Authors: Jenna Payne
Casey sat in the bookstore reading his chapter in the anthology of stories about parenthood. Her heart sank when she read how he’d met his wife in Paris while he was there teaching a class in creative writing.
A friend had arranged for them to meet, as they were both lonely Americans in Paris. She’d come walking into the elegant bar with a skirt and a pair of cowboy boots on.
In his chapter, he’d said he’d fallen in love with her immediately.
Shortly after they were married, she’d gotten pregnant and she had the baby in Paris. Finding it difficult to navigate a different healthcare system, they’d moved to Maine shortly after that, where Paul could teach at a nearby university and be close to his beloved ocean.
He was ecstatic, he wrote, at his late and last chance at fatherhood and Casey could tell his daughter meant the world to him.
Casey closed the book and closed the chapter on Paul Neal for good.
He’d found his happiness, something she couldn’t begrudge him for.
But in that moment, Casey Larson realized it was time for her to find her own joy.
*****
When Sarah went off to college, Casey decided that it was time for her to leave Cape Cod. She’d done her duty as a mother—something she felt good about. But she was still young enough to broaden her horizons, maybe even find a broadcast job at a local television station in New York. She was too old to be groomed for national news, but she thought doing local news in the city would be a good compromise.
April was due to graduate in a year. Both she and Robert agreed that she was too far along in high school to leave, but that Casey would alternate weekends, having April take the three-hour train ride to New York, while Casey would come to the Cape on the odd weekends. She’d rent a small apartment on the Cape to serve as a home base.
Casey loved New York and she loved her job even more. It was so wonderful to finally take a slice of life and forge her own adventures. She made new friends at the station, a few who recommended she get a complete makeover and start her life in the city as the new Casey Larson.
She spent her free time visiting museums and galleries and walking through Central Park in all kinds of weather. In some ways, she was trying to make up for lost time.
One day, as she was walking back to her studio from work, she passed a bookstore with a sign out front announcing that best-selling author Paul Neal would be there for a signing that evening.
She stopped dead on the sidewalk, staring at the sign.
Her brain tried different scenarios on for size, trying to decide which felt more comfortable.
Should she keep walking, pretending she never saw the announcement, or should she rush home, put on a chic, casual dress and show up for the signing?
She decided a compromise felt best. She’d go home, freshen up, and then show up at the bookstore, just skirting the edges of the store without committing herself to approaching Paul.
The book signing started at 7:00 and she showed up a half hour late, just to be safe. When she walked in, she found a row of books to hide behind and peeked out through a crack.
She felt ridiculous, but it was wonderful to see him again, still in a scruffy beard and casual clothes, but indeed looking more than a decade older. He was still handsome, she thought, and she could tell by the way he was talking to his fans that he was still gentle and charming.
She opted out of approaching him, but was still glad she got to see him again, if only from behind a stack of books.
She began to make her way back down the long aisle, answering a text to April as she walked. At the end of the row, she saw a pair of shoes in front of her and when she looked up, there stood Paul Neal.
He was grinning in a sweet way.
“You weren’t going to leave without saying hello, were you?” he said.
“Oh my gosh, Paul,” Casey said, stammering for words. She was utterly dumbfounded that she had been caught stalking him in a bookstore. How had he known she was there?
“I saw you walk in,” he said. “How could I not have spotted those infamous blue eyes? I saw you on the news this afternoon, Casey. I knew you were in New York and was hoping you’d stop by to say hello.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t trying to be rude. I guess I wanted to see you again without the drama of approaching you. I feel ridiculous.”
“I want to talk to you,” he said, looking as if it were important to him. “I have a few more hours here. Let’s meet up next door at The Green Door at 10:00. Would that be okay?’
Casey spent two hours walking the streets of the West Side, thinking about their weekend romance, wondering if she really wanted to spend time with him tonight. As silly as it was, her heart had been broken when he’d written her that last letter. Somewhere inside, she knew she wasn’t enough for him. She was a single mother then, living a life of unfulfilled dreams—even somewhat desperate.
But today she was her own person, forging ahead with her plans for her life, no matter how late they had been in coming. She was in her early 40s, and even though she’d put off fulfillment for many years, she felt good about her choices. Her daughters were bright and beautiful and she’d helped them get a good start in life.
She walked into the bar at 10:10, and there was Paul, waiting for her with a beer in front of him. He looked tired but relieved that she’d shown up after all.
