We had Our Time

These were nice girls, nice enough that when they all had dinner together, they grabbed the check from the table in their booth and chipped in to treat Whitney and Chad. Sarah, the blond said, "Whitney joked that we were probably a little jealous that she found a guy to get all lovey-dovey with."

"And we were," Jasmine said, laughing. "But we're also happy for her and you, Chad. She hasn't had something like this in a while."

Whitney corrected her. "I've NEVER had something like this. Long-term relationships, yes. Meeting a guy at a resort and falling so quickly for him, no."

Chad put his arm around her. "Well, neither have I. Jasmine and Sarah, much thanks for dinner. And also for backing me up at the pool today. It was fun. I've never had a chorus of female voices before."

Whitney teared-up, leaned across the table and kissed them both.

*****

"Our last night together," Chad said.

Whitney looked away, trying not to cry. "Yes." She snuggled her naked body next to his naked body on the bed in his room. "I'll miss you like crazy. I'm looking forward to Disney World but I know I'll be thinking of you the whole time."

Chad struggled not to break down himself. "I'll' be seeing you in all the old, familiar places."

"Isn't that a song?"

"It is. My grandparents used to sing it. Anyway, Baltimore is close enough to Philly. I hope you'll miss me enough to want to see me after Florida."

Between kisses, she said, "Are you kidding? I have no doubt."

He had no doubt either about wanting to carry on. She'd be in his thoughts whatever he did, where ever he was. Thoughts of this Whitney had usurped thoughts of the other Whitney, the one he came down here to see and ended up in a another situation, unpredictable, improbable, potentially life-changing.

In the morning, he saw Whitney and her friends off to Orlando. It was a scene out of all those maudlin romance movies--Chad and Whitney standing by her car, tearful, hugging and kissing, not wanting to let go. "I Will see you in all those, old familiar places," she said. They exchanged contact info and then she was off, leaving Chad pondering what to do next.

He had one more day and night left. What would he do with it? What happened with Whitney Chaney was an impossible act to follow. With her gone, he suddenly felt terribly lonely. From the parking lot, with the strong rays of the mid-morning, South Florida sun beating down, he ducked under a shaded spot by the hotel, took out his Apple i-Phone and brought up photos that they had taken on the beach, plus a few that another beach-goer took per their request. Damn, he missed her already.

Then he reached for his wallet and pulled out the old photo of Whitney Lyons, the one he had shown Whitney the younger. Would it hurt if he went through with his original plan? But why would he? He'd just spent an incredible time with a girl he was crazy about. Well, it might give him something potentially interesting to do besides swim and lay in the sun all day. Then there was the curiosity factor. What did she look like, what was she up to and what happened between her and Steve Craig? And, assuming she still lived there and she was home, how would she react when she answered the door?

He pondered all this over a beer and a burger at a nearby bar and grill. He'd either do this crazy thing or leave the next morning. He had no expectations, only possibilities, not all of them particularly pleasant. His thoughts returned to the young Whitney. He knew it was over one-hundred and fifty miles between Orlando and West Palm. Which meant that she and her friends weren't quite there yet. Would she still want to see him when she returned to Philly?

After gulping the last of his Coors from a frosted mug, he paid the check, then headed out. He was dressed for the heat, in a white, V-neck short-sleeve shirt and khaki shorts. The Malibu's AC felt nice. He had his GPS, his online photos of her house, plus his resolve to do this.

He almost shivered with nervous apprehension the closer he got to her area. He could feel his resolve weakening. Maybe he should turn around, lay by the pool and call it a day. So far, it had been a wonderful trip. Why end it on a potentially sour note? Only, according to the GPS, he was just a couple miles away.

He drove on, down a wide secondary route, then a left turn into a side street, then another left turn and then a quick right into her street. 'You are at your destination,' his GPS blurted out. This was the house all right, eyeing the long rancher with the sloping lawn, the driveway and two-car garage.

You could tell it was a Sunday. Cars were parked by the curb and in other driveways, including the blue Honda Accord in hers. He drove by the house to the end of the block, then turned around. Was he really going to do this? He parked on the other side of the street but still wasn't sure. To keep cool, he left the car running, while watching the house. Maybe she'd come out, thus saving him the effort of going up to the door. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. But what was there to gain? He didn't fucking know anymore. Anyway, the Honda might be Steve's car, not hers, because she might not even live there. "Only one way to find out," he said out loud.

