“A lot can happen in a year. Think about it. In less than a year, we’ll be taking her to her first day of school.” I sigh audibly. “I already feel like we’ve lost so much time with her, Jack,” I tell him, my eyes tearing on what I knew would be an emotional day. He pulls me into a hug and nuzzles his head to mine, holding me tight, his slow and calm breathing in my ear settling my nerves as I think about what the future holds for us.
Will our little girl cry on her first day of school, like I did when I watched my mommy leave me, alone in a room with a bunch of strange kids? Or will she be like Jack, the strong one, sitting at her tiny desk, waving me away as I watch her from the door, wistful tears pooling in my eyes?
Will Livvy believe that there really is a pixie that flies around, giving children silver dollars when they lose their teeth? I could remember the excitement that came the night before, and the wonder I would wake up to as I held the coin in my hand the next morning. Jack told me he only pretended to sleep on the night he lost his second tooth, just waiting to see this so called “fairy,” who looked remarkably similar to his mother. He kept the secret, didn’t spoil it for his siblings.
She was already so curious and creative, I wasn’t sure she’d end up spending her summers with her nose buried in books, or outside, committing the beauties of nature to memory so she could paint them quietly in her room at night.
Would she excel in the arts? Or academics? Or sports?
And how would she handle her first crush? Her first heartbreak? How would we handle it? Would it ever get easier, seeing her cry?
What about her first love? Or second? Or the love that would walk with her through life, always there to make her worries disappear with a single kiss. I could see Jack, sitting across the table from an eager boy, asking all the right questions to determine whether or not this kid was good enough for his little Contessa.
Hopefully, she’ll be lucky enough to eventually find someone just like her father. Her father, my partner. I look up at him and smile.
“What are you thinking about, Poppet?” he says as we start to walk together toward the exit, now just the two of us, alone.
“Her wedding day.”
“Hold it, my little girl isn’t getting married.” I laugh at his expected response. “Didn’t you just say you felt like we’d already missed too much of her life? Why are you jumping decades into the future?” He looks down at me, his blue eyes sparkling as a ray of sunshine peeks through the door that someone has pushed back open.
“I just wonder who she’ll take after,” I tell him.
“I hope a little of both of us,” he says. “Only time will tell.”
“Going forward, I just want to make every single day count.”
“I promise to make every single day count,” Jack vows. “I promise.”
“I promise,” I whisper back to him.
“Daddy, are you coming?” Livvy’s little figure silhouettes in the doorway, the bright sunshine obscuring any details.
“Yes, baby, we’re coming,” he answers her, walking toward her. Jack’s long stride beats me to her and he sweeps her up, carrying her out of the building and leading our families down the steps.
From the shadowy hallway, the bright afternoon sun beckons me as I watch them from the great doorway of the courthouse. I admire Jack as he listens to Livvy’s chatter, completely captivated by every word. I can’t hear the conversation, but every time I hear his voice, she laughs heartily, kicking her feet playfully.
Nearing the crosswalk that leads to the parking garage, Jack stops suddenly, adjusting Livvy on his hip and looking around slowly. Our eyes meet from across the courtyard. He nods his head slightly, signaling for me to join them before they cross the street. I’ve never seen him so happy, so content, so... complete... as I do in this moment. I recognize the same feelings in myself, and know that this is the way my life is supposed to be.
I smile broadly, take a deep breath, and step out into the noonday radiance, toward my family, my daughter, my husband, my true love... and I never look back.
~ * ~
BONUS CONTENT
Love, Lost
A reworked chapter from Never Look Back, this short story received an Honorable Mention in the Mainstream/Literary Short Story category in the 78th Annual Writer’s Digest Writing Competition.
In the Mind of a Dying Man
In the last moments of his life, a man cherishes all the moments he had with the woman he loves.
LOVE, LOST
JACK
In the hallway of the hotel, outside the ballroom, I practice the toast I’m going to deliver to my best friend and his fiancée. I have known Chris for eleven years. He is more like a younger brother to me. We met in college when he pledged my fraternity, and we shared the same values and sense of humor, so we bonded quickly.
When we initially met, his parents were going through a messy divorce. I had little knowledge of the subject, as my parents had stayed married and shared a happy life together. But being the oldest of four siblings, I was looked up to by everyone in the household. My parents had instilled in me a certain sense of responsibility, and I grew up taking care of others, being there for them as needed. My father was a workaholic, so as I grew into my teen years, I was the man of the household. I would do everything to be loyal and reliable to those I cared about, and who cared about me.
So it was a good fit when Chris moved into our fraternity house. I took him under my wing and helped him through a difficult situation. I think when you meet people at such a critical time in life, you tend to keep them close.
When Chris realized that Anna was the person he wanted to marry, I was the second person he called. His younger sister, Emi, was always the first he would turn to. In age, they were less than a year apart, and together they moved out of their father’s home when their mother left him. They attended a new high school together and stayed close to one another, holding tight to what little bit of familiarity they had left.
