An Unexpected Reunion, Part Six

As the next couple of days of my vacation drifted by, I began to feel that my running out of the mall in response to Effie’s announcement had been an even worse idea than going to the mall itself. I was mortified by how I’d exposed my own fears and fantasies to Simon and his mother.  I was the only one of my siblings not yet married with children.  It wasn’t for lack of desire to be a wife and a mother, but for lack of desirable men.  Standing there in that mall with Simon and his children, even being mistaken for a part of their family, it had given me a chance to pretend.  For just a few minutes I’d been able to fool myself into believing that Simon was still the love of my life and that his children were also mine.  When Effie had announced that she wanted a mother and had clearly been pegging me for the job, I felt as if all of my innermost fantasies were on view to the world.  I could not imagine how or why Effie had decided I would be a good mother for her.  She had only just met me.

I had heard that children were good judges of character, but I’d never thought they could read minds! It had felt like she had not only spoken of her own desire for a new mom, but that she’d somehow sensed that my own dearest wish was to be a wife and a mother.  The feeling was totally illogical and made no sense, but it still haunted me. Especially because I couldn’t remember feeling the overwhelming domestic urges when I’d been in California.  Apparently, it had taken coming home and running into Simon to make my biological clock begin ticking so loudly.

“Aunt Dana, why aren’t you married?” My very serious eight year old niece, Rebecca, asked me, startling me out of my thoughts.  I had been staring off into space, ignoring my family all around me. My nieces and nephews were scattered in groups on the floor around the room, playing everything from cars to board games. The oldest of my nephews, sixteen year old Jake, turned from his card game and said, “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask things like that?”

“It’s alright.  I’m not married because I haven’t found anyone I want to spend my life with, Rebecca.”  My niece tilted her head to the side and, looking at me very seriously, she frowned. 

“Have you ever been in love?” She asked.

“Yes, I have.”

“Didn’t you want to be with that person forever?” Ah, the innocence of youth, I thought.

“I did for awhile, but things changed,” I said.  Far be it from me to spoil a young girl’s dreams of happily ever after.  I knew her parents set an example of love that was hard to beat.  They’d been together since high school, over fifteen years now.  I had yet to see a sign of their honeymoon actually ending.  It was actually pretty disgusting from my point of view, how they were always cuddling together and joking around.  Well, it was disgusting in that  “I’m so jealous my skin is green” kind of way. I sighed.

“I don’t understand how things could change,” she said.  “I mean, I thought true love lasted forever and that love could defeat anything.” She sounded truly puzzled.  I looked around for her mother or father, hoping they could rescue me.  Instead, I found my mom watching me.  She came over to us and spoke quietly.

“Sometimes, darling, even though two people love each other very much, they can’t see how that love will keep them together.  So, they give up in the face of difficulties that seem too hard.  If they’d looked to their love, and to each other, they’d have seen that the difficulties were not so overwhelming.”  Even though my mom was directing her speech towards my niece, I knew she was talking to me.  I frowned.  What did she know about it all, I wondered.  I stood up, murmured “excuse me”, and headed to the door.

“Where are you headed, Dana?” My mother asked.

“I think I’m going to take a walk and say good bye to some of my favorite places, maybe do some thinking.  It’s hard to think with everyone crowded in here ” I gestured towards the kids sprawled on the floor chattering as they played, the adults gathered in the kitchen chatting and laughing loudly, and the toddlers and preschoolers, happily careening around amongst everyone. They were stealing sips from drinks, nibbles from plates and hugs and kisses wherever they could find them. There were lots of hugs and kisses being handed out.

My mother nodded, “Dinner’s going to be in about half an hour.  Don’t be too long.”

“Ok, Mom,” I said.  I dug through the pile of coats and found my warm, cozy coat buried halfway down.  I grabbed a soft, fuzzy scarf, a bright red hat and some mittens I was pretty sure my sister had knitted. I didn’t really pay attention to who each item belonged to.  I only cared that they’d keep me warm.  It had gotten cold and windy through the afternoon.  I could feel the heavy expectancy hanging on the breeze, as if nature was waiting breathlessly for more snow to fall.

