The Run-in

Amanda Billings shuffled to her breakfast nook to fix the morning coffee. She hit the light switch. The side door stood wide open. Her feet froze in place. Her breath caught in her throat. She grabbed a cast iron pan, lifted it, ready to bash any intruder drawing close.

 “It’s me,” a little voice greeted her. “Come out, Mom! You gotta see.”

“You scared me! Why are you outside so early?”

Andrew looked through the viewfinder on his new Vtech camera. “The sunrise, look! All pink and yellow sherbet, like Dad always said.” He pressed the shutter button.

She replaced the pan on the stove. Her shoulders relaxed.

“Mom, come see!”

“Let me put the coffee on.”

“No, you’ll miss it!”

Oh, how resilient her boy was. While she, on the one hand, had to muster all her courage just to get through a day, Andrew could delight in all of life’s ordinary marvels.

She sighed as she tightened the belt on her robe. Her late husband Paul, a nature photographer, had won awards for his sunrises and sunsets, especially those with backgrounds of nearby mountains. She avoided anything and everything that reminded her of him, which is why, after the terrible blow that was his passing, she’d sold the El Paso house to buy a duplex in Cruces. One with a single bedroom closet and no built-in grill. 

“You sure about selling?” her realtor had asked. “Years of memories in this place.”

“Too much house,” Amanda had answered when in truth it was all those memories she couldn’t bear to face.

She plopped down on the porch steps next to her boy. A glow of sun peeking over the Organ Mountains revealed more of the purple hills and their prickly cactus growths. Her son changed the settings on his new device effortlessly and took a series of shots. She’d suggested a nerf gun or a transformer for his birthday, but his paternal grandparents chose a camera so their grandson wouldn’t forget his father.

“Can I get a tripod? Dad had one.”

She’d already sold all of Paul’s equipment. “We’ll see.”

Once the sun had risen, they returned to the kitchen. Amanda got out eggs while Andrew set about reviewing the shots he’d taken, deleting some and protecting others he liked.

“Make pancakes, Mom. The Micky Mouse faces Dad used to make.”

Although it was painful, she tried not to deny her son anything that could transform a frown into fun. That thought kept her head up high, kept her from crawling into a figurative deep dark hole in which to cry.

  “I’ve got a better idea. Let’s get dressed, go downtown, and eat in that restaurant near the Farmer’s Market.”

“Where Dad always ordered a three-meat omelet?”

“Precisely.”

“Can I get pancakes and an omelet?”

“Sure. Now set the tomato timer. Let’s race to see who’s ready first.”

* * *

In Maria’s Café, after ordering at the counter, Andrew made a dash for a window table overlooking Main Street, where they could observe farmers setting up tables covered with onions and cilantro. Amanda eyed the people coming and going, her mind surrendering to happier times: Paul bringing her red roses for Valentine’s Day, Paul planting beds of yellow poppies in their lava rock front yard. Oh, how she missed having someone who could share the good and the bad.

“Stop messing with your straw, Andrew. You’re gonna spill your water.”

She gazed out the window and spied a man in a trench coat, a strange attire totally out of place in the middle of the Chihuahua Desert. His walk, his build were eerily familiar, causing her pulse to quicken. She watched him saunter up and down the street, stop at every booth, chat with vendors.

“Stop playing with the sugar packets. Food will be here any sec.”

The man selected carrots, paid a vendor, then dropped the produce into a nylon bag. She observed his profile--the square jaw, the long distinctive nose. Her skin tingled as he turned his face toward her. No, it couldn’t be, could it? What in the world would Donny be doing here?

“Andrew? Don’t chew on ice. Not good for your teeth.”

The man glanced at the café window and smiled. Same broad smile, one front tooth slightly overlapping the next, larger-than-most ears, square face, dark hair, roving Italian eyes. Don! It had to be Don. Oh my God! As he rubbed his left hand across his mouth, she noted he wore no ring.

“Wait right here. Do not move, understand?”

No time to waste. The man might turn and walk in the other direction and she’d miss her chance. She dashed up to him, tapped his shoulder. “Don?”

He turned, gazed at her, and gave her a wink.

“Don? Donny Shine? Is that you?”

“I, uh…”

“It is you! I’d know you anywhere. Oh, my goodness. Donny! I can’t believe my eyes! I’m so glad to see you. I cannot believe this. You don’t remember me, do you? It’s me. Mandy!”