I could tell that Anna was “the one” that first night he told me about her. I’d known Chris when he was in relationships with other women, but none had ever really inspired him. He was so excited, so enamored with this woman... you could just hear it in his voice. Although I knew I would lose yet another one of my bachelor friends, I was happy for him.
So tonight, the night of his engagement party, I feel ready to address the crowd and wish all the best to my friend and his soon-to-be wife. Focused and confident, I’m ready to speak... until I see her.
She catches my attention from the moment she steps out of the elevator across the lobby. She is impossible to miss, in a red dress that attracts the eyes of every man around. The dress is what got my attention initially, but it is her smile that really draws me in, red lipstick outlining the most perfect lips, curled up in a way that makes it seem like she has a secret that no one else can know. I immediately want to know that secret, know every secret that she keeps.
In an instant, though, all of my confidence disappears. I feel as if I have had the wind knocked out of me as her pale green eyes meet mine. I recognize those eyes. They’ve haunted my memories for years. All of my muscles tense at the realization. It’s Emi, whom I had met one night in college, and I had not seen her nor spoken of her since then. She smiles politely at me, and I return the greeting, wondering if she recognizes me. As her eyes drop to the floor when she turns into the ballroom, I assume she does not.
I swallow, then inhale deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves. Buried feelings, one-sided though they were, return immediately, rendering me lightheaded. I need to sit down.
When I was a senior in college, Emi entered our school as a freshman and came to one of our frat parties. Even then, her smile was what drew me to her, but her green eyes were what held me there, captive. Once I started talking to her, I couldn’t focus on anything else. She made me laugh with the animated way she recalled some of her first college experiences. She was very much my opposite, but at the time, sh
e seemed to be exactly what I needed. Her free spirit made me feel more alive.
At first, after having one or two drinks, she was cute and flirtatious, and after talking to her one-on-one for an extended period of time, I was getting up the courage to ask her out. As the night wore on, though, and the alcohol took its effect on her, I lost my nerve and my chance when at least ten guys at the party had the same idea. Eventually, she had a swarm of lonely boys at her feet, bringing her beer, each hoping for a night that would end up with her in their dorm rooms. From my conversation with her, I didn’t think she was that type.
Chris, enjoying the party as much as the rest of our brothers, was naturally angry when I pointed out the crowd forming around Emi. He set out to defend her honor, slurring some threats to them, and eventually the guys backed away from his sister. Chris delivered a few choice words to her, as well, adding that she didn’t belong at his party. He called a friend of hers and asked him to come pick her up. Chris was in no shape to keep an eye on her, though, so I made it a point to do just that.
She sat outside on a picnic table, her beautiful green eyes now glazed over, tired and red. Her elbows rested on her knees, hands steadying her head. Waiting for her ride to come, a few frustrated tears escaped from her eyes as she chewed hard and deliberately on a piece of gum. A bottle of water in hand, I walked outside to join her, wanting to comfort her. I sat down next to her and fought the urge to put my arm across her shoulders, not wanting it to seem like I was coming on to her. I tried to find words to put her at ease, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. In the end, we both just sat in silence, staring out into the dark night in front of us.
After a half hour or so of sitting on that table, waiting, I had accepted the fact that her friend wasn’t coming.
“Emi, can I take you back to your dorm room?”
“He should be here by now,” she said.
“I really don’t mind.”
She sat quietly for a few more minutes before conceding. “Alright, I guess,” she said to me. I was happy to have the opportunity to see her home safely. I had no intention of “going back to her place,” but I was happy in knowing that no one else would be going there, either.
Just as she tried to move off the table, she stumbled. I reached out to steady her, and she laughed, embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” I encouraged her, trying to help her up. Her face inches from mine, she quickly leaned into me and kissed me. It took me a second to realize what was happening, as she had caught me completely off guard. But as she sat on that table, vulnerable, beautiful, her soft kiss caused a whirlwind of feelings inside of me. I cradled her face in my hands, taking in the moment with each of my senses. The lightly perfumed smell of her hair. The taste of her cinnamon gum. The warmth of her creamy skin. The music behind us, barely masking the noise of a revving car engine. The nearly translucent green color of her sad eyes... I had to open mine in an attempt to catch another glimpse. She was looking back at me with uncertainty, and we slowly moved away from one another.
As I helped her off the table, breathless, a dark convertible sports car quickly roared to a stop at the curb in front of us. Without cutting the engine or the headlights, a tall, blonde, lanky kid stepped out of the car and stared directly at her. She stopped in her tracks and looked down at her feet, shrugging away from my loose grasp.
“Emi,” he said to her, concern escaping with a rush of air from his lungs. He stood at the curb and surveyed the situation, only glancing briefly at me as if to warn me to stay away.