“Tell me everything,” he’d said. “I’m dying to hear about your new life.”
Casey recounted the last decade to him, letting him know that she was happy with the way it had all worked out.
“Most important to me were my children,” she explained. “Jackie Kennedy once said that if you screw up raising your children, you can’t be good for much else. I believe that—that if you bring children into the world, it’s your responsibility to turn them into happy, responsible adults. I don’t live a life of guilt now. I put them first and I don’t regret that.”
Paul listened to her thoughts, and admitted that now that he was a father, he had come around to her point of view. He told her he was separated from his second wife and was struggling to see his daughter as much as he would like.
“You don’t live in the same town?” Casey asked, somewhat incredulous.
“No, they’re in Seattle,” Paul said. “I moved back to Northern California. It’s the only place I can write.”
That’s what Casey needed to hear. She’d never gotten to know him enough to see who he truly was. And while she didn’t judge his choices, she realized that they could never have been together. Casey’s priorities were different than his. She couldn’t have lived his life.
“You know,” she said, looking for her purse and getting up from the barstool. “I have an early day tomorrow.”
“How about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked. “I’m going to be in town for a few days.”
“I don’t think so, Paul, but thanks for asking. Let’s just leave it at this: we’ll always have Hurricane Betsy. It was the best weekend of my life so far, but I know that might not always hold true. I still have my whole life ahead of me.”
She walked out into the streets of Manhattan and stood at the corner to flag down a cab. She felt good—for the first time in a very long time. She knew that life was full of surprises and that Paul had come along at a time in her life when she needed to be reminded that she was still beautiful, still worthy of a little magic in her life.
She owed him a debt of gratitude for that. But in that moment, she was even more grateful for having always known who she was.
THE END
I’ve never considered myself to be fashion conscious, but my best friend Travis has a keen eye for what works on my body. I thought that he was gay, but apparently he was just in touch with his feminine side. He didn’t sound gay and I certainly didn’t see him with a male companion. I was just glad that he was living across from me. When I moved into the suburbs it was a little scary and he was right there for a shoulder to lean on. I never really thought that I would be caught dead in a place where mothers walked their children and joggers went by touching their pulse on the side of their neck. I was slowly becoming one of them. I was jogging and that was something that I thought was only for the elderly and athletes.
“I don’t know why you worry about it, Nikki. It’s only your 40
th
birthday and there’s nothing to get all upset about. It’s only a number.” Travis was sitting there on my bed in a pair of gray sweat pants with a white shirt wide open. If I thought that he was any threat, I might have been more cautious about showing him any skin.
I was wearing a red see through slip and nothing else. Most guys would be staring, Travis was different and he thought of me as a little sister. I had thought that he was a catch, but once I realized that he wasn’t interested, I turned that attraction into a friendship that stood the test of time for 10 years.
“You would say that, Travis and you just turned 30.” He was sitting in the Lotus position and he was big with meditation and eastern philosophies. He had told me that he was a Buddhist and he only lived with the bare necessities. I’d been in this house frequently and there wasn’t much there. He had a stocked kitchen, and liked to cook, but his living room had no television and there was a mat on the floor with a candle that was burned out. The only decoration was a couple of little superhero figurines on the bookshelf.
“I’ve always told you that living for the moment makes you age less. It’s the reason why I constantly drag you to places that you wouldn’t normally go. You can’t say that you would have gone to Cuba last year, if I hadn’t twisted your arm and told you that I would go with you. And did we forget about the fiasco of jumping out of the plane together? They had to pry you off the plane floor when they landed, and I was the only that jumped. I still owe you for that one, Nikki.”
“I didn’t call you over here for revisited history. I called you over here for your advice and there isn’t anybody that I know that is better at picking out something for me to wear.” I wasn’t you typical Barbie doll and I had a bit more curves, but nothing that didn’t make the man linger a little bit too long in traffic. I had an hourglass figure and I had to admit that developing when I was young was a bit of an adjustment. Where others were flat chested when they were 13, I was busting out all over the place.
I felt like a bit of a freak, until my English teacher took me under her wing and taught me that boys were just going to be boys. It was the way that I was supposed to react that mattered. She taught me to use what God gave me.
