A Love That Never Dies

"I guess you're doing very well at Duke," I said.

"Well, I made Dean's list first semester and I'm hoping to do the same this semester. I'm calling because I'm going to be moving into an apartment with a friend next month and I'm going to stay in school over the summer. Going back to Birmingham isn't a great thrill for me, so I'm just going to stay in school until I'm finished. Anyway . . . I'd like to get the rest of my stuff out of my bedroom and I was wondering if you'd let me take the bedroom furniture, too."

I was stunned. This was really the last tie that I had to Sally and she was wanting to eliminate the last vestiges of any connection whatsoever.

"Sure, honey. Whatever you want. You know . . . when I left you in Durham . . . I was just trying to do what I thought was best for both of us, and . . .."

"You were right, Tom, but, uh . . . I've got to get to class now. I'm passing through Gainesville next weekend and I've got a friend with a truck, so we'll stop by and get the stuff then, okay? Talk to you later."

Click. Dial tone. Arrow through my heart, and not Cupid's arrow

I was reeling like I had been stabbed in the gut with a very sharp knife. Just when I thought I had adapted to how bad life can become . . . it got worse.

At the office, I told Doreen what had happened. She knew what to say and what to do.

"You don't really want to see her, do you? I mean, you don't want to deal with goodbye and you don't want to see the friend who has the pickup truck and . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're right," I said to Doreen. "But . . . I've got to do it. She'll be here Saturday and I promised her."

"I'm going to help you out with this one, Tom, and then you'll owe me big time, but we'll talk about the terms of repayment later. Tomorrow, I'm going to come over to your house and we're going to box up everything that we can. We'll take the bed apart and we'll move all the boxes and the furniture down to the garage. When you know what time Sally is coming by, you call me and I'll come to your house to wait for her. You can leave and go do whatever you want and I'll call you to let you know when she's gone."

"That sounds great except . . . it sounds like I'm chickening out, running away. It doesn't sound very good."

"Tell me anything good that might come from you seeing Sally on Saturday," Doreen challenged me.

"Well, Sally might see me and have a change of heart and decide to come back here for the summer," I offered.

"Yeah, that might happen," Doreen admitted, with some emphasis on the word 'might.' "And Martians might land in my back yard tonight. Do you want to come over and sit up and wait on them with me?"

"Yeah, I guess that isn't going to happen," I begrudgingly conceded.

"And what if it did happen? A few months from now, you'd be going through the same thing again," Doreen projected.

"Yeah, you're right. Do you think Larry and Jim can handle the office without you tomorrow?" I asked.

"They could do it blindfolded," Doreen assured me.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Doreen came to my house with some banker's boxes and wardrobe boxes and we spent a few hours packing everything and moving the furniture to the garage. I have a neighbor whose son was home on leave from the Army and the son helped move the furniture. He was a nice kid and I gave the young man a couple of cases of beer for his efforts.

Doreen and I were finished by noon and I told her she could take the afternoon off.

"Okay, but you've got to buy me lunch first," she replied.

I know she was just trying to distract me and keep me from thinking about Sally. Doreen was the best.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

I got the call from Sally about 9:45 am. She said she would be at the house around 11:00 am. I told her that would be fine. I then called Doreen and she was at my house in fifteen minutes.

"Go watch a baseball game at a sports bar or go to the butterfly exhibit or . . . just go get lost," she said, "and I'll call you when it's over."

When I returned home that afternoon, Doreen told me all of the details that she thought I should hear.

"Well, of course, the first thing Sally asked about was you. Maybe you didn't want me to say this but I thought she needed to hear the truth. I told her that you were just too upset over losing her to confront the situation and I had more-or-less ordered you to leave. She asked if you and I had started dating and I looked her straight in the eyes and told her that if you had started dating me, you would already be over her. So then we loaded everything on the truck and it was over in about twenty minutes."

"So who was the friend with the truck?" I asked.

"The girl she's sharing the apartment with is Isabella and the 'friend' was Isabella's father," Doreen said. "They had driven down to Ocala to get Isabella's stuff and her dad was driving the truck back up to Durham."

If Doreen was telling me a lie, it was a good lie. If what she told me wasn't the truth . . . I didn't want to know the truth.

"Okay, now let's go upstairs. I want you to see something," Doreen said.

We went upstairs and she led me to Sally's bedroom.

"What room is this?" Doreen asked.

"You know what room it is. It's Sally's bedroom!" I answered.

"No, it's the empty bedroom that used to be Sally's bedroom. Now it's just an empty bedroom."

"Now, show me where Connie is in this house," she issued her next challenge.

"Well, of course, she's not here physically. Her body's in the cemetery and her soul is in Heaven . . . but there're things here that remind me of her."

"Sally told me about Connie's gold sequined dress. I'll bet every time you see a woman in a gold sequined dress, you're going to think about Connie, right?" Doreen prompted me.

"Well, yeah," I admitted.

"And every time you see some cute little blonde who looks like a real classy lady, you're going to think about Connie, right?"

"Yeah. So . . . what's your point?"

"Tom, you will always have reminders of your past. You can sell this house, you can stay here and seal off Sally's old bedroom, you can do whatever you want but you'll never escape the reminders of the past . . . and that's okay, because you don't need to forget the past before you move forwards with your life. It's okay to start having a life again and still get reminded of Connie or Sally. If you meet somebody new and you start getting involved with them and, all of a sudden, one day, something happens and you're reminded of Connie . . . that new lady isn't going to run away from you, not unless she's a total shithead, in which case you don't need her."

