31. Laurie Decades later - Oo-La-La
Chapter thirty-one
Laurie Decades later - Oo-La-La
E die finally decided she had to get a computer and learn to use it. Technology was moving so fast that she knew she’d have to learn the basics of computer work. She took a few classes at the local Junior College and learned just enough to be dangerous. She searched sites to become familiar with how this new thing worked. One evening she noticed an email from Classmates, an internet-based site connecting people who had dropped off one’s radar, and offered a chance to reconnect if desired. She clicked out of curiosity thinking it was just an ad. She was mistaken and opening that email was life-changing.
More than three decades earlier before she had lived a dozen lives, died a thousand deaths, loved a hundred men, and struggled to breathe, she had been heartbroken by Laurie, that delicious French Canadian in the cashmere sweater. As a teen, she had fantasized about their “happily ever after” life together, but that didn’t happen. He walked away; with no apology, no explanation, and no proof of life. He was just gone. For years, during her lows (of which there were many) she journaled about him and the love she thought they had shared. She thought he no longer lived because how could he have just disappeared?
The email through Classmates read: I’ve been trying to find you for years. This is Laurie from Canada. You probably don’t remember me but I still carry a picture of you in my wallet. I hope you will respond.
She had to dig deep in that Hope Chest of hers to find, and bring to life, the crushing memories of Laurie though he was like a fine silk thread that was a part of the garment she hoped she would wear one day. Memories flooded her of the promises they had made to each other so many lifetimes ago. She believed he was her first true love, the one she had daydreamed would meet her at the altar one day to say, “I do.”
She answered his email, thinking it was a fluke but then they talked on the phone. She remembered his voice, his accent, and the hesitation when he tried to think of the right English word since French was his first language. She said she should have devoured him like a cheetah eating an elk. She should have said, “Who the hell are you? No, I don’t remember you.” But she didn’t. You’re shaking your head again, aren’t you? She’s a gambler by nature. Take a risk, there might be something better in that box, a few more pulls on the slot machine and she could win the jackpot. Yeah, she was that girl and at forty-nine, she was still ready to ride the wave, poke the bull, or do whatever it took to see what was around the next corner. What a rush!
“Edie, no,” I said. “Please listen to me this one time in your life. You don’t know him. He might not even be Laurie. It could be a sham. Don’t fall for his sweet words. You did that before and he left you with a broken heart.”
“Jenny, come on. You know me better than that. I have to see; I have to check it out. Maybe he’s my destiny. He may be the man that was meant for me. I’ll never know until I see him.”
That girlfriend of mine is one for the books. She just keeps putting herself out there and I suppose she always will. I’ve been fortunate enough to have a husband who has stayed with me and the kids despite how crazy I can be sometimes. I always blame my craziness on Edie and he just smiles because he knows me better than anyone. Edie is the only one who knows the real me, the girl I used to be who led Edie down the rabbit hole many times. But, that’s a story for another time…or not. Let’s get back to Laurie.
A week later Edie was on a plane heading to Nova Scotia to meet this man who, in reality, was a total stranger, but in her memory, a lover, the man she wished she had lost her virginity to. They had become different people than they were so many years earlier; they were just senseless kids having fun with few cares in the world.
She is now a terrified flyer so as she sat white-knuckled, she hoped her instincts were right and this trip would be worth the drama. Wondering if there might still be a smoldering ember when they look into each other’s eyes, her pulse beat too fast. She isn’t a vibrant carefree teenager; she’s a woman with a few extra pounds and she wears the heartaches, and love of life, in the tiny wrinkles around her eyes. This trip is a chaotic fast forward, like high-speed photography and the shock may be too much for one or both of them.
She tries to keep her emotions in check and convince herself this is only a reunion of two old friends. She consciously reminds herself of that fact but somewhere in the tender folds of her throbbing heart, there is more hope than she is willing to admit. This is a way to settle the uncertainty of how their relationship ended- that’s it. Yep, she is going with that. She put on her metaphoric Dick Tracy hat to find out why he left. She’ll sleuth him out.
As the plane touches down, she feels woozy and weak hoping she hasn’t made a terrible mistake. She will know in a moment. She hopes to get a quick glimpse of Laurie before he sees her but she doesn’t see anyone who looks like her mental snapshot of him. He probably saw her, changed his mind, and this was a cruel joke. As she walks into the terminal, she attempts to look casually around, trying to keep from bursting into tears at being so gullible. She isn’t sure she could face what they might have discovered anyway. She will just go home and this dream will be put to rest.