“Hey,” she whimpered out unsteadily, ashamed, her eyes sparkling as she looked up to meet his gaze. She began to cry, and I couldn’t tell if it was frustration, embarrassment, or just the alcohol. The tears stirred him immediately into action. He walked briskly toward her. I could see in that moment that he cared for her deeply, and it seemed she felt the same way. Although there was noise and havoc all around as the frat party progressed behind us, his eyes were focused only on her, as if she were the only thing in the world to him. There was something between them, some unspoken thing, that made it obvious that he was the one who was meant to be with her, the one meant to go back to her place. Not these drunk guys. Certainly not me.
I backed away from her and watched as they embraced one another. She looked up at him, eyebrows raised, as if she were a child looking to him for acceptance or punishment. His eyes looked down to meet hers, and just when I thought I’d witness a kiss that I really didn’t want to see, his lips barely brushed her forehead before his hand pulled her head into his chest. She sighed heavily, and he slowly guided her toward the car, her clumsy gait causing them both to trip. They laughed before he opened the door for her and helped her inside, buckled her seatbelt. He closed her door and leaned over it, staring into her needy eyes, brushing a few hairs out of her face. She put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled his face to hers, but instead of kissing her, he paused momentarily and slowly removed her hand, kissed her palm, and placed it in her lap.
He walked to his side of the car, and as Emi turned to wave goodbye, I caught the boy looking at me once again. He was no older than seventeen, still an awkward teenager. I met his gaze and held it. I imagined he was advising me to keep away from her. My stare was telling him to take good care of her. This was a battle I knew I couldn’t win.
“Would you like another?” the hotel bartender asks as I swirl the ice in the glass of scotch I had ordered to calm my nerves.
“No, thank you.” I knew Chris and Anna would be looking for me soon.
I was affected for months by the kiss I shared with Emi. As time went on, I expected my feelings to wane, but every time I saw the pale green of her eyes, or smelled cinnamon, or heard the song that had been playing in the background, the feelings only intensified.
After I left college to focus on work full-time, I began dating a woman who lived in my building, creating an acceptable distraction. But in the ten years that had passed between our first encounter and this one, I had never experienced such intense feelings for any other woman. I had accepted long ago that Emi was a fantasy, not my reality. I had banished her from my thoughts.
I knew she would be at this party tonight, but I had no idea what the mere sight of her would do to me. I had expected her to be married with children, looking the part of a stay-at-home mom. I had expected her to be unavailable to me, as she was back then. I never expected what I saw tonight.
The woman I saw in that hallway was hardly the same girl I had met. Here she is, ten years later, parading that same breathtaking smile and those green eyes in front of me, but she has an air of confidence about her that I don’t remember from before. She was beautiful back in college, but she is absolutely stunning tonight.
The biggest difference, though, is that tonight, she is alone.
She is alone. I am alone. There was something between us that night in college, even though I had convinced myself that I had created it all in my mind. I know now, in my heart, that there was something there. I have to find out.
The scotch obviously did its job, calming my nerves and giving me a boost of courage. As I walk back to the ballroom, I make slight revisions to the toast in my mind.
When I make my entrance, I immediately see Chris waving me over to him. When I reach them, Anna embraces me warmly.
“I can’t believe how many people are here,” Chris says. “I wasn’t sure we’d be able to break away for the toast! You ready to go on?”
“I am,” I say, confident.
“Let me gather the band,” he says. “Nate!” he yells across the room. A tall man with disheveled, blonde hair joins the group. He looks familiar, maybe just another one of Chris’ college friends.
“Nate, this is Jack,” Chris introduces. “He’s a fraternity brother... and my best man.”
“Nice to meet you,” Nate says, shaking my hand. He looks at me inquisitively, almost confused.
“I’m doing the toast,” I tell him, in case he’s wondering why we
’re being introduced.
“Right. Are we ready?” he asks me.
“I’m ready.”
“Let me get the guys, I’ll be right back.” He leaves momentarily as a waiter stops by to hand us glasses of champagne.
“Congratulations,” I tell them both just before the band takes the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Nate addresses the crowd. “Chris and Anna would like to thank you all for coming out tonight. I believe the best man has a few words to say.”
I walk on stage, taking my place behind the microphone. I clear my throat and scan the room until I find the beautiful woman in the red dress. Again, feeling more alive than ever in her presence, I am determined and confident, and I begin my toast.
“It’s rare that you meet someone who has the power to change the world as you know it. One day, you’re alone, going about your own business, expecting that day to be the same as all the ones before. Most days happen this way. And then, out of the blue, it all changes.”
I make brief eye-contact with Emi and I feel my heart jump. I look away quickly and continue.
“You meet someone that affects you in ways you never even knew were possible. From that day on, no day you live will ever be like the ones that came before. Your future is changed with just one word or one glance... one person that stands apart from all others.”
Again, I look in her direction and notice her cheeks flush as she averts her eyes to the floor.
“Chris called me the day that happened to him. From the moment he literally ran into her on Lexington Avenue, he never thought of another woman. The force of their impact caused her to spill hundreds of fabric swatches from the bags she had been carrying. The breeze on the unusually windy day took many of them into the street, and even though Anna, this woman, urged Chris to let them go, he insisted on stopping traffic to retrieve every last one.”