The Commuter

by Beth Alexander Walsh

     The anticipation grows as I make my way through North Station. She is a constant vision in my head as I stand in the queue at Dunkin Donuts to order coffee for the commute home. She is a creature of habit; always in the same window seat, with her blue water bottle peeking from the top of her purse. I now picture her there, with light pouring through the window, changing her brown curls to the color of soft caramel.

     I give my order and pay for the coffee and slide to the next line. It is here in North Station that I plan our “date nights”. This time, I envision us in the North End, gazing at each other over plates of homemade linguini and glasses of Chianti. After dinner we hold hands as we walk down Hanover Street in search of the perfect cannoli, and I tease her about her taste in YouTube videos, and biting her lip while she plays Candy Crush.

     Smoothing down my tie and adjusting the messenger bag on my shoulder, I grab my coffee and head to the track where our train sits. I immediately search her out as I board the car. She is there, in her usual seat wearing my favorite blue and white scarf and sitting with a woman I do not recognize. Their discussion is animated as I head down the aisle. She glances up at me and I continue past her seat, sitting diagonally behind to avoid interrupting their conversation.

     As the train rolls on I learn they are former high school friends, and I hear each asking “ Have you seen?” or “Did you know?” and gasping or giggling depending on the answer. Leaning forward, I look over at her flushed face and wide smile and my heart stops. She is everything to me.

     The conductor anounces the next stop; her stop, and I wonder if she and the friend will disembark together. As the train slows, they hug and she rises from her seat.

     “It was so wonderful running into you Karen, we should go out one night soon.” the friend suggests.

     “I would love that!” she replies, while turning slightly as she stands in the aisle. Our eyes meet and I nod my head. She makes her way up the aisle and out to the platform and I glance out the window, as the train lunges forward to it's next destination. She turns, and looks towards my window. I watch until I can no longer make out her figure, and smile.

     At last I know her name.