FOUR

 

 

The bell on the front door of Toys, Trains, and Gifts jangled lightly and Mason looked up from the main counter. The woman entering was dressed in a new ski parka, with matching ski pants and hat. She had long blonde hair drifting out of the back of the ski cap and the most striking blue eyes he had ever seen. Her skin looked soft, and she had the cutest perky nose. Instantly, he felt as if he knew her. But since quitting his corporate job and opening the toy store, he had felt that about a lot of people.

But this woman was someone really special. He could tell. And it was everything he could to not go rushing over to her and make a fool out of himself.

She saw him, glanced at him twice, as if recognizing him as well, then stopped beside a rack of Hot Wheels, actually studying them as if she knew what she was looking for.

After a moment, she turned and moved over to the working HO Scale train set running in a large layout under the main window and back into the corner of the shop. It was the same layout he had designed as a kid in his parents’ basement. It took up a lot of floor space in his store, but for some reason, he had known from the beginning that it was worth it.

Now he never shut the train off, letting the cars run their course automatically with a new, state-of-the-art computer control panel. It was as if shutting it off might make him shut down his store. He had even rigged up battery backup systems to keep it going during power failures.

It turned out to be a real attraction. Late at night, when the nearby movie theater would let out, he would see people standing and just staring in his window, watching the train go through its eighteen-minute course. Sometimes they would be staring so intently, it was as if they weren’t in their bodies anymore.

Customers did that at times during the day as well. Mason had learned to just let them stare. It didn’t hurt business.

Mason watched as the beautiful woman studied the moving train for the longest time, just like he did every so often. The moment he had moved that layout from his basement to his new store and got it working again, it had seemed oddly familiar, not because he built it, but because of something else he couldn’t quite remember.

Finally, she shook her head and turned away from the train as it went in behind a mountain. She came slowly toward the counter, winding her way in and around the miniature supplies and model kits, looking at everything as she came.

He never took his gaze off her.

To break the ice, when she got close enough, he stuck out his hand. “I’m Mason. I own this place.”

He noticed again how really proud he was of those words. He was proud of his store. It wasn’t the biggest by a long ways. But it was something he was very proud of. And it was all his.

The woman smiled a huge, beautiful smile and took his hand. “I’m Paula. I’m a musician, here on regional tour with my group.” While still holding his hand, she waved her other arm around at the store. “You have a wonderful place here. It feels like I have been in here before, like I could stay forever.”

“I’m glad you like it.” For some reason he was even more pleased than usual. Her compliment felt very important to him for some reason.

She paused, seeming to not want to let go of Mason’s hand. Mason hoped at that moment that she never would.

“Have we met before?” she asked hesitantly, looking him directly in the eyes.”

“It seems to me we have,” Mason said and her look of worry lightened.

He smiled at her and went on, “But it might take lunch for us to figure out from where.”

Her smile and light laugh were so wonderful, Mason knew he would never forget them, and wanted to see and hear them a lot more.

She gave his hand one last soft squeeze and let go. “I’d love that.”

Mason turned to Hank, his six-foot five-inch tall employee and close friend, who obviously must have overheard their conversation. He grinned at Mason. “I’ll guard the store, boss. You two take your time.”

“Thanks,” Mason said to Hank and winked.

Then he turned and opened the front door for Paula. “There’s this great lunch place just up the street called The Dining Car. Sound good to you?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Paula said. She took his hand and pulled him through the door into the cold winter air.

The scale model train in his store window ran along a rough mountain slope, turned and disappeared into a tunnel.

Outside, in the distance, there was the faint sound of a train whistle, but neither of them noticed.