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Austin Macauley Publishers - Barry Kwasman

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48 pages

English

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Extrait

Description

After a medical career that spanned four decades, Barry finally has the time to pursue a writing career that has always fascinated him. These short stories are his first professional attempt at writing. Sit back and enjoy the tales that he has created.

Sujets

Love

Love (disambiguation)

Short story

Informations

Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers
Date de parution	28 février 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781645369530
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0000€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Life, Love, and Happenstance
Barry Kwasman
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-02-28
Life, Love, and Happenstance About The Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgements Synopsis The Second Chance The Second Chance Synopsis The Bank Heist The Bank Heist Synopsis Julio’s New Life Julio’s New Life Synopsis Anton and Tatiana’s Retirement Anton and Tatiana’s Retirement Synopsis Malcolm the Hero Malcolm the Hero Synopsis The Will The Will Synopsis The Reunion The Reunion Synopsis Logan and Dana, a New Beginning Logan and Dana Synopsis Barcelona Barcelona
About The Author
Barry Kwasman is a retired Podiatric physician and surgeon who practiced in South Florida for more than 40 years. He currently lives in Palm Beach County, Florida, with his wife of 42 years. He has two grown children and two young grandchildren.
Dedication
To my wife who encouraged me to write this collection of short stories.
Copyright Information ©
Barry Kwasman (2019)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
Kwasman, Barry
Life, Love, and Happenstance: A Collection of Short Stories
ISBN 9781641827799 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781641827805 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781645369530 (E-Book)
The main category of the book — Fiction / Short Stories
www.austinmacauley.com/us
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers LLC
40 Wall Street, 28th Floor
New York, NY 10005
USA
mail-usa@austinmacauley.com
+1 (646) 5125767
Acknowledgements
To the young blonde with the straw hat who sat next to me on my flight from Las Vegas to Ft. Lauderdale. She inspired me to write my first short story.
Synopsis

