THEY lay half hidden in the shadows, unbuckled and in disarray; as if just taken off hastily after a long night’s dance. She comes and goes seeing them all the time but never bothering to return to the box. She just can’t yet. She wanted a now fading memory to linger like the favorite perfume she hadn't had for years.
She recalls how she got this lovely pair of shoes in the first place. She and hubby hopped from store to store in the crowded city to find one that matches her beaded and sequined cocktail dress. It amazed her that her husband of thirty-five years, one of the most impatient people on the planet would bear the hours and the long walks at the mall. This cocktail dress itself took him quite some time in one of his business trips. That moment, she felt how he cared about her and how she will look like on the grand night of the biggest party of her life.
“Yes, Miss, we will get this one!” He motioned to the sales lady feeling more excited and accomplished than she was.
“You will look great in these shoes, honey!” he smiled triumphantly. He had exquisite taste. When he says yes, she knew it was always for the best - her hair, her clothes, jewelry or accessory. She was more confident with his choices than with hers for anything. And he did not miss even once. She must admit it; she has grown into a better person with his gentle guidance and playful nudging all these years.
She did look elegant and lovely that night; meeting friends and school mates for the last 40 years in their first high school grand reunion. But above all, she looked forward to seeing her first love or so she thought; a nagging desire that fired her tender years, from time to time igniting the flickering embers in her heart.
For many years, she has avoided gatherings like this. But now, she had the courage to. She wanted to know if she has outgrown him at last. But does one outgrow love? Or grow with it? Just the thought moved her to tears. Love can be confusing at times.
She saw him first when she was ten years old, wandering on the school grounds for a visit. He came from another school. He was fair and slim and tall with curious yet playful eyes. How could he be so attractive then? Even to a ten year old? She would meet him again in her first year of middle school. He filled her girlhood days with excitement. He knew she was falling for him. But he was nonchalant about it, ignoring her if he could. Once in their college years, he just showed up one late night with friends and invited her to a party. She was so flustered in her pajamas that she said no.
“I did not expect you to say no,” he said later, bringing it up at the time he proposed his love and she said yes to him.
Several years after on a fiery summer he showed up fresh from college to woe her. A dream turning real! He wrote love letters and poetry as if it was the only time and the only thing he had and did in the world. In diary form with hours and minutes, sights and sounds of places he visited.
“Look what I have!” he once wrote naughtily, “Your favorite baby powder! I took it with me to smell every time I miss you.”
"I am on the beach right now. The sea is muddy and wavy. Far out in the horizon, I can see the outline of our island in the haze but my heart is clear. I love you! I miss you like hell".
The cherry blossoms at their rendezvous by the old town plaza started to fall as summer came to an end. The grass was a bed of lavender and pink. And the last breezes carried away their memories as the first June rains drenched the trees. Like her tears. The rain puddles sparkled like gold in the neon lights reminding her of happy times. And the old swing where he spoke of his love creaked with the weight of its loss. It was brief and sweet; this young love of a lifetime. She was awed that she could not feel any bitterness at all. Even with the tears. She was grateful that she can love this way.
That fateful night, the silver sequins of her shoes glittered brightly in the ball room like specks of moonlight at her feet. She waited for him to bring down the stars. She wanted to hold him tight and dance away the years, the tears and fears. Just for once. The night was long and yet, it waned like the moon. Nothing stays forever; only the stars perhaps. He threw her admiring glances across the hall. Were they laced with longing? And then he walked towards her to bid goodbye. He gave her a quick hug and a warm peck on the forehead. Just like that. Did he really love her then? Or does love really fade with the years?
"My family is waiting," he said. "We are on a short vacay. Thanks for everything." He turned away and walked into the night. She shivered in the evening breeze but to her surprise, heaved a sigh of relief. A sense of heaviness left her. Her footsteps now lighter as she drove home.
“Did you enjoy the party?” Her husband asked thoughtfully. He had always wanted her to be happy. She just smiled in response and hugged him tightly, taking off her coat. Here with her long and lasting love, her true love of a lifetime. She found what she was looking for, so close to home and hers to own.
“Thank you for the love,” she said, freeing her feet at last of the silver shoes that now sored her feet.
END.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
2 comments
Hello Nynn! Critique circle here. I liked this! I like the way the beginning links up to the end, it's always good when writers do that. I liked your descriptions, in particular "The rain puddles sparkled like gold in the neon lights". Lovely. I think the main character needed more development to make me care about what happens to her in the story. I'm sure others would disagree but I didn't find her very likeable. Quite one-dimensional. But that's just my personal opinion. Happy writing.
Reply
Hello Nynn, I thought that the start and finish of your story was extremely clever: to begin with the silver shoes, link it to the subject's husband, and then finish with her discarding them, and the feeling of relief ( at there being no further connection with her first love, and the shoes making her feet sore). There were some beautiful descriptions in your piece. In particular, the two paragraphs, which start with 'The cherry blossoms', just lovely! Only one criticism, you have confused the words woe and woo. Or maybe, this was deliberate...
Reply