I followed the path my family had trampled in the old snow.  It led to the woods on the edge of my parents’ property. I frowned because I realized that I may not have too many more times to tramp this path before Mom and Dad had their house sold.

Just a few yards into the woods, the path became a wooden bridge which crossed over a tiny frozen stream.  I stopped on the bridge and leaned against the railing, looking out into the woods.  It was almost full dark, but I could still see the outlines of the tree branches against the white of the snow.  I heard the creaking of the branches, and the whisper of the breeze.  The tiny stream was silent, frozen in glittering splendor beneath me.  I’d spent many hours exploring that stream with my siblings and friends.  Simon and I had wandered it’s length together many times, catching tiny crayfish from under their rocks and splashing through the gentle flow.

I remembered the times we’d sat on that bridge, talking and occasionally kissing.  Back when my siblings and I were younger, my dad had kept the woods trimmed back farther so that the stream and the bridge were mostly visible from the house.  I remembered how Simon and I would get lost in the kisses while sitting on that bridge, forgetting to talk or even to come up for air. Invariably, before too long one of my parents would call us in for a snack or to help with something, breaking the sexual tension in the air and cooling our arousal.

When I was much younger, I’d asked my mom why she kept asking my sister, sitting on the porch swing with her boyfriend, if she wanted a drink.  Mom was never the sort to wait on us, so it seemed an odd thing for her to do.  Mom had said, “Dana, you’ll find when you’re older, that teenage love is a very powerful, emotional sort of love.  It has great potential, but only if it’s given the proper kind of attention.  I’m just helping to make sure your sister’s love is given the sort of attention that helps it realize it’s full potential.”  I hadn’t understood then, but now I realized that my sister had married that boyfriend and was still happy with him years later.  My parents had probably done something right, I figured, by encouraging them to talk instead of touch in the early days of their romance.

I watched my breath puff out into the cold air.  I remembered the conversations Simon and I had had, often punctuated by flirting and laughter and teasing.  We had been sitting on the bridge in the late summer before we went to college when we’d first talked really seriously about getting married.  He had taken my hand on to his lap, lacing our fingers together.  He’d stared at our entwined hands very seriously before looking up into my eyes.

“We’re going to be apart soon.” I had nodded. He had squeezed my hands.

“You will marry me, won’t you, Dana?” He’d asked abruptly.  He’d always been like that, leaping from one topic to another.  It had been such a challenge to keep up with his lightening quick thought processes.

“Of course I will, once we finish with college.” I had smiled into his eyes and leaned forward to kiss him.

Two months later, I’d broken up with him over the phone.  It had broken my heart to hear his tears and I’d had tears racing down my face when I’d done it.  Now I wondered: Had I been to quick to give in to my fears?  Had I been unfair and unfaithful to our relationship by doubting it’s ability to survive the challenges of distance and accidents? I sighed now, and realized I had tears rolling down my cheeks.  Of all the mistakes I’d made in my life, breaking up with him after that pregnancy scare was probably the one I regretted the most.

I still compared all men to him, mentally sizing them up to his humor, his caring, his good looks, and his loving.  Not a single one had ever lived up to the standards he had set.  Not a single one of the men I had dated in the last ten years had ever made me long for marriage and babies.  But ten minutes after seeing him again, my brain had latched on to the idea with such strength that I had been dreaming of the possibilities in the middle of a crowded mall!

I heard a voice yelling, “Dinner!” from the house and sighed.  I had a decision or two to make.  Did I go back to California and my life there and hope to forget about Simon once more? Or did I take a chance, a risk, and talk to him about the possibility of dating him again…of possibly marrying him?  What if he already had a girlfriend or a fiance?  What if he just didn’t want me anymore?

As I trudged back up the hill, wiping the evidence of the tears from my face, I had an incredible thought.  Maybe, just maybe, the thought could be turned into a plan.  I began to ponder the possibilities in my head, feeling like a devious cartoon villain, rubbing my hands together, greedily seeing all my dreams and aspirations coming true. 

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