The Second Chance
Confirmed bachelor Jonathon thought that he had it all, until he met Sara. She made his life complete, until he lost her. Without Sara, there would’ve been no need to go on, until his daughter, Melody, made him realize that life is for the living. It was what Sara would have wanted.
The Second Chance
Every so often, an event may occur in our life that we consider to be life changing. My life changing event occurred this morning when I became a grandfather for the first time. My daughter Melody presented the family with a beautiful six pound and eight ounce little girl. My granddaughter looks exactly like her mom did, when she was born twenty-two years ago. Melody, her husband Rob, and I feel truly blessed to welcome this little bundle of joy into the world. If only my wife Sara could have been here to celebrate this wonderful event. She was the love of my life. Sara died six months ago.
Sixty-eight years ago, when I was born, the world was very different. I was an only child, and I lived in a loving home. My parents worked long hours and sometimes they worked seven days a week. They were considered middle class. I didn’t know the difference between rich and poor. As far as I was concerned, I had everything that I could ever want. I seldom, if ever, asked for anything. I was content to play baseball with my friends. I even dreamed of playing for the New York Yankees someday. My parents were not strict. The only stipulation that my parents made upon me was that I do well in school and prepare for a profession. I don’t recall ever being absent from school, and I earned good grades. To save money, I went to a local Junior College for two years and then transferred to a local four year college. I applied to law school near my home in South Florida and I was accepted. My grades were very good and I graduated with honors. Luckily, I was hired by a local law firm right out of law school. I learned the legal profession from the ground up. Although, I was not making a lot of money at first, I was thrilled to be working as an attorney, and vowed to work myself up the proverbial corporate ladder.
In time, I became financially secure. I had money for anything and everything that I could ever want. I purchased a condominium on the Intracoastal Waterway of Ft. Lauderdale, and I even purchased a fancy sports car. I wore expensive and tailored suits for work. I always attempted to dress and act professionally. I often felt that some of my coworkers envied my lifestyle. I went on lots of vacations, and I went out with beautiful women. I had no commitments. Why would I ever want to give any of that up to settle down? I was content and I did not worry about the future. I was independent and I liked it that way. I never felt encumbered by having to worry about a child with the Sniffles, or a ‘nagging wife’ as I’d heard so many of my colleagues complain about. I figured that I had it all. I had planned my life, and as far as I was concerned, it was great.
One evening, all that changed. I was seated in an aisle seat on a flight back from Las Vegas. The flight had already been delayed three hours. We were told that the delay was caused by storms in the Midwest, which caused a delay in the arrival of our own outbound flight. A young woman approached. She was wearing a straw hat, and she was carrying two straw bags. She appeared ruffled. She had the middle seat next to mine. I offered to help her place her bags in the overhead bins, but she said that she would place them on the floor beneath the seat in front of her. She asked me if I intended to sleep during the flight. I told her that I usually read, but I was curious, and asked her why she would want to know that. She said that she had to pee a lot, and if I were asleep, there would be no problem, because she was very agile and she would be able to climb over me. She said that she would not disturb me when she had to go to the bathroom. At the time, I remember thinking that she was a bit quirky. She proceeded to remove her straw hat, and I noticed that she had strawberry blond hair and blue eyes. She was quite attractive and probably in her 30s. She was wearing jeans that were torn at the knees, but I had seen that before and I figured that it was just a style. She was also wearing a pullover sweater. No sooner did I attempt to resume my reading that she leaned over and began rummaging through one of her straw bags beneath her. She pulled out a wrinkled blanket and a package of chewing gum. She offered me a stick. I thanked her but declined her offer. She then curled herself up on the seat and placed the blanket over her head. We took off and soon experienced some turbulence. I could tell that the turbulence disturbed her. She removed the blanket and then began talking incessantly about anything and everything. She said that her name was Sara. I told her that I was Jonathon. She spoke well. That’s when I realized that I would get no reading done that night. I was very cordial, but I still thought that she was quirky.
Four and a half hours later we arrived at Ft. Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport. The flight was a redeye, and it landed after 3 am. I rushed down to baggage claim, only to wait as the airline took its time unloading luggage. Twenty minutes later, with suitcase in hand, I rushed out to get a cab for my ride home. I could see Sara sitting on a bench in front of the terminal.
“Do you need a lift?” I asked.
“No, thank you.”
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“No, Jonathon.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Are you going to sit out here all night?”
“I’m waiting until morning when I have a job interview.”
I couldn’t let her sit by herself at the airport all night. For some reason, I felt responsible for her. I told her that I had a live-in housekeeper in my three bedroom condominium. She was welcome to stay in a spare bedroom. Although, hesitant at first, I figured she thought the offer was better than sitting at the airport until mid-morning. We got into the cab and I took her home. Once home, I showed her the refrigerator and the spare bedroom. I told her to make herself comfortable and to help herself to whatever she’d like. Evelyn, my housekeeper, made her bed, and even gave her a pair of my pajamas and a bathrobe. They were twice her size, but they would suffice.
It was 10 am and I could smell the coffee. I put on my bathrobe, and there was Sara. She was showered, dressed, and making breakfast. She looked beautiful. While Evelyn was making the beds, Sara was in the kitchen.
“How do you like your eggs?” she asked.
I could not believe my eyes.
“What about your interview?” I inquired.
“I’m so grateful for your kindness that the least I could do is to make you breakfast.”
“I can go on my interview tomorrow.”
“I’ll explain later,” she said. It was then I realized that Sara was not so quirky after all. Her hair was washed, long, and straight. She wore very little makeup except mascara and eyeliner. She seemed very comfortable in my home. I remember my thoughts at the time. Did I just invite a total stranger into my home knowing nothing about her? Yes, I did, but I felt a connection to her. I told her to give me a few minutes so I could get washed, shaved, and dressed. Then we would have breakfast and talk.
Sara thought of herself as a thirty-two-year-old artist. She was a musician. She played the piano and had regular gigs at various Las Vegas Supper Clubs and hotels. She had open invitations to work in a Hotel Lounge in Ft. Lauderdale and at a South Beach Hotel lounge on Miami Beach. She was known in the