There's Still a Spark

"Okay, okay. Yes, we're going, we're going. I know you wanna play with those doggies." I shut the car door with my left hand while my terrier tries his best to pull my right arm out of its socket tugging with all his might at his leash. For a small dog he is surprisingly strong. "Geez, calm down! You're gonna choke yourself!" Obi-Wan drags me down the slightly uneven steps to the outer gate of the dog park, whining impatiently. I shut the gate behind us before bending over to unfasten his leash from his collar and opening the inner gate. There are two other dogs running around in the large grassy area, those little white fluffy things that look like the offspring of a rat and a floor mop. Their owner is sitting on one of the hard plastic chairs with her eyes glued to her cell phone. She glances up, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand as I start across the grass toward the chairs and my heart skips a beat. That's not just an expression, either. My heart actually stops beating for a second or two. The woman's mouth has dropped open to the round 'O' that comic book artists use to convey shock or disbelief. "Holly?!" She calls out. "Holly? Is that you?" "Krista?" I reply once I am able to breathe. She is twenty two years older and a good fifty pounds heavier than the last time I saw her, but it's Krista all right. I find myself walking toward her without making the conscious effort to move my legs, only vaguely aware of our dogs tearing around the park together like maniacs with wagging tails. "Sit down." Krista indicates the plastic chair next to hers. I somehow manage to miss it and end up on my butt in the grass in an almost exact, yet completely unintentional, reenactment of the day we'd first met in high school chemistry. "It's nice to know I still have that effect on you," she laughs. I ignore the hand she offers me and scramble up into the chair, avoiding eye contact. "Our dogs seem to be getting along well," I comment, just to break the awkward silence between us. "Yeah," she agrees. "So, what are you doing in Vegas? You live here? Visiting someone?" I force myself to turn my had and look at her as I speak. "I moved here a couple years ago," she replies. "I've got some problems with arthritis and my doctor recommended a drier climate." "Does it help?" "Oh yeah, a lot. It's much better here." "Good." "What about you, Holly? You live here?" "Eight years now. I'm practically a native." "Did you move here for work?" "No, I...it's kind of embarrassing. I met a woman online years ago and I moved out here to be with her." "Really? Well, I'm happy for you." Did I just detect a note of disappointment in her voice? "Don't be. Turned out she was a coke addict and just wanted an enabler." "Oh. I'm sorry." I shrug my shoulders. "I'm just glad I learned the truth pretty quick. I fell in love with Vegas, though, so I decided to stay." "So, have you met anyone else, or..." Krista allows her voice to trail off, no doubt realizing that she is close to overstepping her bounds. I debate with myself for several moments whether or not to grace her with an answer. At this point my life is, after all, absolutely none of her business. But at the same time, twenty two years is an awfully long time to hold a grudge. "No, it's just Obi-Wan and me," I respond, inclining my head toward where my terrier is busy peeing on the fence. "Obi-Wan?" She grins with a sardonic lift of one dark blond eyebrow. "Still a geek, I see." "Yep, still a geek," I admit. "I always liked that about you. God, Holly, it's so good to see you again!" Krista reaches over to take my hand in hers. My initial instinct is to pull my hand out of her grasp but the signal somehow gets mixed up between my brain and my muscles, and I find my fingers folding themselves about her hand instead. "It's good to see you again too." My response comes out sounding like an automatic echo, even to my own ears. Is it good to see her again? If I'm being completely honest with myself I have to admit that I'm not sure. I can't deny that part of me is inordinately happy any more than I can deny the unexpected butterflies fluttering in my chest. Part of me, (perhaps even most of me) however, is not finished feeling hurt and resentful despite the passage of twenty two years. No doubt sensing my mixed emotions, Krista turns her gaze from me to where one of her dogs is wriggling on its back in the grass in apparent bliss. "Hey, Deena! What are you rolling in?" She releases my hand and walks over to check on her dog. She returns to her chair in a moment or two and gives her head a little shake. "I don't know what that was about," she comments with a resigned sigh. "I didn't see anything. But she's definitely getting a bath tonight." The silence that settles between us is not the easy companionable type, but the