“You could wear a burlap sack and still make it look good, Nikki,” said Travis. “However, if it’s that important to you and you really wanna make a good first impression, then I would go with the red one. It calls attention to your more prominent assets and your green eyes are the perfect color to complement it. I would suggest that you darken your blond locks, but I know that that’s barking up the wrong tree.” I was blond and there were times that I thought about changing it, but I never really thought dark hair suited me. I might’ve been only 5’6, 130 pounds soaking wet, but I had all the guys drooling and all the girls wishing and that they were me.
Travis was lean, but fairly slight in build. I had seen him naked, and his was not unattractive at all. It was kind of disappointing that we were just friends, because the first time seeing his love muscle had told me everything I needed to know and more. Even now, he wasn’t even erect and still I could see his bulge.
I was going out on a business meeting and I always like to use my sexuality to get a better deal. Most of my work was overseas, but there were times that those within this very city were looking for local talent to write their ads. I could produce, write and put it all together in my basement office. I liked the freedom of working at home.
“Nikki, I don’t suppose you’ve heard about the meteor shower tonight? It’s supposed to be quite the sight and I would really like to take it in with my best friend. If you’re back in time, then meet me out in my backyard. I’ll be lying there in my hammock looking at the stars and watching, as those meteors stream over my head.” He was dark-skinned and that came from his Greek heritage. His dark complexion had always fascinated me.
“Travis, I should be back before the meteor shower. I heard that it’s not supposed to start until midnight. If I’m not there, then I guess I’ll have to catch it on television tomorrow.” He followed me downstairs and we both looked at the sky and found it to be quite eerie looking. It was only 6:00 PM and there was this blood-red shade over the sun. I’d never seen anything like it.
“Nikki, that is not something that you see every day. I’m gonna have to rush over to my place and get my camera.” The camera he was talking about was the old school kind that had to be developed in a dark room. “I might even be able to sell one of my shots or make an exhibit out of them.” He was a photographer, but he was a struggling artist and like every struggling artist, he had to take another job, as a bartender just to make ends meet.
I got into my truck. The only reason I’d bought it was because I had grown up as a redneck and I would die a redneck. I was southern through and through and my daddy was a contractor who was always wearing blue jeans with sawdust and grease staining the material. My mother was absent most of my life, though we had just recently rekindled our relationship. It was a long road, but after my father died, we decided to have a long overdue discussion about her cheating ways.
I had no siblings, except for a stepbrother who really only showed up when he wanted money or some place to stay.
Travis was a loner and together, we were like the dynamic duo painting the town red every weekend. He would always know the best places to go and I’d gotten into so much trouble with him that it felt like a common occurrence to have the police knocking on my door. I’ve never been in trouble growing up, except for when I accidentally rolled my father’s truck into the lake. I’d been making out with neighbor boy. I don’t know what it is about my neighbors, but this is the second time I fell for someone that was in close proximity.
“Before you go, I want to remind you that 40 is just a number,” said Travis. “You don’t have to get bent out of shape. You don’t look any older than 25.” He was always stroking my ego and strengthening my self confidence. I do admit that having him in my life has made me feel more centered, more able to tackle the impossible. “If you don’t make it back for the meteor shower, then come over in the morning and we’ll do some meditation exercises. I learned a few more poses for yoga. Better stretch first.” I’d never been into meditation or yoga, but hearing him talking about it had made me curious to at least try it. I found it to be calming, and I had more energy and vitality.
“I don’t know how you get me into these things, Travis. If it was anybody else, I would tell them that I wasn’t interested, but you don’t take no for an answer. You should try that with the ladies. They like a firm hand and we just want to know that the man can protect us. I’ve seen you fight and you and I both know bouncers have nothing on you. I know that you have no interest in women and that your last relationship with Carol burned you quite severely. Don’t let that get you down. It might be time to get back up on the horse. I know for fact that the cute widow down the street has been watching you do your calisthenics out on your lawn. She can’t stop staring. Then again I can’t blame her.”
“You really shouldn’t do that! I hate it when I blush. Just go to your meeting and stop trying to play matchmaker. Like you said, I’m just not ready to get back in the pool. I know that there are other fish in the sea and they’ll be there when I’m ready to cast my line. My mother has been on my back lately to find somebody nice and bring her to Sunday dinner.” There was no point in debating the issue. He wasn’t going to listen and his stubbornness was only going to leave him alone and bitter.