He cut the engine and got out. Slowly, almost timidly, he walked up the short slope to her door and stood there. He was about to knock, when he heard a woman's voice coming from the backyard. It was Whitney, no question about it. He could hear her voice in his sleep. It was an octave lower, perhaps, but the rhythm and tone were unmistakable. It sounded like she was on the phone.

He took a deep breath, then took a walkway on the side of the house that led to the back. The closer he got, the more he heard and the more assured he became that he was in the right place. He felt close to exploding with nervous energy.

She WAS on the phone, barefoot and stretched out on a lounge chair on her back deck wearing blue shorts and a sleeveless blue top. She looked up the moment he turned the corner of the house. He made an abrupt stop, watching her eye-popping, jaw-dropping reaction. Her mouth, half-open, looked frozen in time; her eyes took a few moments to blink.

Smiling meekly, he gave a nonchalant wave from his waist, trying to appear casual and relaxed, as if this was no big deal, as if he had dropped by just to say hello. Inside, his stomach roiled with the proverbial butterflies of angst.

"Holy crap!" she cried. "Look, I better call you back." Pause. "No, I'm okay. I think. Bye."

He stood where he was, about forty feet--and over twenty years away.

She stood up and shook her head. "Are you really Chad Houston or just a mirage?"

Hands jammed into his pockets, he said, "No mirage, it's actually me." His tension began to ease. "And you must be Whitney Lyons. So how the hell are you?"

She again shook her head and chuckled. "Chad, you're the only guy I ever knew who would do something like this. If somebody asked me what guy from my distant past would show up unannounced, I'd say, without question, Chad Houston."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's neither. Now come over here and sit down."

His tension fell away, uncoiled like a once tight spring, as he walked across the grass, stepped onto the deck and took a chair facing her lounger. Trying to be discreet, he looked her over. She had put on some weight, perhaps around fifteen pounds. Her hair was still dark brown, styled in a way he'd never seen her wear it--bangs in front, then pulled back in a single braid that dropped just below her shoulders.

Still standing, she said, "I'm going to ask how you tracked me down. But first, would you like a cold drink? Iced tea?"

"Yes, thank you." He watched as she stepped through her sliding glass doors into the kitchen. Her derriere had become wider. No surprise, given her body type. Her eyes were the same, still beautiful. Would Whitney Chaney look like this in twenty years?

"Thanks," he said, when she came back with two tall glasses.

"We have beer, too, if you'd like," she said.

"We?"

"I'm still saying we. Steve and I haven't been divorced that long. He liked his beer and I developed a taste for it also." She eased into her lounger and stretched out her long, tan legs. She'd put some size on them also. "So," she continued, "I guess you googled like crazy to find me."

He nodded. "With the web, privacy isn't so easy to come by. I knew you were divorced also. It took me by surprise."

"Really?"

"Yeah, because you had been married over twenty years, and for some reason I had the impression that you were reasonably happy."

"WERE, WERE happy. Well, reasonably. I was willing to try and work things out but Steve had had enough. I bought his half of the house. We still share our animal rescue business. Business-wise, we get along. We just can't live together anymore."

Whitney had just answered Chad's basic questions; he didn't feel the need to probe further. He changed the subject, telling her about the bike shop and his retirement.

She took a sip of her drink. Then: "Sounds like fun, working at a job you enjoy. I'm not ready to retire. So what about marriage? l assume either you didn't marry or, like me, you're divorced. Either that or you've got a very understanding spouse."

"Divorced like you, married for just three years."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know people our age on their third go-around." Another sip and then: "Should I assume you still live in Maryland?" He nodded. "So what brings you to Florida? I'm sure it's not just to see me."

He grinned, took a few moments to answer. "Actually, Whitney, it is. Or at least it became that after I couldn't get a travel partner."

She drew a look of comic incredulity. "You missed me that much?" she asked, her tone half-tongue-in-cheek.

"We had some great times and I sometimes get nostalgic for those days. I wasn't sure you even still lived here. But here you are."

"Where are you staying?"

"At a Marriott."