"I don't want to start dating. Everybody gets taken away from me and it hurts too much!"

"Yeah, I know all about that. I wasted too many years with that worthless ex-husband of mine and every guy I meet now just wants to get laid. But, you know what, I'm not sitting around crying for myself. Nobody's going to give you an RSVP that says they'd be delighted to attend your pity party. Damn it, Tom, stop wallowing in it or I'm going to have to kick you in the ass and I really don't want to have to do something that might cost me the best job of my life."

"Thanks, Doreen. However much I pay you, it's probably not enough," I said jokingly.

"You missed the point, Tom. I'm not doing this because I'm your employee and you pay me. I'm doing this because . . . because of how I feel about you. So open your eyes and start dealing with the rest of the fucking world, okay?!"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied in my best Southern boy voice.

Friday, October 11, 2013

So, as I started out . . . It was a Friday night and I was sitting in my outdoor hot tub, naked and alone. At the moment, I wasn't drunk. I was nursing a double of straight scotch. My hopes were to drink to the point of inebriation and get out of the hot tub before I passed out, find the bed, and fall into a state of unconsciousness.

My morose solitude was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Late at night, I knew this wasn't a pesky solicitor or Mormon missionary or Jehovah's Witness. 'Piss on it,' I thought, 'I might as well answer the damn door and see who it is.'

I exited the hot tub and pulled on a robe. The bell rang again before I could get to the door and I felt a little bit irritated about being interrupted.

I opened the door and was greeted by Doreen.

"Hi," she said.

"Is there something that you forgot to tell me at the office today, because this really goes above and beyond the call of duty, Miss Doreen," I said.

"Yes and no. I have something to tell you but it doesn't concern the office. I know you've been marinating in your depression and I know that this is the anniversary of Connie's passing, and that's why it's important that I bring you a message tonight. Can I come in?"

"Sure, yeah. Sorry, I've forgotten my manners," I apologized.

Doreen came in and sat on the sofa in the living room. I sat on the other end of the sofa, a respectable distance for friends.

"Message from who?" I asked.

"I have a message from someone who cared very much about you. Her greatest hope was that you would get over her and get on with your life. She accepted the fact that you weren't meant to be together for very long; she regretted it but she accepted it. She asked me to make sure that you moved forward with your life and she told me to come over here and kick you in the ass if you didn't."

"That doesn't sound like Sally," I said.

"It wasn't. It was Connie," Doreen said quietly.

I was stunned.

"When Connie knew that it was just a matter of time, she called and asked me to visit her one day so we could talk in private. She knew she was dying and she said that she didn't want you to die with her. She was convinced that you would mourn for a very long time. So, she told me that I should wait a respectable length of time and then, if something developed between you and me, we would have her blessing. And even if I wasn't the one, she told me to kick you in the butt until you started living again. So, here I am."

"So she told you to come over here and seduce me?" I asked.

"No, of course not. Connie knew that I've always had the hots for you . . .."

"What?" I asked.

"Tom, you must be the stupidest fucker on this planet if you don't know that I've always had the hots for you. Connie wasn't threatened by it because she trusted you and she trusted me. But . . . Connie liked me, just like I really liked her, and . . . she thought we might be a good match, so she wanted to make sure that her memory wouldn't interfere with any possibilities of something developing if you ever pulled your head out of your ass and started living again."

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed.

"She also told me about Sally. She said that Sally had a crush on you and, after she was gone, it wouldn't take much for you two to connect but, if you did, it wouldn't last long. She was right. So . . . I've been sitting back and waiting and watching, and I guess it's time for you to stand up and bend over or . . .."

"Or what?" I asked.

"Or just stand up and see what happens," Doreen said.

What the hell did I have to lose? I didn't think Doreen would actually kick me, so I stood up. Doreen stood and walked over to face me.

"Put your arms around me, Tom," Doreen instructed me.

As I complied with her request, I felt her arms reaching around my chest and hugging me. Doreen looked up at me and smiled. She looked into my eyes and seconds seemed to be minutes. The gaze between us was intense and I couldn't allow it to continue. I did the only thing I knew how to do under the circumstances.

I bent my head down and brought my lips to hers and I gave her a very gentle kiss. It was not a passionate, tongue probing, lovers-being-parted kiss, but it was not a platonic, brother-sister kiss either.

When we broke our kiss, Doreen looked at me and said, "Sally loved you in a way that you'll always remember, and I can't replace that. I can't compete with that, but . . . she's not the only one who can ever love you. If you take a chance with me, I'll try to never disappoint you."

"You really want to get hooked up with a sorry guy who's always got a black cloud following him around?"

"I'm here and, if you ask, I'll spend the night with you. And if you don't ask, I'm going to feel pretty foolish, but . . . sometimes you've just got to take a chance and go for it," Doreen replied.

"I have to warn you. I've been told that I snore rather loudly," I facetiously cautioned her.

"And I have a mole on my ass in the shape of Wisconsin," she teased me.

"Really?" I questioned her.

"Only one way to find out, so . . . I have an overnight bag in the car. Should I bring it in?" she asked, obviously wanting to end out teasing and get a serious answer to her proposition.

"No," I responded. "I'll go get it for you."

THE END