uncomfortable type that is weighty with tension and unspoken sentiment. One of us needs to address the metaphorical elephant in the dog park. I take a deep breath, feeling my heart thudding at the base of my throat. "Why, Krista?" "Why what?" She questions, glancing askance at me. "You know what. What happened? Why did you officially ask me to be your girlfriend and then two days later go out of your way to completely avoid me? Why did you fucking ghost me like that? No explanation or anything! I don't understand! I really liked you, Krista!" I can feel the salty sting of tears in the corners of my eyes. My intention had been to say what needs to be said in a rational manner without allowing my emotions to get the better of me, but I guess that's not happening. She reaches for my hand again but I snatch it away. "I loved you, Holly. I know we were young, but I loved you. Really. With all my heart." The candor in her uneven inflection forces me to turn my head toward her. I see nothing but sincerity and regret in her pale blue eyes. "So what happened?" I reiterate. "My mother found out about us. I left my phone on the kitchen table one day and she decided to go through it. She found that selfie of us kissing." "The one we took in your car in the parking lot of the mall?" I recollect. Krista nods her head. "She freaked out and went on a homophobic rant about how I was a degenerate and destined to burn in hell. She said if I didn't stay away from you she'd kick me out of the house. I wanted to tell you everything, Holly. I really did. I knew I was hurting you and it killed me. But Mother threatened that if she found out I was still talking to you I'd be out on the street. I was seventeen and I was scared. I didn't know what to do."  Krista rubs the tears from her cheeks with the heel of one hand. "I'm sorry, Holly. I never wanted to do that to you. I'm so sorry. I should've told Mother to go to hell no matter the consequences." Since Senior year in high school I have assumed there must have been something wrong with me, some flaw inherent in my personality that Krista had decided she just couldn't handle. I had assumed that she had been unwilling to talk to me about it and had instead opted to break my heart by dumping me cold with no explanation. Never once had I entertained the thought that she was suffering as miserably as myself. "I'm sorry," I murmur. "I didn't know. I mean, I remember she was strict and everything, but I had no idea." 'Strict' is putting it mildly. I actually remember Krista's mother being an overbearing first-class bitch. But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine her threatening to disown her daughter over the matter of her sexuality. "I moved out on my own as soon as I was able to support myself. I don't really talk to her anymore. I thought about trying to find you several times over the years. I never forgot you, Holly. Never." Krista pulls her leggings up just enough to show me the tattooed band of dark green holly leaves and red berries encircling her left ankle. "So why didn't you try to find me?" I wonder. "I...I didn't think you'd want to talk to me. I was afraid you'd be angry." "I was angry for a long time. And hurt." "I understand. I would have been too if it'd been the other way around. And I understand if you don't want to, but would you like to maybe go get coffee with me sometime?" Krista's cheeks are slightly flushed and her eyes are shifting in every direction except where I'm sitting. It is the exact self-conscious manner in which she had asked me out on our first date all those years ago. Her focus snaps back to me when I reply, "How about right now?" "Really?" She sounds surprised. "Sure. There's a Starbucks a couple blocks from here. We can leave our cars here and walk. And they've got outside seating so we can take the kids." I incline my head toward where the three dogs are lolling together in the grass, all tired out from playing. I sit at an outside table under a sun-faded umbrella while Krista walks into the Starbucks to place our orders. The dogs, secured by their leashes to a couple nearby chairs, occupy themselves by sniffing the pavement and snapping at the occasional insect. "Here you go, hazelnut cappuccino." When I take my drink from Krista I notice that 'Holly-Bug' is written on the cup. That was Krista's nickname for me in high school. As the two of us sit at the table catching up on each other's lives I can feel the years roll away. It feels right that Krista and I are here together, like it's the way things are meant to be. The way they were always meant to be. I know I am no longer the skinny seventeen year old girl with her braces and her obsession with plastic headbands and strawberry lip gloss, but right at this moment I feel like her again. I reach across the table to take Krista's hand in mine.