"You're not lonely?"

"Well, I--" He stopped at the feel of his phone vibrating. He took it from his pocket to see a text from Whitney: WE JUST GOT IN. MISS YOU LOTS! CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN.

He texted back: MISS YOU TOO. HAVE FUN IN DISNEY WORLD. BE SAFE.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, smiling from ear to ear.

"Someone you're obviously glad to hear from," she said.

"Yeah. You won't believe this..." He told her about meeting another Whitney, one that reminded him of her back in the day, leaving out the intimate details. "She was with two of her girlfriends. They liked my guitar playing. They're now in Orlando."

"I enjoyed your guitar playing, too. I'm glad to see you're still at it. I remember that time in my living room, playing for my parents." Pause. "So how old is this Whitney?" She laughed when he told her. "Wow! A chick that goes for older men. Well, you still look great, don't look your age at all. You still have all your hair. No need to ask if you're still exercising. You were obsessive about that. I walk, even jog a little around the neighborhood. But not enough, I guess."

"You're still very pretty," he said, and meant it.

She patted her thighs. "Thanks. If only I could slim down these a little."

"Too much beer?"

She threw back her head and laughed. "No, too many solid carbs and sitting on my fat arse more than I should." She paused to shake the ice around in her glass. "You know, Chad, I also sometimes pine for those days, those young, care-free days. You're right, we had some great times. Those wild times in my bedroom, trying on those sexy outfits for you. It drove you wild." She leaned forward and peppered his leg with love pats.

"That's for sure!"

"And ohmygod, that trip to California, one of my best vacations ever. Maybe thee best."

"Yep, mine, too." And this vacation, thanks to Whitney the younger, was up there also. But he knew better than to say that.

"So how long are you here for?"

"Leaving tomorrow."

"Oh." She looked away, obviously disappointed but trying not to show it.

"Why?"

"Well, I was just thinking that if you had a longer stay, we could hang out."

Hang out could mean anything, but he was fairly certain what she had in mind. Of course, he could always extend his stay. Did he want to? Maybe. He did know that if his thing with the other Whitney had never happened, he would have dropped by here sooner, what he intended to do in the first place, and his vacation would have taken a different turn. But he got sidetracked. Oh, did he ever, and what a wonderful sidetrack it was, and one that could possibly lead to a rendezvous in Philly in the not too distant future.

She could see him thinking about it. "But, if you've got to get back, I understand."

He didn't HAVE to get back; he had more time. This was fucking unbelievable. Chad now had a chance to do what he came here for, to recapture a piece of the good old days of his youth, to spend time with one of those special people who made that time so good. Except he knew that those times could never be fully recaptured. People change, circumstances change. He and Whitney weren't totally different people but they weren't the way they were, either. He could "hang out" with her the next few days for old time's sake, whatever that really meant. Tempting, yes, but these weren't old times. These were new times and he had just met someone who he felt could bring lots of joy to this period in his life. She was young and smart and pretty, and she lived only a couple hours from him.

Putting the decision aside for a moment, he took out that twenty-eight-year-old beach photo of him and Whitney. "Remember this?"

She took it from his hand, then examined it like a rare historical document. "Ohmygod! Yes, I remember it. Santa Monica beach during our California trip. Geeze, I'd never be able to fit inside that swim suit now. Slowly, she shook her head, staring at the photo before giving it back. She pawed at her eyes and blinked, trying to stop the tears that began to fall.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Up from his chair, Chad stepped behind and began to rub her shoulders.

She swung her legs off the lounger, stood up and faced him. "I know you didn't. I've been in a fragile emotional state ever since Steve filed for divorce. I'm still a strong woman but it doesn't take much to make me cry these days."

"Would a hug help?"

"Oh, would it ever."

That hug, as Chad expected--and wanted--evolved into something more, wandering hands and passionate smooching. It was as if he was making up for lost time, making up for all those years they'd been apart, plus all those dreams about Whitney Lyons, dreams where he awoke frustrated from trying and failing to get her back. Finally, here she was, real and alive and nestled in his arms, elusive no more.

"That was wonderful," she said when they decoupled. "Something I've needed for quite some time but didn't know how much until this moment." She reached under his shirt and pawed at his solid chest. "Are you sure you can't stay a while longer? You can check-out of the Marriott and check-in here. Free of charge and with benefits I doubt the Marriott provides."

