Calendar

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One day about the middle of July I found a letter in my drop box asking if I could meet Jennie the next day around noon. I was there at 10 o'clock waiting for her.

The old Pontiac drove up and parked across the street and Jennie jumped out and ran across the street ahead of a passing car.

Her hair was shorter, her eyes were brighter and her smile was genuine. I made some tea as she walked back into the studio. When the tea was made I followed her, catching her standing in the fake doorway, leaning against the door jam with her head back and her eyes closed. She opened them when she heard me, and smiled.

"I'm leaving for Lousiana today," she said, taking the tea from my hand. "I wanted to come by and tell you 'Thanks,' one more time . . . and to say, 'Good-bye.'"

I was glad; and I was sad. She had changed a great deal. Before she was a shell; now she was a woman!

"I'll be staying with Mom and Dad," she continued. "I'm going to get my GED and a job and they are going to help me go to junior college." She stopped then, watching me carefully.

"You're sad, I think," she said, frowning slightly. "I thought you would be glad."

I came out of the funk her words had put me into. I had always hoped she would leave her husband and come to me. So much for fantasies.

"No, Jenny, I am happy for you," I said. "I am just wondering about how your husband is going to handle this."

"Oh, we are getting divorced," she said lightly. "He wants to marry someone who will give him children; I just wasn't able to do that. I get the old car and my freedom and he gets everything else."

I took her hands and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"Then I am extremely happy for you," I replied.

"I wasn't sure you would even remember me," she said, looking at me sideways to see my reaction. I just took her by the hand and led her out to my desk. Then I opened the closet door beside the desk. Taped to the inside of the door was a full-length photo of her leaning against the door jam, totally naked and smiling gently at me. She walked over and studied the picture carefully before turning back to me.

"I hope you don't mind," I said. She shook her head.

"You didn't take the scars off," she said softly. "Weren't you able?"

I tipped her head up and smiled into her eyes.

"I could have, but I wanted it to be the real you," I replied.

Then she reached up with her left hand, running it along my cheek and around to the back of my neck, pulling me down to her. She gave me a slow, warm kiss, her lips slightly parted, then stepped back, but not before stroking my cheek once more.

"I know this may seem weird, but you could stay here with me and not have to go to Louisiana," I started hopefully, but stopped when I read her eyes. It couldn't happen.

She kissed me once more, quickly, and then walked around to the front of the counter.

"Can I get you at one of these numbers any time?" she asked, picking up one of my new business cards.

"The cell phone number," I said, nodding. "At least any time I am not out tramping in the woods.

"Thank you for being my friend, Cal," she said. "Right now that is all I need. And I may call you from time to time to keep that friendship alive."

I nodded, smiling, not trusting myself to think beyond that reality.

She walked to the door and stopped, turning around for one last wave.

"If the day ever comes that I need more than a friend, I'll call you if you want me to," she said, watching me closely.

"I would like that," I said. "Will I be at the top of the list?"

She gave me a smile that was so different from the first time I saw her.

"You're the only one on the list, Mister!"

And with that she skipped to the old Pontiac, and gave one last wave as she drove down the street.