A Moments Passing

It had been forever since I saw Kerry, but it was a moment’s passing on the street that brought it all back to reality.  We met in elementary school, dated through middle school and parted ways in high school.  I never forgot her dirty blonde hair, her deep brown eyes, and the freckles on her face that made her tomboy cute.  In middle school, she began to blossom into a young woman with curves in all the right places.  And the few times we saw each other during our high school years, she was nothing short of radiant.  Her long hair even longer, draped over her shoulders.  Slightly taller than me gave me a perfect opportunity to have an excellent view of her ample breasts, which had grown nicely since middle school.  Her athletic form, held up by a perfectly shaped pair of legs, which fit into a pair of jeans like they were painted on.  And a pair of tennis shoes, all the rage in those days.  That was the last painted picture of her the summer I graduated high school.  Until today.

Had it not been for a crowded sidewalk, we would have never bumped into each other, but that’s all it took to bring me back to the good old days.  “Kerry, is that you?” asking with trepidation.

Turning for a brief moment, she paused and stared at me and said, “Yes, my name is Kerry.”  Stopping for another second, it seemed like a bolt of lightning hit her.  “Steve, is that you?”  A smile completely took over her face.  Realizing that it took her a second to recognize me without hair (I shave my head now, it beats going bald.) we greeted each other like we’d seen each other only yesterday.  Firm hugs made me quiver with memories of days long gone.  The freckled face girl I dated on and off through my school-age years, now a full grown woman wearing a dark business suit, suitcase tossed over her shoulder and heels.  Her hair still long, flowing and blonde kept annoyingly blowing in her face as we dodged people and the breeze between the large city office buildings. 

As fate would have it, she was in town for a few days at a conference.  My hopes were dashed however when she told me her husband were here as well, visiting relatives at the same time while she was in business meetings.  For a moment I was hurt – who would have thought Kerry would have gotten married?  Selfishly, I thought she might have waited her whole life for me to find her and sweep her off her feet.  I was snapped back to reality with Kerry handing me her business card and hearing an invitation to go to dinner tonight.  Figuring she was being polite, I accepted, and also accepted the fact that her husband would be coming along and I’d be the third jealous wheel.  She told me to call her cell phone around six and we’d make plans from there.  We left each other, on the street; the last feeling was her hand in mine, and a soft kiss on the cheek.

You could have blown me over with a feather at that point.  I was higher than Cloud Nine, I was in heaven.  Then reality hit.  A small voice in my brain woke me out of my dream.  “She’s married you moron!” I kept hearing inside of me. 

Yet there was another voice, almost a child-like voice.  “She’s still so beautiful.”  All the way home, I kept playing back the last moments on that sidewalk, touching her soft hands, feeling her soft hair on my face as she leaned over to kiss me goodbye.  I was determined to make the most of tonight, husband or not.

I made the phone call and we met about an hour later.  Kerry had time to get out of the stuffy business suit and switch to a blazer, a white tee shirt and yes, a perfectly form-fitting, not-too-tight-in-all-the-right-places pair of blue jeans, and a pair of sneakers.  I was waiting to wake up from the dream, as I walked over to her in the hotel lobby.  But it got better.

“Nope, Chuck won’t be joining us.  He’s not even in town.  He’s staying at his mom’s tonight.”, she announced when I asked her where her husband was.  “We don’t get back to the area too often, so when he does, he likes to spend some time with his family.  I go to the conference and usually work my ass off, and he gets to see some relatives and some old friends,” she said.  Come to find out, Kerry became an attorney.  An intellectual property attorney at that.  Apparently she’s a pretty damn good one because she was a presented at this year’s conference.

“Don’t you have a ton of prepping to do for tomorrow,” I naively asked.

Walking out into the warm, summer air, she simply replied, “You don’t get a chance like this very often, if ever.  I missed out on telling you a lot of things when we were younger; I’m not missing my chance again.”

We drove to our old hometown, and in the hour-long drive, we caught up on everything possible.  We talked about what we did after high school, where we are in life, how she met Chuck in college, their marriage – the conversation was never ending.  Over dinner, we continued talking – we were both like broken faucets, you couldn’t shut us off if you wanted to.  I didn’t want to.  We were laughing over stories of school, old friends, and being teen agers.  We were crying, once she divulged that she was in a loveless marriage and stayed together only because there was no other alternative.  And I was enthralled to hear this once freckled faced girl talk to me about technology and some of the inner workings of law.  For most of the evening, she turned on my mind.

I found myself stretching out dinner, not wanting the evening to end.  I made every effort to make this night last forever, because this time, I wasn’t letting her go.  I refused to let her go.  So we made our way to the waterfront, where I took the bold initiative of reaching for her hand, hoping upon hope that she wouldn’t rebuke my advances.  She didn’t.  When she squeezed my hand, she turned her head and softly looked at me through her blonde hair.  And I had to know.  “What did you mean by missing out on telling me when we were kids?”

Looking at me, realizing she had said something intimate, she let go of my hand for a moment and turned towards me.  “For starters,” she made a fist and punched me square in the arm.

Not expecting the shot, I fell back a bit, almost losing my balance into the river.  Coming to catch me, she chuckled, seeing the error of her ways or at least the lack of knowing her own strength.  Once I regained my composure, I retorted, “What the hell was that for?”

“That’s for dating Renee Silva,” she chirped back.  “What the hell were you thinking?  You knew we hated each other!”

Rubbing my upper arm, I fired back, “That was the 5th grade Kerry!  Are you still pissed about that?”