He heard in what she just said an echo from years past. In her bedroom, when it got way past midnight and he longed for sleep, she'd plead with him not to go home. It became a game; he'd start to go and she'd scissor his body on her bed until her legs became too weary to continue.

"Whitney, that sounds--″ His cell went off, a call this time, not a text. "Excuse me," he said, then stepped off the deck. "Hi Whitney, what's going on?"

"We just checked into the Hyatt Regency Grand Cypress. Kind of fancy but reasonably priced. Are you around the pool, serenading another group of girls?"

"Ha ha. Not quite. Maybe I'll do that later. Miss you."

"I hope so because I miss you, too. Wish you could share this with me. Wait, Jasmine and Sarah want to say hi."

"Hi Chad," he heard, almost in unison.

"Hi girls. Hope you're having fun."

Whitney got back on. "We are having fun, Chad, but it would be so much better if you could share it with me. But I know you're leaving tomorrow. Well, gotta go. I'll send you some pics later."

Chad stepped back onto the deck. "The other Whitney," he said. "She called from Orlando."

Whitney folded her arms against her chest. "Yeah, I heard. Chad, maybe it's none of my business, but did you get involved with this girl? I mean in more ways than just playing your guitar and going to the beach."

He nodded. "By involved, I'd guess you mean emotionally and in other ways."

"That's what I mean, yes." She unfolded her arms, reached down and took another sip. "Look, you don't have to tell me anything. Like I said, none of my business."

"No, that's okay, it's no great secret Truthfully, we did get involved in that way, much to my surprise. I mean, what were the odds of that happening given the age difference and situation? In fact, we have tentative plans to get together after she returns from Florida. She and her friends live in the Philly area."

"Hmm...so, if I'm hearing right, this wasn't just some hotel, away-from-home, one-night stand. It sounds like you and this girl might have some kind of future together. True?"

"True, although I'm not naïve. Summer romances, if that's what you call it, normally don't endure very long."

"But it sounds like you'd like Whitney to be an exception in your case. Also true?"

"Also true."

She sighed and shook her head. "You know, it really shouldn't bother me. We live in different states, over a thousand miles away. And speaking of naive, I'm not naive enough to think we could rekindle what we had years ago. It didn't last beyond two years then. Now, it would most likely end when you leave for home. Plus, you have your mind on another woman, one you hope to see for a while. I'd give that a chance. She sounds like a nice girl. I mean, her name IS Whitney."

That got a chuckle out of him.

She stepped over, wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned in for a quick kiss.

"Look, I'm touched that you came to see me. And I can't deny that I'd like more of those tender hugs and hot kisses, not to mention other things. But, in my fragile emotional state, I'd end up getting hurt, a thousand miles away or not. Sometimes it's best to let bygones be bygones. As Steve said to me shortly before he left, 'we had our time.' Maybe if things work out, this will be yours and Whitney's time."

He knew she was right. He also knew he'd like nothing better than to take her into his arms and give her more of those tender hugs, hot kisses and other things. But, he had too much respect for her to push the issue. Sometimes, it was best to quell desires and, as she said, let bygones be bygones.

When she walked him to his car, he said, "I'd like to keep in touch through email or phone or both. I know you're not on Facebook. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely. Let's keep in touch. And good luck with Whitney. Let me know what happens. You can even include some salacious details. And knowing you, Chad Houston, you probably will."

They both laughed, then kissed goodbye. In his rear-view, he saw her wave. Would he ever see Whitney Lyons again? Not really a question to ponder. Just curious.

Driving back to the hotel, he got ideas about extending his vacation. He'd check out of the Marriott, then drive to Orlando. Whitney sounded sincere in wanting to be with him. However, would Jasmine and Sarah really go for that? They were good sports about the relationship in West Palm but monopolizing their friend's time again in Disney World might be too much. It made more sense to return to Maryland as scheduled, then wait until she returned from Florida.

The loneliness that had gripped him when Whitney left, lifted during his visit with Whitney Lyons, came on again when he returned to the Marriott. His guitar had been his solace during blue moments like this. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to play another song he learned years ago: