The Girl, Episode I

He looked down the aisle to see the young woman picking a Heinlein novel from the bookshelf. She wore a cardigan and jeans with high boots and carried a large burgundy purse. Her glasses, helping the floppy, grey wool hat hold back blonde curls, were of almost the same shade of wine as the bag. Her blue eyes scanned the back of the novel. He couldn’t help saying something.

“A girl like you is seriously contemplating a Heinlein novel?”

She looked up at him and smiled a huge, big-toothed grin. “What’s wrong with Heinlein?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with him; I was commenting more on how a beautiful girl is reading hard science fiction.”

She blushed, but that enormous, goofy smile remained. “Well, a friend mentioned him. Something about being a pillar of modern science fiction.”

“Well, your friend would be right. Clarke, Asimov, and Heinlein were the big three. But this one,” he said, shifting his own small stack of books to one hand and pointing, “is like ninety-four percent politics.”

“Really? I’d heard giant bugs and battle armor.”

“And you came to buy it? You’re the strangest girl I’ve ever met.” He pushed his own glasses higher on his nose and brushed his dark hair back from his forehead. “I mean that as a compliment. I mean, you’re just not the type I’d profile for a sci-fi novel about the military’s role in conflict between ideology of communism and capitalism.”

“Well, I try to stay recent,” she laughed. “The Cold War seems like a good place to start.”

He grinned and held out his hand. “I’m TS.”

“Well, TS,” she said, pausing to shake his hand, “I’m TA.”

“You know, you look kind of like...”

“Yeah, I know,” she cut him off, blushing again.

“Is that because you are...?”

“Yeah,” her blushing continued, and her eyes twinkled.

“Well, you’ve got good friends if they’re suggesting Heinlein.”

“Thank you!” she kept beaming. Her phone started to ring, and she dug for it. “Gah, I need to take this, and probably need to be on my way. It was great to meet you, though!”

“And you, too. Have fun with the book.”

“I’ll try! Thanks for the compliments!” she said, and turned away, answering her phone. “Yeah. No, the bookstore still. Yeah, a guy I just met said the one I picked out is really good.”

He continued browsing, more excitedly than before. He moved into the philosophy section to ensure that she was out of the store by the time he approached the counter. Purchasing his books, the cashier asked him if he knew who had just come through. He nodded, but kept mostly silent as he walked out of the store into the brisk fall weather. He had just encountered a delightful pretty girl, and that made for a good day.