“We can't change yesterday, but we can change tomorrow...” Ken Poirot
The massive discount store was a mess, but, then, what was new about that? And with Christmas being a mere week away it was an even bigger mess than usual. Jolly holiday music played overhead and everywhere were signs of the season, including the “Santa Special” sale tags and endless displays of tackiness that come out every year between Thanksgiving and New Years. There was an underlying sense of desperation as throngs of shoppers searched out just the right gift, be it a perfect one for that special person. Or be it for the perfect price for anyone.
Casey Todd was tired, hot, and getting more and more perturbed with her fellow man as she continued to battle her way through the seething masses. Sweat dampened her short blonde hair and beaded her forehead above her spring green eyes. Once upon a time she would only have come in the wee hours of the morning. It wasn't her favorite store by a long shot but it was the one most convenient place to get everything she needed without having to go all over town. And when you were dependent upon public transportation, convenience and cost became paramount. She had become used to not being able to drive in the years after her mild stroke, but there were times when the longing to once again own a car and drive herself became almost unbearable. Invariably the Christmas season was one of those times.
She maneuvered her cart around a woman and her squabbling two kids in the greeting card aisle as she searched out a card for a couple whose thirtieth wedding anniversary was coming up on New Years Eve. If they weren't such dear friends she would have picked up the first she found and gone with it, but she couldn't find it in her heart to be so cavalier. So she began to search through the endless variety for one that was not only attractive but which had the most personal sentiment. She was well into her single minded search when she became aware of someone standing nearby, watching her. Looking up she found herself staring into the past.
He had changed in the five and a half years since she'd seen him last. Still tall with rangy good looks, but now his once disreputable appearance had been replaced with well groomed hair and well fitting jeans and sweater. Had he not been looking right at her she doubted whether she would have recognized him.
“Hello Robert,” she greeted him softly, her expression carefully neutral as old defenses went up.
“Casey.” His voice was still like deep velvet and his smile still warm and good humored. His brown eyes were calm and watchful. “How are you?”
She straightened to face him fully. “I'm well. And you?”
He nodded, moving aside briefly to let the woman with the kids pass, “Doing okay.”
“And how are Phyllis and Bradley?”
His smile faltered a little.
“Brad is doing fine. He's finishing up his sophomore year in college now.”
“And Phyllis?”
“As far as I know she is doing okay as well.”
“As far as you know?”
“I haven't seen her in two years.”
“Really?”
He nodded slowly, “Since our divorce.”
She paused, looking at him consideringly.
“So you finally went through with it.”
“As soon as Brad graduated from high school, just as I'd said.”
“And are you happy now?”
There was a long moment before he looked away, took a deep breath, then looked back.
“I'm not unhappy.”
Casey nodded before adding the card she'd almost forgotten she held to her purchases.
“That's good.” She took a grip on her cart handle, “Well, it's been-”
He took a half step forward, “Casey, wait.”
She stopped and watched as he seemed to struggle with himself. Behind her defenses she struggled with her own mixed emotions.
“Look, this isn't the place to say what I need to say. Will you come with me to the food court?”
“Why should I?”
“Please? It's important.”
Common sense told her to refuse, but curiosity and something more had her nodding, and they made their way to the back of the store. Once there she parked her cart and he led her to a quieter area, away from most of the noise and activity. They took their seats at a small table that was still littered here and there with bread crumbs. It sat against a back wall.
“Can I get you something to drink? A coke?”
She shook her head, expression guarded, “No.”
He sat for a few moments, looking down at his hands on the table, before raising his eyes to hers.
“I've missed you.”
Immediately she started to stand back up but stopped when he touched her arm.
“Please, Casey, hear me out.”
Slowly she sat back down and his hand fell away. Taking a deep breath he met her wary eyes with his own intent gaze.
“You and I were friends,” he began, “but I was too selfish and irresponsible to realize that. I kept pushing you for something you weren't willing to give...”
“Because you were married, Robert.”
“Yes,” he nodded and looked down for a moment. After a pause his eyes again met hers, regret shining from them like beacons, “I wasn't happy in my marriage but instead of handling it like an adult I was like a spoiled boy. I used people, women. I took without giving.”
“Except as they could be bought.”
Again he nodded, “Yes. Until you told me in no uncertain terms that you weren't a whore to be bought and sold.” He smiled wryly. “Blew my mind. I didn't think women like you existed anymore.”
“That doesn't say much about the company you keep.”
