Sunday, December 30, 2012

Goofy grin

The last several days I have caught myself sliding into a goofy grin.  I recognize this grin and the state of mind behind it.  What I don't know is whether it is premature.

To fill in the story I have to back up: a few days to Christmas Eve, or possibly twenty years.

Twenty years?  Why yes.  Twenty years ago next week -- the very beginning of January, 1993 -- I started a job at a small tech startup here in town.  (The company has since closed and I'm working somewhere else now.)  My position had been created new, because they realized they needed someone to handle a certain collection of tasks full-time; up till then those tasks had been covered at best part time by a woman I'll call Debbie, who had finally insisted that someone else needed to take them over.  So while my boss was some other guy, Debbie did most of my training.

Debbie and I spent a lot of time together, first because she was training me and then because we were just talking.  I liked her a lot: she was quiet, serious, and compassionate -- Unitarian, for what it's worth, with all the social sensibilities that usually implies.  And she seemed to like me.  I never pushed it any farther than talking -- "just good friends" -- because, well, I'm shy and we were both married and this was twenty years ago.  I wasn't ready to go there yet.  And so I never really had any way to check whether she had gotten to the point that I had gotten to, where my heart did a little flutter whenever I was around her, or thought about her.

More precisely, she never said anything about feelings on her side, but I had my suspicions.  About a year later, maybe less, she and her husband and their daughter moved to Europe for a couple of years.  People often lose track of each other after a move that significant, but we kept in regular touch by e-mail.  When they came back, she returned to work at the same company part-time for a couple more years.  Her hours were such that we didn't see each other a lot, but we had lunch together when we could.  Sometimes at a local restaurant.  Once or twice she drove me to her house and we ate there.  And then after a while suddenly every time we met for lunch it turned out that her husband had asked to join us too.  Every single time.  His idea, or hers?  It couldn't have been just my charming personality.  Had she said something at home?  Was he feeling jealous and overprotective?  Or did she feel she needed a chaperone?  And if the latter, was it because she was worried about where I might be taking us?  Or about herself?

So many questions, and I never asked them out loud.  I never learned any answers.  And then after a while Debbie took another job somewhere else and we really didn't see each other any more.  Once in a great while I would hear what was going on with her through common friends.  Occasionally she would send out a mass e-mail to her friends when something big happened ... like when she changed careers altogether, or when her daughter went off to college, or when she and her husband split up.  I saw her once when a bunch of us from that company (long sinnce closed) got together for the funeral of one of our erstwhile co-workers, but we didn't exchange any words.  The crowd was big and it was hardly the time.

And then this week -- Monday, Christmas Eve -- I had to go out to the grocery store for one or two last-minute things that we just had to have.  I had picked them off the shelves and was standing trying to decide whether to get one more bottle of wine as well or whether to check out ... when I noticed that there was something familiar about that woman over there in the checkout line.  She was greyer than I remembered, and looked older ... but then we've all gotten older with time.  Was that Debbie?  Or just someone who looked kind of like her?  I admit that I stared for a minute, trying to decide.  She looked around -- maybe she felt my eyes on the back of her neck -- and saw me.  We just looked at each other face to face for a moment, each thinking.  Then she picked up her basket of groceries, murmured "Excuse me" to the woman behind her in line, and came out to talk to me.  It was Debbie.

We talked a little bit.  How are you doing?  OK, how about you?  I told her that the boys are both in high school and doing well (though I'm not quite sure whether they were even born yet back when we worked together).  And I told her that Wife and I are separating.  She asked if I had heard that she and her husband had divorced.  (I had.)  She added that it had taken a long time to get everything finalized, and I get the impression that it wasn't exactly a smooth divorce.  She agreed with me that even a failed marriage can be very educational.  Then we exchanged e-mail addresses and went our separate ways.

A couple of days after Christmas I sent her a quick note to follow up.  I wanted to keep it light, because (as noted) I really wasn't sure if she felt quite the same way I did.  And for that matter, how much of my feelings were just a decade and more of accumulated fantasy, rather than anything based in reality?  Better to start off light.

Bright and early Thursday morning, I wrote her:

Hi Debbie,

It was great to bump into you at the store the other day.  Once the hubbub of the holidays has subsided, does your schedule have space in it for a cup of coffee?  I'd love to continue the conversation.

All the best, as always,
Hosea

Not twenty minutes later, I got back a reply:
Hi Hosea,

It was, indeed, good to run into you, although bittersweet.  I find you have been much on my mind these past few days and I have been wishing you well-being and the best possible outcome, whatever that may be. 

I'd love to continue the conversation over a cup of coffee after the holidays!  As I mentioned, [here she discussed some holiday plans that last through January 3rd], so any time after that would be good for me.   I work [these and those days].  Most other days I have time free, so just let me know what will work for you.

may you be well,
Debbie
Bittersweet?  I've been much on her mind?  Sounds promising.  So I wrote back:
Hi again,

I'm glad we'll be able to get together.  Too often I have dawdled or neglected to follow up with someone and the meeting grows stale.  I wanted to be sure that didn't happen with you.

I go back to work on the 2nd.  [Then I described my schedule for the next couple weeks.]  So gosh, shall we throw a dart at a wall?  How about noon on Friday the 4th?  Or if that looks inconvenient, by all means toss back another day instead.

And then the next big question: where? 

Looking forward to this,
Hosea
She agreed to the 4th and asked me to propose a place.  I suggested three options, and she wrote back:
I like [this one] and their quiet little tables nestled into nooks and crannies are good for talking, so let's go there.  Shall I meet you there at noon?
As I said once before, it appears that I have a date. Let's see how it goes.

Oh, and in case I forget to mention it ... Happy New Year!

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