I was driving down the street with my aftermarket muffler making quite the racket. Adults were looking at me and they couldn’t believe that somebody of my age would be driving something like that. Teenagers on the other hand were giving me the high fives and the thumbs up. I was never about conventional thinking, and maybe that’s the reason why my creative side had got me into a career that really was stress-free. Of course, you would always have to mine for new clients, but it was a small price to pay to have nobody breathing down your neck inside a cubicle.
*****
I’d just finished my meeting, and I was going to have to take a taxi home. It had become one of those meetings where we tried to drink each other under the table. The client, a Texan, thought that he could outdo this southern gal, but he soon found out that I was not as dainty as I appeared. I was taking shots of tequila like they were only water and he was already swaying on his feet by the time we got to the fifth one.
“Well, I don’t think I’ve seen a meteor shower like that before,” said the taxi driver. I was in the back of the cab and I was straining my neck out the window to see what the cabbie was seeing. There were these streaks of light, but they were too close. It did not look like what the astronomers had predicted. It looked like it was streaking across the sky and not above the atmosphere. I didn’t see any meteors and these were just different colored lights. They were quite interesting to witness, because it kind of reminded me of the Aurora Borealis coming to life before my eyes.
There was a bright light in the windshield and for a moment I was temporarily blinded. I shielded my eyes. When I opened them there were only spots dancing in front of my vision. I was gripping the back of the seat in the cab and then he turned and I could swear that his whole demeanor had changed.
“Get out,” he said. I wasn’t sure if I heard him right, but then he repeated himself. “Get out… Now!” I wasn’t about to get into a fistfight over a couple blocks and I could certainly walk the rest of the way on my own.
I threw $10.00 into the front seat, but he didn’t seem to care about the money. It was like he could not give a damn about what was making his livelihood.
“You don’t have to look at me like that,” I said. “I’m leaving, but I’m going to send a very curt word to your boss. I think it’s pretty damn rude that you would drop me off, before completing the transaction.” He wasn’t even talking to me anymore, but the eyes staring back at me through his rearview mirror were chilling to the bone.
I opened the door to get out, and I barely had it closed before he was speeding off. He was smashing into cars, like he didn’t know how to drive and the alarms on those cars were now going off and waking up the owners from a dead sleep. I heard people cursing and lights being turned on and people coming out with their car fobs in their hand.
I refused to make eye contact with any of them, in case they thought that I had something to do with it. “What the hell happened to my car?” one of them said. I heard more of the same on my way back home. There was going to be a lot of work for the body shops in town. I decided that this guy had to be reported and I would take my complaint right to the police in the morning.
“Excuse me, but did you see anything?” a man said to me. “You’re the only one on the street, and don’t tell me that you’ve been walking with your face down the entire time.” It was funny, but he was my neighbor and he lived only five houses down from mine. I didn’t know what his name was, and the only person I knew in the neighborhood was the widow down the street, Emily Watkins, and my best friend Travis Montgomery. I don’t know why, but making friends is not easy for me and I don’t put myself out there. Maybe that’s the reason why I was alone on a Friday night. I’m sure that my client would have taken great pride in sleeping with me, but he’d passed out, face down on the table of the club. Thankfully, he had already signed his name to the document.
“I can only tell you that it was a cab and the number was 104,” I said. I went over to him and I wrote down the cab’s license plate and even the company.” He didn’t even thank me and he folded the paper that I had given him and he stormed back into the house. He could’ve at least put something on. Seeing his pot belly and the crack of his ass was not something that I needed to see.
When I got home, the streetlights were flickering like there was a short circuit in the wiring. Suddenly, three bulbs exploded and one was not more than five feet away from me. The showering sparks were quite the light show. I looked at my watch to see that it was 1:00 AM in the morning. I decided to risk it. I went across the street and into the backyard of Travis.
He must’ve been there recently, because the hammock was still swinging. There were no lights on in the house. It was pitch black inside and that was weird, especially since he always leaves the hallway light on.
“Can I help you with something, Nikki?” The voice sounded like him, but there was something different in the tone. If I hadn’t known that it was him, I might’ve been terrified out of my mind. I turned slowly and found him standing there with his hands folded in a defensive posture.
“You almost scared the hell out of me, Travis. You know that I don’t like people surprising me.” He was smirking and I think that’s the first time that I ever saw him look menacing. I think I knew him better than I knew myself sometimes. This was not like him. He seemed cold and distant.