An Unexpected Reunion

“Simon?” I whispered the word involuntarily.

The man standing in line just ahead of me at the checkout counter turned in response.  His blue eyes widened when he saw me.  He also recognized me, I could tell.

“Dana? What are you doing here?” I had loved listening to him talk when we had dated in high school, thinking it was such a beautiful, grown up voice.  Now, it was richer, deeper and still made me warm inside.  I never would have guessed he’d have that effect on me after all these years.

“Oh. Well, I’m back visiting my folks.  They asked all of us to come home for one last family Christmas at the old house.”  His hair was still dark, with rich auburn highlights.  There was still that lock that flopped onto his forehead.  I remembered I used to love to use it as an excuse to touch his hair.  I had used any excuse to touch him when we had dated as teenagers, or no excuse at all.

“The last one?  Why will it be the last?” He raised an eyebrow at me. Although the bones of his face were sharper than they had been when he was younger, he was still youthful and handsome.
 
“They’ve decided to become snowbirds.  They are moving to Florida in a few months and selling their house. How are your folks doing?” I tried to shift the topic.  I was still sore that they were selling the house my and my siblings had grown up in.  Simon had known how much I loved growing up in that old house; would he remember the way we’d talked about raising our own kids there? Although I knew that it was the best move for my parents, in almost every way, I would sorely miss the memories held in that house.  It was far too large for single me, or I would consider buying it from them. I still didn’t have any kids to raise there, though.

“My parents are fine. They sold their old house and moved to Arizona a couple of years back.  They are actually visiting right now.” He moved up in line and began to move his items from his shopping cart to the conveyor belt.  I watched in amazement as he loaded two gallons of milk, diapers and all sorts of food appealing to little kids onto the belt.

“Oh. You have kids? You must be married?” I hadn’t heard that he’d gotten married. I felt oddly let down.

“I was married.  My wife…she passed away almost a year ago.” His voice was soft and strained.  I flinched from the pain it held. 

“I’m so sorry, Si.  I didn’t know.” I reached to touch his arm, to offer comfort.  I didn’t know what else to say.  He looked at my hand on his arm and then up at my face.  He covered my hand with his briefly and then turned back to pay for his groceries.  He was quiet.  I looked at the magazines on the rack beside me, then at the candy bars. I fiddled with one of the cheap plastic toys on display.  Then I looked at him again.

“Si?  May I ask…that is, how many children do you have?”  My heart hurt for him and his children.  I hadn’t ever experienced a loss like his, I could only imagine the hole that would be left behind.

“I have two kids.  Two girls.” He ran his credit card through the scanner as he answered me.

“How old are they?”  I couldn’t decide if it was curiosity or picking at a very old scab.  He and I had once talked of getting married and having children.  In the back of my mind, I could hear a voice whispering that they could have been mine. They could have been Simon’s and mine.

“Effie is three and Bridget is fourteen months old.”  My eyes widened.  Fourteen months old?  His wife must have died shortly after giving birth.

“They are lucky to have you, Si.  You obviously love them both very much.”  He looked at me.  His eyes burned with love, with anger, and with a poignant sorrow.  It did not seem possible that he could contain all of his emotions.  His jaw ticked with tension.  He was clenching his teeth, just as I remembered him doing when he was upset.

“Yeah. I do love them.  I have to go.  Mom is watching them and Effie gets upset if I take too long away from her.”  He turned to go with his cart of bagged groceries.

“Wait, Si!”  The cashier had started scanning my groceries.  I didn’t have much.  He turned back to me, waiting impatiently.

“Have coffee with me sometime this week?  I’d like to talk to you more.”  I felt like there was something I needed to say to him or hear from him.  Seeing him again, I remembered all of the questions that we had left hanging so many years ago; the promises of a lifetime, the love we’d thought we shared.  I just had to spend some more time with him, if I could.

“I don’t know.  I don’t like to leave the girls.” He turned away. 

“Bring them along. Please.  I’d like to meet your daughters.”  The cashier cleared her throat.

“Ma’am. How will you pay?” The cashier asked, bringing me back to the task at hand.  I dug my wallet out of my purse and extracted my debit card.  I looked at him, still standing there by his cart with his back tense and his head bowed.  I ran my card through the reader.

“Ok, Dana.  I’ll call you at your parents’ house to arrange when.  Ok?” He looked back at me until I nodded, then he hurried away, the wheels of his cart squeaking against how fast he was going. It took some concentration to finish paying for my things, as my mind was more intent on the unexpected reunion that had just taken place.

I wandered to my car, carrying my small bags of toiletries, lost in memories of Simon and our youthful romance and contemplating the life he’d lived since then.

Read the whole story here: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, and El Fin