Way-Back Machine

Was it my imagination or was it real? Was it truly him or did I only want it to be him? No. I didn’t want it to be him. That would be too embarrassing.

It was a casual shopping day so long ago I’ve forgotten many details. A common, at the time anyway, name brand large department store. Not even there anymore.

Turned into a health clinic, I think. Not important.

I was there alone. Where were all my kids? In school, I suppose. Who can get any serious shopping done with four kids in tow? Not me. Anyway, there I was in the drug store department picking out something mundane like shampoo. Oh, I hope it wasn’t feminine products or hair coloring. I’m pretty sure at that time I still kept my natural color. Doesn’t matter. Maybe it wasn’t that aisle, could have been looking at towels and wash cloths. Some kind of toiletries. Really, I don’t remember.

I do remember it was a rough time in my life. Rough because my husband had recently walked out of our lives. For another woman, of course. A much younger woman. Only six years older than our oldest son. What a jerk! Right? Who does that after sixteen years and promises of forever? Oh, yeah, men in mid-life crisis. Well, that could be a story all in itself but for now only wanted to establish how low I was feeling.

I always say the best diet I ever went on was losing 180 pounds of unfaithful husband. Well, it was true and I had finally lost the twenty pounds the Ex always said I should lose. Mind you we owned a fitness center so I worked out constantly. It wasn’t like I never tried. But when he left I didn’t feel like eating or doing much of anything. The only thing that kept me going was getting up to care for the kids.

The result, ironically, was that I looked hot! Wash-board abs (now I carry the whole tub) and muscles showing that were camouflaged under that excess layer. I could fit into jeans. Before they were never quite right. If the waist fit the legs didn’t and vice-versa.

So I had on jeans, whatever was stylish in the late eighties (stone-washed maybe?). And a light pink Henley shirt. Usually I was always in sweats so this was a huge improvement. It was warm enough to not be wearing a jacket or coat. I only remember this because at the time I was grateful I didn’t look like a frumpy housewife. My hair was probably loose and flowing. Anyway, looking good in my memory. There may be a lesson to be learned – never go out in public looking like something the cat wouldn’t drag in.

I looked up from whatever I was contemplating buying and saw him in the opposite aisle across the middle aisle. Far enough away I wasn’t totally sure it was him. It had been something like eighteen to twenty years since I saw him and he had a young boy with him. I don’t think he noticed me right then. Why would he?

My heart may have skipped a beat as my mind took me on a way-back machine ride. Transported in time. Back to high school years. Back to back seats in sixties’ fast back cars.

It may be safe to mention this probably was the young man who was my first love. The one I should have said yes to but didn’t, the one I wanted to marry before I said yes, the one I would have waited for but he couldn’t wait for me. The one who broke my heart.

It was actually in eighth grade that he first turned my head. He surprised me by sitting next to me on the bus ride home. A short ride because I was the first stop on the route. He was the last but he sat by me when he got on and everyday after even though his mom would usually take him to school. The romance was short-lived because I moved away to a bigger town ten miles away. An insurmountable distance at that age. He would still walk into town and call me from the pay-phone booth.

When he got his driver’s license a couple of years later he found my front doorstep. We dated for nearly two years before he asked for his ring back. But at prom time our senior year he showed up again asking me to attend his gala. I was dating my future husband at the time and was more sure of his unfailing devotion to me than this impatient player. I turned him down.

That didn’t keep me from remembering him. I only knew of his life by little clips in the news paper. An engagement announcement, a job promotion, a birth notice and such. I knew who his wife was, what career path he was on and how many kids they had, where they lived. That may make me sound like a stalker but truly these are small towns. I had a satisfying life of my own. He may or may not have known the same about me. I hadn’t actually run into him except once briefly when I was toting three kids around and heavily pregnant with my fourth.

What a rush that time travel was! Back at the store, I turned a corner and there he stood before me. Yep, it was him and he knew me, too.

“Oh, hello, Joe. Imagine running into you. It’s been a long time. Is this your little boy? He looks a lot like you.”

“Hi, Mary. It has been a long time. How have you been? You haven’t changed a bit. You’re looking good. This is my nephew, Pat’s boy. He only looks like me.”

“I’ve been fine. Thanks for asking. I have four of my own. They’re growing up so fast.”

“Have four myself. I know what you mean. Look, it’s been great running into you. I’d love to stay and chat a little while but I’ve got to get Junior here to his afternoon kindergarten class. Maybe we’ll see each other again sometime.”

“Sure. Bye now.”

Was that the truth or was it a brush off? Didn’t matter. What more did we have to talk about? I couldn’t exactly pour my heart out to a happily married man, could I? Felt strange I had chosen my husband because I knew he wouldn’t leave me but he did. Would Joe also have left me a second time? Later I talked to a classmate from our mutual eighth grade class and she told me Joe cheated on his wife. So I would not have been better off at all. Time to count my blessings and move on.