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The Sticky Note | Old high school sweethearts meet again after many years.BY: Scott Fisher | Category: Relationships | Post Date: 2009-10-22
Jenifer McAdams looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She had always had the curse of seeing what was really there, rather than what she wanted to see. 40 years old and divorced, she had raised two kids, and, this morning, she looked it. Bags swelled under her eyes, the lines around her mouth looked like interstates. The gray in her dark hair outpaced her efforts to hide it. She was just generally pissed off. Good morning, have a nice day, she told her reflection. She settled into her routine at the law office and went through the motions of her job. Get the partners their friggin' coffee, give the partners their itineraries, tie their damned shoelaces…it was like she'd never finished raising kids. She picked up after them, reminded them to do their work, kept track of their finances, made excuses for them, and they pulled down six figures. What sense did that make? She opened her laptop and hoped to have a few minutes of peace before one of the -children- needed his nose wiped or something. -Excuse me- a new voice sounded above her. She ignored it. She needed a minute. After a breath and a moment to fix her smile in place, she swiveled around to greet the stranger. -Yes, can I help you?- Something oddly familiar about this man tickled her curiosity. Roughly her age, balding, nicely built, not bad. What was it? Where did she know him from? His smile came easy and friendly and she liked him. His eyes glistened with intelligence, and seemed to dance a little at her rudeness. She couldn't help but smile back. -I don't have an appointment, just stopping by to see an old friend.- She looked him over more closely. He wore faded jeans, a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and scuffed up cowboy boots. Not the kind of dress she was used to in this professional atmosphere. But he looked comfortable, completely at ease in his own skin. -Really? You're friends with these idiots?- She wished she hadn't said it, but it seemed to cleanse her of her bad mood. -Which one?- He laughed, his eyes never leaving hers. -You, actually.- She sat back now, crossing her legs and scrutinizing him for a moment. -Do I know you?- Knowing the answer, she sought more answers. -You used to,- he said, sitting down. -We…- Jenifer's desk phone buzzed and an arrogant male voice filled the room. -Get me the Suncoast file.- -…please,- she finished with a roll of her eyes. Smiling apologetically at her guest, she stood to do as ordered. -Sorry, it's a little busy in here…um…- -Steve…Steve Beacham…1982- -Oh my God, Steve!- she wanted to hug him, but the corner desk prevented it. -I…I…really have to work. Can you call me?- She scribbled her cell phone number on a neon pink sticky note and handed it to him. The rest of the day dripped by like a leaky faucet. She performed her duties without thinking, dismissing the rudeness and condescension of her bosses as unimportant. She was back in 1982, wearing her silver prom dress, dancing to -Too Much Heaven- by the Bee Gees, and feeling young and in love. She remembered his kiss, his touch, his smell, everything about him. She tingled as the memories came to her, one by one. Was that the last time she was truly happy? She checked her cell phone more than she should and wished he would call. She rushed home that afternoon, feeling the anticipation she always felt with a new man in her life. But this was different…this was Steve, her first love. Alone in her bedroom that night, she waited, feeling a little stupid and humiliated. Every now and then, she flipped her phone open to see if somehow she had missed his call. Nothing. A tear caressed her cheek as she cursed herself for being so weak. Why would this be any different? He's just a man, after all, and they're all jackasses, right? But there was something about the way he had looked at her…it wasn't love, but something better. Something more real. Maybe he looked at everyone like that and she was just making it more than it was. But why would he seek her out if he didn't want to talk to her? Arriving at the office the next morning, Jenifer parked her Audi, grabbed her files from the front seat and slammed the door. She marched through the entrance, her demeanor daring one of these jerks to speak to her. She was near tears, but no one would ever know it, she would make sure of that. As she sat down and powered up her computer, she saw in the middle of her desk a plain envelope with her name on it. Her first thought was that she was being fired. It had been that kind of week, after all. She ripped it open and found a folded piece of paper with a neon pink sticky note on it. -Please read- it said. She did. Dear Jenifer, When I came here to find you, I wasn't sure what I wanted or what I would do once I did find you. All I know is that I have wanted every woman to be you and they just aren't. A long time ago, I tried to tell myself I was over you and move on with my life, but everything just comes back to you. When I saw you yesterday, I almost couldn't breathe. I realized that I love you as much now as I did then. You're more beautiful at 40 than you were at 16, if that's possible. I don't know what I want you to say. I don't know if you're married, I don't know anything. I just know that I love you and I needed you to know that. Steve Her eyes welled up with tears as she held the letter to her chest. Just then, her cell phone rang. 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