Imogene’s Choice

Imogene had a decision to make, and it was a difficult one. 

She pondered in her heart, which one to pick.  Imogene hated decisions, especially this one.  She loved them both, how could she decide? They were as different as night and day.  She unconsciously frowns, thinking how impossible this will be to do.  She paces back and forth, fretting and muttering things under her breath. 

“On the one hand, sexy and smoldering.  On the other hand, overpowering and hard hitting.”

She sits down on the edge of the bed, pulling on her stockings and slipping into her black high heels.  Imogene begins to put on the finishing touches, along with a smidge of red lipstick and great grandma’s emerald earrings,  she pulls out a stylish Cloche, covering up a massive brunette mane which looked out of place in this day and age.  There, now she was ready.

Imogene grabs her handbag, filling it with a white lacy hankie, a wad of cash, including change for cab fare, and a few peppermints before closing it tightly.  One last look in the mirror. 

“Not half bad if I do say so myself.” 

She slips into her coat, and closes the door behind her.  She takes out her key and methodically locks it before walking down the stairs to the street below.

Giggling and skipping down the sidewalk, she looks more like a school girl than a grown woman in her thirties.  A few passersby look at her quizzically, but she is a woman on a mission, and barely notices even the most blatant of stares.

Back to her decision.  Her mind won’t settle on anything else.  She makes a list in her mind.

#1  “So Impulsive, and would keep her interested.

    Attractive in a quirky sense.

    Has true showmanship.”

#2  “So Dependable, and would never let her down.

    Classically Handsome and elegant

    Would get the attention of everyone in sight, hands down.”

Imogene is almost in tears as she contemplates what is ahead of her.

Maybe she should ask someone for guidance? A trusted friend?  Her crewleader?  She quickly dismisses these ideas.  No one else would have to live with the decision the way she would.  No one else could possibly understand.  She has to face facts, and make her own choice.

She walks toward her destination with great purpose and resignation.  In a few moments it will be behind her, and she can continue on with life.

With trepidation she opens the door to the establishment where they will both be waiting.  Her heart pounds wildly, she can barely hear herself think.  She quickly shuffles over to the first smiling face that she sees.  Looking up with eager expectation, she begins speaking so fast that her voice barely keeps up with her thoughts.

The young store clerk looks down at the pretty lady, wondering what brings her there.  As she tells him her dilemma, he smiles at her.  

 “Madam, I assure you that young ladies such as yourself come to me with these questions all the time.  Let me bring them out to you and then you can decide.  Spend a little time with each of them and make an informed decision.”

She reluctantly handles each of them lovingly, knowing this will only make it more difficult, but after a while with each, she feels confident leaving with the one of her choice. It becomes apparent in a hurry which one will be her lifelong companion.  The one she will care for, and will care for her

Imogene steps off the curb, hailing a cab.  She feels safe and secure, and yet carefree and sexy at the same time.  She unconsciously reaches for the thing that makes her feel that way.  She slides her hand along her leg, feeling her brand new Beretta 1934.

Vladimir peers across the street, to see Imogene, giddy with excitement. He hadn't seen her that way in years... since they were kids infact. 

Vladimir removes his hat and smiles... unsure of the cause of her happiness. After the smile fades, he frowns. Had she found someone? Who was this new guy?
Vladimir was not the jealous type usually, but he had a soft spot for this one. He wasn't shy either... but again, this one was different. He hadn't told her how he felt even when given many opportunities. 

Any time she got the least bit flirty he'd fall on his face. He called her "Love" or "Dear" countless times as he had many dames, but he never had the same meaning behind it with others as he did with her. And perhaps she knew that, but likely she thought herself just like the rest of the women Vlad had had over the years. 
Not that it was worth fantasizing about. He was a priest after all. Dumbest thing he'd done. Give his life to the Lord. He wasn't even good at it. Drunk at Mass, back alley deals, smuggling, taking money to get laundered... the murders...

But Imogene softened his heart when she was around... and out of all the things he did while being a priest, he couldn't work up the courage to approach her romantically. The pain of it all hurt his bones.

Vladimir bowed his head, and prayed perhaps the shorted prayer he had ever prayed....

"I hate you"

With everything he did in his life... this was the one thing he blamed on God. His longing. When in actuality, deep down he knew, God had nothing to do with his inabilities towards Imogene. 

Vladimir placed his hand in his coat, grabbed his flask and took a swig. After placing back in his coat, he began to walk... with that limp he's had for so long now that he doesn't even realize it's there. Cane in one hand, hat in the other... Vladimir walks away, nearly in tears.

Imogene catches a glimpse of a man out of the corner of her eye and she can’t shake the feeling that she somehow knows him.   She is a little taken aback at the way he looked at her, and unconsciously feels for her newly purchased gun.  Nothing can spoil this moment for Imogene though, she is almost high with the power and freedom that her new Beretta brings her.

Her thoughts go back to the Churchyard next to her house as a child, and she smiles widely at him.  Her old childhood friend and cohort, VladimirPopov.  It must have been at least two years since the last time she had seen him, and he had changed.  He looked so different to Imogene.  She takes her hand off the gun, and murmurs a small hello.  She had always been in awe of Vlad as a child.  He took her on many adventures, always leading the way to trouble.  Imogene was always the voice of reason, and missed out on a lot because of it.  As she looks at him, she thinks he looks weary.

“Hello Vladimir!  It’s been such a long time.  I was just thinking about all of our childhood adventures.”

As he stutters out some incoherent words, Imogene realizes he is drunk.  A priest, drunk in the middle of the day!  Leave it to Vlad.  Then Imogene remembers something else.  The new people she was working with just brought in a priest, and his name was Vlad.

‘I wonder?’  She thinks to herself. 

But just as quickly as she noticed him, he slipped off before she could finish the thought out loud.  She stands on the street corner watching him slip off in the darkness, then she skips back to the family headquarters to show everyone her new gun.