“Kept,” he corrected, the smile vanishing, “and, no, it doesn't. We became friends but I never could quite get past not being able to manipulate you. You forced me to respect you and that didn't sit well because it forced me to see myself in a less than positive light.”
“So why did you continue to want to be friends?”
“Frankly, at the time I didn't realize we were friends. I was after one thing, or thought I was, so I played along to try to win you over.” He chuckled sadly. “I didn't realize that despite all that self centeredness I was being won over by you.”
Casey just stared at him, face impassive while she continued to seethe with ambiguous emotions. She was remembering her own temptations and conflictions, and the many times she'd told herself to walk away. But, always, there was that feeling of being friends and since he had stopped pushing so hard and been merely flirtatious she had stayed.
“I never lied to you, Casey,” he insisted, “Not once did I lie to you.”
She nodded and looked away, “No, you were always very up front about things. You even admitted to cheating on your wife more than once. But instead of being disgusted with you, I felt sorry for you.”
“Sorry for me?”
She nodded, her eyes softening with remembered reproach.
“Yes. You were talking about cheating on your wife. I saw it more as your cheating on yourself.”
He was genuinely puzzled, “I don't understand.”
“I believed that somewhere beneath all that dishonesty and immaturity there really was a decent person hidden away. But you turned away before I could see him.”
He was silent for a long time as he pushed bread crumbs around with a forefinger.
“I got tired of not getting anywhere with you. I was angry and my ego was involved...” Without looking up he paused for a moment, then continued, “I was already backing off when Dad died. As we prepared for his funeral my knowledge of him grew as people talked about the life he'd led, how they respected and admired him. When I compared myself to him I was left feeling ashamed of who I had become. So I decided to work harder at my marriage, to see if it could be saved. That's why you didn't hear from me again.”
“But it couldn't.”
“No. We both tried but too much had happened. There was no trust. There really wasn't anything binding us except Brad. We agreed to stay together until he graduated from high school and we divorced soon after.” He took a breath and looked at the ceiling before meeting her gaze once again. “Sometime during all of that I grew up and I looked back at all the good that I'd blown and regretted it. I'm sorry that I threw so much away, including the relationship we had. I promised myself that if I ever had an opportunity to say I was sorry I would.”
They sat for a moment, each with their own thoughts, before Casey extended her own apology.
“I know that I must have seemed like I was playing games. I'd play along with you then stop when things got too hot.”
He chuckled, “Too hot? You never even let me kiss you.”
“No, but it must have seemed like I was leading you on sometimes and for that I'm sorry. The truth is that I was out of my depth with you. You wanted things from me that I wanted to give but I couldn't get past my own sense of values. So I was in a constant state of inner conflict. Added to that was a shocking lack of experience and, well, I didn't handle things very well.”
The regarded one another with almost identically bemused expressions before Robert leaned back a ways from the table top and, with a hopeful smile, extended his right hand.
“Then shall we accept one another's apology, shake hands, and start over?”
She returned his smile and placed her hand in his, “Apology accepted.”
He gave it a small shake but didn't release it before he said, “Hi, my name is Robert. I'm single and would like to get to know you again.”
“Hello, Robert. My name is Casey. I'm pleased to meet you.”
You have a way with creating these true to form, life-like vignettes that seem to ring true. A snapshot of life that is very well written and compelling. The reader wants more.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
6/25/2020
A story of reconciliation. Well-written. Makes me think that chance meetings like this do rekindle old relationships that didn't go over very far for various reasons, first time around.
A collection of love poetry both relatable and unique.. Poems both joyful, playfu , yearning and romantic. The Poet has exposed his heart and soul in words of love and admiration. Take a journey through the thoughts of a Contempary poet of love. Poet
I met Jerome on a busy city street in Baltimore, Maryland, when he was forty-five years old. On that particular day, I was out and about, enjoying a much-needed day off from work.
I wanted to purchase a sukiyaki sub. I parked my car in an area of
A collection of love poetry both relatable and unique.. Poems both joyful, playfu , yearning and romantic. The Poet has exposed his heart and soul in words of love and admiration. Take a journey through the thoughts of a Contempary poet of love. Poet
The massive discount store was a mess, but, then, what was new about that? And with Christmas being a mere week away it was an even bigger mess than usual. Jolly holiday music played overhead and everywhere were signs of the season, including the “Santa Special” sale tags and endless displays of tackiness that come out every year between Thanksgiving and New Years. There was an underlying sense of desperation as throngs of shoppers searched out just the right gift, be it a perfect one for that special person. Or be it for the perfect price for anyone.