As she begins talking to a ticket agent to book her return flight, two arms envelop her from behind and his soft beard nuzzles her neck. She sucks in a breath as he whispers in her ear. “You are not the beautiful girl I abandoned thirty years ago.” She chokes but can’t speak. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen who has finally come home to me.” The ticket agent winks at her and says, “I doubt you’ll be needing this ticket.”
She turns to see his eyes filled with tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks. She gently places her fingertips on his face to wipe them away. He kisses her hand. Neither of them speak as his lips found hers in the gentlest kiss of her life. He took her bag, held her hand, and said, “Let’s go home, honey.”
The next three days were a blur. You know the saying about not remembering what someone said, but remembering how they made you feel? That was the fantasy she lived. She almost forgot who she was. It was a time of complete renewal, rebirth, rejuvenation, and hope. The only thing she loved more than looking at him was touching him, breathing him in, and protecting him inside her heart. He had been so thin as a young man but he had filled out perfectly. His hair was still full with silvery streaks matching his soft beard. His lovely French accent was familiar and sensual and made her wish she had spent more time learning his language.
Through the years he wrote letters to her that were undeliverable but, like Edie, he never lost the feelings that they shared. He opened a small metal box containing folded yellowing pages he had written and saved for thirty years. The first letter follows.
The fire flickered and crackled as she listened to his letter; he read barely above a whisper with his eyes damp with regret. The emotion welling in her soul brought back the heartache his leaving had caused her. When she spoke, she couldn’t hold back the flood of blame she heaped on him. “You walked out!” she screamed. “You left me without a word. My life could have been completely different if you had just told me. Why? Why couldn’t you have told me? “ She couldn’t hold back the sobs, couldn’t catch her breath, and couldn’t push his arms away that reached for her. Nothing could change the past. No time machine could zap them back to that moment to change the lives they had lived without each other for thirty years. She had to accept the reality of it and be in the present or walk away. She wasn’t ready to walk away.
It was late spring so a chill still hung in the air in Nova Scotia. The sun was brilliant, the air clean as they walked his sixty acres, hand in hand, arm in arm. They sang to the curious cows, fed the chickens, and listened to the near-deafening sound of flocks of Canadian geese flying overhead to make their annual journey south. In the evenings he built blazing fires, played guitar, and sang love songs to her. They sipped warm spiced rum.
She had refused his sexual advance as a teenager but now they confirmed their still-present love for each other through the art of lovemaking without the need for words. Skin to skin, they held each other as if life depended on it. Their breaths became one in the miracle of love. Sleep was soothing and complete with no worry or fear, just perfect comfort in each other’s arms. His tenderness filled her; she was in awe of his gentleness and openness to share every emotion that engulfed him. She was safe in this wilderness with this man she had dreamed of wondering if he still remembered. The way he put his fingers through her hair and kissed her whispering, “I love you more than life,” convinced her she never wanted to leave.
That, however, wasn’t reality. They both had commitments that needed attention; it was so complicated. They knew their time was limited but they also knew they had settled the mystery that had haunted them, for most of their adult lives. They didn’t know what fate had in store but their time together had been a healing, the culmination of the wonderment of love. She boarded the plane leaving part of her heart with him and taking part of his with her. And just like that…she was gone out of Laurie’s life.
***
Edie didn’t want me to mention this but I thought it was significant and may even be part of another story later. Fifteen years after her trip to Nova Scotia and their incredible bonding and healing of the memories they shared, Laurie found her one final time. They emailed and talked on the phone. There were tears, talking about what might have been but never happened. They reminisced about the days spent at his home and how it became the bar to compare the healing of a broken heart. He sent her a large box of all the letters he had written to her over the years. They are intimate stories of his life, his fears, his loves and though he acknowledges they would probably not be together, that thread of love is ever-present in each heart-felt word he laid on the paper, now yellowed with age. Edie also has many letters she wrote to him that were never delivered. It’s a legacy of love and respect.
In loving memory of Laurie, who passed away in 2023 of prostate cancer. He had a lovely daughter who was the light of his life and he was always a gentleman of the most honorable kind. He was clever and witty, a fantastic author of some insightful books of life lessons learned. They gave me a sense of the depth of this lovely man. My only regret is that I didn’t have more time with him. Love, Edie.