Gray Infinity

By Ed Wingham

Gray Infinity is a story of love gained and lost amidst tragedies that all too often mark our own existence. Cooper Mankins and Clare Eskins rush headlong into the dreams of their lives but find those dreams tempered by the realities of a lifetime. Their choices and thus the lives they carve for themselves, paints our own picture of how
we cope with the unexpected and unwanted challenges that push us in directions never anticipated. Life is often neither white or black, but a gray composite that lasts forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ed Wingham
• Release date: Aug 5, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466039179

Ed Wingham

Retired and allocating most of my time to part-time teaching and writing. I enjoy being active (jogging and biking), church, eating breakfast out and family and friends. I live in Tipp City, Ohio, and enjoy small towns... I'm a Cleveland Browns fan and like college football as well. As of this date, I have published one story, "The Trumains", to the Kindle, but more on the way. Thanks much.

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Gray Infinity

By Ed Wingham

Copyright © 2011 by Edwin W. Wingham. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

First Printing, 2011

http://www.edwingham.com

My sincere thanks to all who have critiqued this work and provided inspiration to continue.

Introduction

Gray Infinity is a reflection on the many lives that have loved and lost. This story marks the purity of a mutual love that knew no boundaries to the tragedies that intersect happiness and alter our very being. Young and aspiring fortunes turned to face the cold bitter wind of failure that chilled them to the brink of despair. Against the gray backdrop of a world satiated on eating its own, there remains hope in a brighter tomorrow to lift the cycle of infinite darkness.

Chapter 1

Clara Eskins was all of twenty three when we met. She had preceded me at Brammerstein and Charles by a year, and she had effectively forged her way and carved out an identity in that short interim. I had spent the few months of my employment gathering the volumes of work related information on my daily accounts and had barely kept my head above water. Why they would have hired me after a less than robust interview? That thought permeated my brain and left me a bit bewildered and created a self-imposed pressure to constantly validate my existence. Clara had known Mr. Charles’ daughter at Smith, and well, it’s always better to know someone than to know something, as my colleagues often said.

I had been there but a few months, when, like all the other testosterone driven males, I had been attracted to her obvious assets and fantasized about declaring some exclusive rights to her domain. Though I wasn’t a complete novice to the social scene, I had exhausted the majority of my time buried in texts and writing and rewriting papers to secure my MBA. And now with this job, and the seeming competition between new account managers to outdo the others, dating seemed but a remote possibility. But sometimes hopes become dreams and dreams become the fabric of life.

I wandered into the coffee shop and scattered much of my overnight work on a table as she entered. She had fumbled through her purse looking for a dollar as I studied her dilemma. As she was about to concede and forego her caffeine when, being ever-bright and daring, I made my move.

Excuse me. Can I loan you a dollar? I mean, you can have a dollar. I have plenty, well, not bunches, but I mean, you can have…

Oh, thanks much. I will repay you. A dollar is still a buck right?

I grabbed my money clip, and half my credit cards fled the scene as I pulled out the dollar. I was clumsy if nothing else.

Thanks. My name is Clara, Clara Eskins. I’m over in room 212. Drop over or perhaps I’ll see you here again. Thanks.

Sure, yes, of course.

As I found my credit cards and plugged them back into their rightful place, I remained transfixed as she strolled down the hall and around the corner. Room 212, hmm?

The next few weeks passed and I discovered critical account information that could only be retrieved by passing by Clare’s office. Though we had exchanged a few pleasantries, I felt as if I was but a number in the long queue of males waiting to say good morning. There seemed to be a constant stream of guys who simply couldn’t resolve their issues without her sage advice. Thank goodness for the unreliable coffee machine and the cold November weather, when she asked, Sorry, you may have mentioned your name, but there are so many new faces. But anyway, I know we both need our coffee jolt, so, I am buying a maker and you can, if you want, go in with me, and we can make our own java every day. I’m going to do it, and I’ll have it here tomorrow. Are you interested?

Oh, sure, sorry. Yes, my name is Cooper, Cooper Mankins. Yeah, there are a lot of new folks.

Gee, a person with two last names. I should be able to remember that.

Hallway conversation was not my forte as I stumbled with a few comments about the weather, as if it were breaking news, and promised to share the cost of the coffee maker the next day. She smiled and waved as I turned and tripped over the plant that I swear wasn’t there a few minutes prior. Oh well, so much for being suave.

Friday morning was a welcome sight, and I had just dropped my brief case and bag on my desk when she knocked.

Hi Cooper. Got the new maker, and it’s cranking away. Should be a nice one. Oh, here is the bill. You can pay me when you get it. Little more money than I thought. Thanks.

I shuffled the bill over and spied the seventy-five dollar part but missed the one hundred in front of it. Damn, I thought. Is it gilded somehow? Well, maybe it’s a small price to pay to sup coffee with Clara every morning. Made my way to the ATM and was about to knock when Jasper Blevins, her supervisor and, no doubt one who thought she needed individual attention that only he could provide, exited her office.

Sorry, Clara. Didn’t mean to interrupt.

No, it’s okay. Jasper was just here; I don’t really know why, but anyway.

Here’s the money. Boy that really does smell good. Hey, I owe you for coffee too. Here, let me…

The first batch is on me. This should last awhile.

The winter months set in, and the work week took its toll leaving me yearning for the weekend that always seemed light years away. Clara and I had grown into a perfunctory and professional understanding and one that seemed likely to continue in that vein, when to my surprise: Cooper, this is Clara. Hey, had to take my coupe into the Mercedes guy this morning. Totally forgot till just now, and hope this isn’t imposing, but could I beg a ride home from you? I can be ready whenever it’s convenient for you.

Sure. Absolutely. Shouldn’t be long, maybe fifteen minutes or so.

She lived a little closer to work than I, and I could tell from the address, a lot better too. She was, to her credit, a good conversationalist, and she made the trip a lot less awkward than I feared. We mushed through the snow and avoided the omnipresent cabs as I pulled up to the curb.

Thanks so much, Cooper. Hey, listen, it’s Friday of a long week. I don’t mean to be so forward here, but why don’t you come up and I will figure out something to repay you. We never get to chat about much other than the usual. Is that okay?

After my heart left my throat and went back to its rightful home, I felt the blood rush to my brain urging me say something, anything.

Well, I guess. Gee, that is very nice of you. Are you sure?

Yeah, come on. You can park over there. May take you a few minutes, so just buzz me at the door. I’m the only Clara Eskins in the building.

I pulled into the only available space and searched my console for any semblance of gum or a breath mint. Found something I had chewed yesterday and figured why not, why not indeed?

She opened the door, and I thought I had entered the presidential suite. Her living room was bigger than my entire apartment, and she had furniture too. Imagine that, furniture.

I’ll take your coat, Cooper. If you need the facilities, they are on the left. I’ll get something started, and you can help if you like.

My God. I should have checked the obituaries this morning, as I have surely died and reached the afterlife.

What can I do, Clara? You have such a beautiful place.

Oh, thanks. Dad pitched in, as he always does. Says that nothing is too good for his daughter. I am pretty spoiled to have such a doting father. Here, we can have a glass of wine, and I’ll pop this into the oven. We can sit in here; it’s a bit cozier, and I just love the fireplace in the winter.

"I feel badly Cooper; we share