time he touched her glass with his.

Crystal, Sarah was saying to herself, his wine glasses are crystal; it was that pure high tone of the glasses clinking together that was unmistakable. He left her to her wine while he put the pizza in the oven and started on the salad.

Sarah mused to herself, about her own life, about Matt, about the snow, about whether anyone at work would notice that she did not miss today’s paperwork deadline despite the weather. As she thought to herself, strains of music kept invading, and then she realized that Vivaldi was wafting through speaker through out the room.

“Nice music, The Gloria Cantata.” She stated still in her own mind and own reflections. “Hmm, yes it is Vivialdi, I love to play this on stormy nights, it is rich, complex, and full of dichotomies.” He had set the table and was just pulling the pizza out of the oven. He motioned her to the table while he cut the pizza

She looked over and realized that while she was deep in thought he had set out dishes and silverware for two, at one end of the table, the one nearest the windows and the view of The Puget Sound, facing each other. She went and sat down. He brought the pizza over and sat himself down across from her. He reached over for the salad, but did not serve himself, first he served Sarah. An herb garden mix, with feta cheese, raspberry hazelnut vinaigrette, and pine nuts, she took a bite. It was so much more than expected. He dished a portion up for himself.

As they ate they talked. Sarah opened up. She talked about the things she had done in high school and college, the talents she had, the theater she loved. Things no one in her corporate word seemed to care about. Things Matt wanted every detail of, especially the talents, the passions, the quirks she had given up for the perfect corporate life. A corporate life she was becoming disillusioned with as she saw the glass ceiling.

He talked of his travels around the world, the philosophers and Prophets he had met. His family and view of that glass ceiling. By the time that Matt cleared the table they were into a second bottle of wine and three hours had passed. There was nothing more natural to both of them than to move the wine and conversation to the living room. Then Sarah noticed the telescope. “Now what can you watch from here, with that.”

Matt moved over to it and Sarah followed. “Well mostly I look out at the stars over The Puget Sound, or I look at the ships and boats on the water, but now and then I spy on the people in the buildings around me.” As Matt spoke he showed her some of the stars, obstructed as they were by the continuing snow storm. He then moved on to one of the ferries slowly making it’s way on the troubled waters, then to the nest building where there was a couple kissing. “They do that each night; they kiss for almost an hour, and then make the most passionate love, always with the window open. They have ‘it’. They see each other, they see into each other.”

He said the words, he looked at her and Sarah felt that he saw into her. He, more than the friends she had superciliously connected with through the years, knew who she was. She waned more of that connection, more of the fire. She reached her hand out and placed it against his cheek. She pulled him toward her, closed her eyes and kissed him.

Matt responded. He put his arms around her and pulled her into the kiss she started. Matt guided her to the couch and they melted into it. Their tongues did a dance, neither trying to win dominance but each meeting the other, where one wanted more, the other gave more.

As they kissed Matt could not resist, he undid each of the buttons on her blouse. He then could touch her skin. She had been wearing silk but the feeling of her skin was softer, more erotic, more anything that he had ever felt. It was connection.

Sarah had put her hands under his sweater and moved it up. She broke the kiss to move it over his head. Then they were bare skin to bare skin. Intoxicating, for her it was the smell of him, cloves and almond. She touched him; she inhaled him, kissed him. Then she moved her hands to his belt, fumbling, kissing, trying again, halting, but then she had it undone. Her intention was clear.

Matt stood up, held his hand out, beckoning her to take it. She did. He lead her to a room that was not a guest room, it was his room. He laid her on the bed, a bed that smelt of cloves and almonds. Matt reached behind Sarah, his hand behind the small of her back, pulling her center towards his. He undid the clasp and zipper of her skirt, slid it down her hips, down her legs, kissing the path that the fabric had touched on its way down; Turning a practical function that took seconds into a sensual function that took minutes.

He then returned to the top and then removed her stockings, kissing his way down, while somehow along the way kicking off his own pants. Then he had moved back on top of Sarah, supporting much of his own weight, but still on top. Then he rolled, pulling her on top, giving her the power to choose.

On top of Matt, in control, Sarah lightly bit his ears, his neck, his nipples, then returned to his lips to kiss and lick and bite them. Then she slid her panties off, slid his boxer briefs down and poised herself to slide down him.

“Sarah, dear god, I want you to, but you don’t have to do this.” Matt wanted Sarah needed Sarah, but she was worth more to him than to seduce her and he was afraid he done that.

“I want you, I want this.” That was her reply as she slid down his cock. Wet, tight and needing him. Sarah rode him shuddering, shaking, orgasming. Matt took all he could, but he needed deeper, he needed to be over her, looking down into her eyes as he moved within her. He wanted, at least for a moment to posses Sarah.

As he maneuvered her under him he removed his boxer briefs. Then he slowly slid in her and kissed Sarah. He kissed her deeply, as deeply as he was moving in her. She moaned, started to tighten, he resisted, kept sliding into her. He moved down, kissed her and then thrust more deeply.

She clung to him, pulled Matt in, tightened more.

Sarah screamed. She writhed. She orgasmed completely. As she did Matt could not hold any longer, he trust as deeply as he could and then hid penis was convulsing, shooting, spraying the walls within Sarah with himself, pieces of him of his DNA. It did not matter to either; they just wanted to be complete with each other.

As Sarah’s orgasm subsided, she started to cry. Not just a tear here or there, but big wet tears riding down her cheeks, sobs choking her. She wasn’t sad, she was fulfilled, but still she was crying.

Matt had collapsed by Sarah, his cheek touching hers. He felt the tears falling down her cheeks and felt his own that matched hers. Matt moved up on his elbows. He looked at Sarah. “It’s okay, it’s right. It is more than a physical release, it is an emotional release.”

Sarah could only nod. Matt moved behind Sarah and held her. Each found sleep and warmth with each other.

In the early morning hours Matt’s alarm went off waking both of them up. Sarah got up an out of bed. She stood naked in front of the window looing at the city. It was a city blanketed with snow, but it looked, fresh, it looked new, the white had banished the grey and it seemed like a different city.

Sarah and Matt called into their offices only to find both closed. Then went back to bed, they shared more of those details that most of us never share with anyone. They made love they slept. They did this over the weekend until Sunday afternoon the snow melted and Sarah could make it up the hill.

Monday morning at the coffee shop, Sarah had steeled herself, expected only a cursory glance. Instead once she ordered her Latte, Matt pulled back a chair for her. “Everyone this is Sarah and I pray to all the gods I believe in that she will join us every morning for coffee and every night with me to, well….” Matt blushed at his own thoughts, but Sarah sat down as she shook all the hands offered her.

Matt leaned over “I mean that, I want you with me every morning and ever night. You are incredible, talented and if you can make your own rules, there is no glass ceiling.’ With that he kissed her on the cheek and put his arm around her.

Sarah stayed late at the Coffee shop and didn’t show up to the office until the appointed 8:00 am start time.

Copyright 2009