Left to Wonder...For Twenty Years

"Obviously, you thought wrong." He leans forward, reaches out and pulls her toward him. Then he kisses her. "I always liked you for all the reasons you just read before our class. My words were sincere. Why didn't I say something at the time? Well, believe it or not, I was shy in ways also. Remember, even by sixth grade, it was still somewhat embarrassing for a boy to admit that he liked a girl. Not cool. He'd get teased by other boys. It was different for you girls. Emotionally, you matured quicker. After Wellwood, we went on to different schools and that was that."

"And I was left to wonder over two decades about the secret admirer who sent me such a beautiful valentine, 'wondering what comes next and where it's all leading.' Your words. And by the way, Mark, what DOES come next? For us, I mean, because I'll be honest, I'd rather not wait another twenty years before I see you again. If you're available."

Mark slides closer to where he's almost on top of the center console. "I'm available, especially right now on this warm spring day inside this car where I'd like nothing better than to do something that I've felt compelled to do ever since you got up to read my poem."

She reaches out to meet his embrace and then proceeds to fulfill a desire she harbored back when she didn't even know how to kiss, much less what she's doing now, smooching passionately with Mark Cooper. She loves the feel of his lips against hers and his silky, thick mane of hair on her fingers, not to mention the erotic scent of his aftershave. "Are you wearing Black Orchid?"

He chuckles. "Looks like I'm with an experienced woman here."

"Not really. But I do remember scents. And something else, like boy, do I remember wanting to do something like this with you back in the day, Mark Cooper."

"And does it meet your expectations?"

"Um, it's okay." She struggles to keep a straight face watching his surprised, taken aback grimace. Then she breaks into a wide grin. "Just kidding, Mark. Yes, it meets my expectations, even exceeds them. You're a terrific kisser. You know, I knew you for an entire school year, and yet now, doing this, it's like meeting you for the first time."

"Pardon the cliché, but that was in a different life. We were on the cusp of puberty. And now I get the feeling that we're on the cusp of something else, something that my gut tells me might well take us into next Valentine's Day."

"You'll write me another poem?"

"Sure, if you'd like. And this time you'll know right away who it's from. No more waiting another twenty years."

"Man, I hope not. Now, can we get back to what we were doing?'

"I'd like nothing better."

*****

Fast forward nine months. It's Thursday night, Valentine's Day eve, 2020. The light snow that began earlier is tapering off. Kimber, as she's done so many times for the past several months, is staying over Mark's two-bedroom apartment. Tomorrow, she'll take off work to celebrate what she considers a very special Valentine's Day. Mark's "gut" had been right—he and Kimber had been on the cusp of something else, something that allows them to lie naked in his bed, close and uninhibited. Life is good. The sex is good. At times, more than good: fantastic. In her opinion, subjective though it might be, Mark is a terrific lover. In build, he's an anomaly to the athletic muscular types of some of her former boyfriends. No bulging biceps, gladiator pecs or six-pack abs on this guy. Just a well-proportioned dude with an "average" physique. But boy can he deliver the goods! He's tender and loving, even raunchy when she wants him to be. Plus, what stamina, what staying power on a given night, and tonight is one of those nights when time seems to stand still, where the sweet scent of sex fills the room and where her purpose in life is simply to please and be pleased, to have and to hold, to love and be loved.

When morning comes, before breakfast, she and Mark sit up against the wall at the head of the bed. He hands her a Hallmark valentine's card with minimal writing. The rest is all Mark's words, printed in black ink for an easy read. As promised, he wrote her a poem, and he wants her to read it. Aloud. "I hope you're not nervous like last time," he teases.

"I'll try not to cry," she says. "But, no promises. You write so beautifully." She clears her throat.

"Mere children we were, way back in sixth grade

Some memories stick, while others fade

"But if there is one I shall never forget

It's a girl named Kimber, Kimber Bessette

"She was left to wonder who sent her that greeting

Two decades in fact, two decades of needing

"To know which boy had dropped her that card

Turns out he was shy, always on guard

"Then at the reunion and somewhat abrupt

He finally confessed, he finally stood up

"Recited a line, a line he had written

About the girl to whom he was smitten

"It didn't take long, no prodding, no shove

To finally admit he had fallen in love"

Mark holds her while she wipes her eyes. "Well, at least you got through it with no interruptions. I love you, Kimby."

"I love you too, Mark. That was beautiful. My boyfriend's a poet and I damn well know it."

"Nah, just a hard-boiled free-lancer. Believe it or not, I've written just two poems in my life, this and the one I wrote on your valentine in Mrs. Richmond's class. If not for you, I'd have none to show. You always inspire me, don't you know? Oh gawd, I'm getting carried away."

"That's okay, I hope you can always get carried away with me." She kisses his neck while sliding her hand up and down his hairy right thigh. "Maybe they'll be a thirty-year Wellwood reunion in 2029. That would be cool, especially if we can go as..." She closes her mouth, shakes her head. No, she's not going to go there, not going to say something that could spoil this moment. Mark's been there, done that, and he's given her no indication that he wants to go there again.

He gives her a comforting hug. "Go as...don't be shy," he insists, "say what you'd like. We've always been candid with one other."

"It's nothing. I was just thinking silly thoughts." Now she's thinking she better change the subject. "Look, let's drive up to Hershey today, see where all those chocolate kisses get made. We'll pick up a box of them and then do some chocolate kissing of our own. I'll even drive."

He nods. "Great idea. And then we can also find a nice restaurant to celebrate. And not just Valentine's Day."

"To celebrate...what?" She narrows her eyes, curious and clueless. "Our birthdays are months down the road."

Mark opens the drawer of his night table and pulls out a small white case. Then he opens it. "To celebrate this."

Chestnut eyes bulging, hands over her mouth, she stares at the glittering rock lodged in felt. "Now I really am going to cry. Ohmygod...I hardly expected...ohmygod...Oh, Mark, you shouldn't have...I, I, mean you should have...Oh Jesus, listen to me, I'm a mess..."

He laughs. "I know you didn't expect it. That's part of the fun. Now for the business at hand."

On one knee, Mark kneels on the floor on the side of the bed and looks up. "Kimber, you've filled a void in my life that I had doubted could ever be filled again. These past nine months have been among the happiest I've ever known. We've laughed and cried together, shared an intimacy that I've craved to share with a woman for a long time, and I look toward a future that would be empty, perhaps even bleak without you in it. You've enhanced my life in ways I never thought possible, and I can only hope that I've done the same for you. So, not being one for long, mushy speeches, I'll get to the point. Kimber Bessette, will you marry me?"

She manages to say yes, chocking back sobs of joy and then falling into Mark's arms.

*****

Driving north on I-83 behind the wheel of her Nissan on the way to Hershey, Kimber says, "In the nine months we've been together, Mark Cooper, I've learned that you're a man of surprises. But today you've outdone yourself." Briefly, she glances sideways to see his reaction.

He reaches out and pats her on her on one of her jean-covered thighs. "I'm kind of surprised myself. You know about my ill-fated marriage, a short but painful period in my life. I vowed never to take the plunge again. Then you came along."

"Never say never, as they say."

"Yeah, I've heard that one, too. But I didn't count on falling in love again, least of all with someone from my distant past. Life has its share of unexpected turns and detours."

"That's for sure." Kimber grins, thinking again about another Wellwood reunion in ten years, thinking that perhaps her idea of showing up with Mark wasn't so silly after all.