“Well, no.  But I do regret a lot of things.  Like leading you on, like breaking up with you a hundred times, only to have you take me back again.  Like not telling you that I admired your spirit and effort, even after I moved away.  Like never telling you that I wanted you to be my first.” 

That one floored me.  Stopping in my tracks, I had to ask, “You mean first first?”

Rolling her eyes and breaking the mood she quipped, “Is there another first?”  Surrendering, she added, “Steve, you have always had a place in my head and heart.  No matter where I went, I always wondered where you were.”  Adding to her confession, she confided, “For a while there, I followed your career like a groupie, wondering what you were going to do next, all the while, steering clear, not knowing what you’d think of me.”

Stunned, I turned her towards me and held her hands in mine.  “Think of you,” I asked.  Feeling my emotions building, I replied, “You have grown up to be an amazingly stunning woman, a professional in her field, and someone I wish I hadn’t let go of back in high school.”  I gently let her hands go, and moved my hands around her back for a well-deserved and much needed hug.  Not a sexual hug, but more than 15 years of frustrations all built up into one hug.  Realizing that the same person with whom I admired actually admired me as well.  Indeed, a strange coincidence.

And then it happened.  Slowly, we broke away from the hug, and as if time moved in slow motion, her hair covered her face as she tilted her head down, encasing my face in her hair as we both gently embraced.  The last view I saw for what seemed an eternity was her large brown eyes, welled up, softly closing and releasing a gentle tear as we kissed for the first time in 15 years.  Her soft lips gently pursed mine, barely touching yet caused a groundswell of emotion between us.  The soft passionate kiss continued for what seemed to be an eternity, until the sounds of footsteps on the boardwalk broke us from the fantasy-like embrace.  When we looked up, we saw an older couple, walking arm and arm, she taller than him, both smiling as if they knew what we were feeling.  As they walked by, I noticed that they snuggled a little closer, embracing each other a little more tightly.  Looking up at Kerry, no words were needed.  We wrapped our arms and walked back to the car, silently, until we returned to the car, where she asked to drive.  Thinking it was an odd request, I relented, only to realize she had a destination in mind.  That was the beach.

More specifically, a little motel along the beach with seaside views.  Despite the fact it was summer, there were few cars in the lot when we pulled in.  As we parked, she handed me back the keys to the car and for a moment I held her hand and asked, “Are you sure about this Kerry?  You’ve got a lot more to lose in something like this than I do.”

Looking up from the steering wheel, she paused, then softly spoke, “I’ve never been so sure of a decision in my life.”

With that we went into the motel office, and rented a room as a couple, which had an interesting ring to it.  One room left with a beach front view.  As we unlocked the door and entered the room, our lives changed forever.  Was it the passion?  Was it the unadulterated sex?  Was it lovemaking?  It was all that and more.  There were moments of unbridled, wanton lust.  At time we were like animals rutting, sure to cause a stir with motel management.  Other times, a field mouse would have been louder as we were engrossed in each other in some of the most intimate moments senses were made for.  Once we were spent, we showered together, gently caressing each other’s naked bodies clean of the evening’s adulterous acts.

Wanting to take in the midnight sea air, I ventured out on to the patio that faced the ocean, listening to the waves crash against the shore.  As I sat and realized my ultimate fantasy would end when the sun rose, Kerry came outside, covered only in a blanket from the motel bed that was haphazardly strewn during our evenings escapades.  She climbed on the lounger with me, snuggling up against my chest.  Feeling her breath ruffling the hair on my chest was the last feeling I had until the sun woke us both in the same position the next morning.

A few phone calls to the event organizer confirmed that Kerry could move her speech up to a later point in the day, allowing her the time to get back to her hotel and prepare.  We barely said a word, until I dropped her off at the hotel.  As she was about to get out, I said the first thing that came to my mind.  “Kerry, I want to thank you for an amazing evening.”

“Please don’t thank me,” she replied.  With tears welling up in her eyes, she looked forward, “We’re right back where we were before.  Again, we meet up, have an amazing time, and then we have to leave.  I’m getting sick of doing this.  I’m sorry I did this to you again.”  Without hesitation and without looking back, she left the car and my life one more time.

Do I chase after her?  And make a scene at the hotel where she was giving a keynote luncheon speech?  Who knows who was outside?  We were taking chances enough being out front together, let alone try and chase her down. So I left.  Empty yet fulfilled.  I finally got the chance to be with my first true love.  It was a moment I would never forget.

As I drove away, the reality began to sink in.  I called into work that day, being a Friday, I figured it would be a great long weekend to analyze my situation and relive the finite moments of the previous evening.  The day off didn’t help.  And the next day didn’t help either.  I was once again feeling like I did back as a teen ager: rejected by the one person I had so many emotions for. 

Sunday came, and I began to dig out of my funk.  I read the paper, putted around the house and watched a ball game, interrupted by the sound of the door bell ringing.  Looking down, I first noticed a pair of tennis shoes, a perfectly form-fitting pair of jeans, and a well worn grey athletic t-shirt, tucked in at the waist.  In the hand was a duffle bag.  At my door, was Kerry.

Red faced, eyes filled with tears again, Kerry looked at me and said, “I’m getting sick of doing this.  I promise I won’t ever do it again, if you’ll just take me as I am.”  Quickly taking her bag and asking her in, she revealed that she and Chuck had a fight, where it was revealed that he was having an affair with someone they both went to school with.  They would meet up once a year when they went to Kerry’s conference.  He wanted a divorce.

Kerry would never leave me again.