“Mandy,” he said and the smile widened.

“What are you doing in Cruces?”

“Um, shopping?”

“I see that.” She notched a lock of hair behind an ear. “I thought you lived in Hawaii. Last I heard. Tom told me you tended bar. Back when you were earning money for college. Is that where you met Molly? Or was it before, in Waltham?”

“I, uh, I live in Denver now.

“Denver? My gosh! Denver? Who knew? In that case, I’m lucky to run into you. I’ve never been to Denver and I probably never will.”

She peered over her shoulder. “Come in for a minute? Meet my boy?”

“Your boy?”

It sounded small and insignificant, what she was asking, but to her it was major. If things had been different back then, Andrew might have been Donny’s son.

“He’s eight. Have breakfast with us? If you’re not with anyone. I didn’t see you with... I’ve been watching a while. Only because I thought I recognized you. And I did. Donny Shine! Fifteen years. I can’t believe it.”

“Fifteen years,” he repeated, nodding.

“Such a long time since high school.”

“So true,” he said.

“Come eat with us. This café makes the best breakfasts. Oh, Donny. Oh, my. I always hoped I’d see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you, too.”

“It is, huh!”

They stepped into the restaurant, Amanda waving Don toward the booth where her boy was slapping butter on toast.

“Andrew, this is one of Mommy’s friends from school. Can you say ‘hi’?”

“Hi.”

“Hey, there Andrew. You like strawberry jelly? Me, too.”

Amanda scooted into the booth, making room for Donny beside her. He removed his coat, slid his produce bag off his wrist, and slipped in. He had long legs, legs so familiar from summers at her lake house where she and he would take out her family sailboat and sit knee to knee.

My God, he’s still so handsome. Even after all these years. Her heart beat wildly against her rib cage. It was illogical, insane, yet also very real.

“What have you been up to?”

“I’m a veterinarian.”

“A vet?” Amanda and Andrew both said.

“I love dogs,” Andrew offered.

“Me, too, bud.”

“But you were going into economics. You told me so the last time I saw you when you came home from Brandeis. The time you swung me around the living room in front of my dad. I thought he’d jump right out of his chair.”

“Sometimes you don’t know where life will take you,” he said.

“You haven’t changed.” Amanda felt the blush rush to her cheeks; longing filled her chest and halted her breathing exactly like years ago. It was crazy but here they were, and he wasn’t wearing a ring.

“Um, Donny, I have to ask. I don’t see…” She held up her left hand and encircled her ring finger. “Where’s… aren’t you still with… I mean… is Molly in town?”

“My wife died this year,” Don said. “Cancer. I can save animals. I couldn’t save her.”

“Sorry to hear that.” She hoped she hadn’t answered too cheerfully.

“My dad’s in heaven, too,” Andrew said.

“That's sad, bud.”

“Don’t be sad. Heaven’s a super place.”

“Okay, then. What’s good to eat here, Andy, besides toast?”

“It’s Andrew, not Andy. And the three-meat omelet is rad!”

“Three-meat omelet it is.”

Amanda spotted her reflection in the aluminum napkin holder and smoothed her hair. “Who are you visiting in Cruces?”

“A classmate from vet school.”

“Oh, right. Your brother lives in Virginia. I contacted him years back. You know I emailed you once? Your brother gave me the address. Said he had fond memories of me. I guess from the times he came sailing with us.”

“My brother said all that, did he?”

“Jonathan was very helpful. Oh, here’s our food.” Amanda said to the waitress, “Some maple syrup, please?”

“And another cup of coffee? Oh, and more toast for the boy.”

“So, where did you go to veterinarian school? Did you do that at Brandeis? Tom said you left New England. Did you study in Hawaii? Work in the bar at the same time? You’ve been all over from what I can tell. I’m talking too much, aren’t I? I didn’t use to chatter like this.”

He flashed a smile. “I studied in Fort Collins then set up a practice in Golden. What? What’s that face you’re making?”

“It’s just that I don’t think you even had a dog in high school. Not that I visited your house that much. We mostly went dancing or for a drive.”

“We had a dog. A spaniel.”

“Huh! Well, can I tell you I thought about this day a lot?”

“You have?"

“Yes, always wondered if I would ever run into you or if you’d ever come to El Paso, you know, to look me up. But, anyway, I found you, and it’s great to see you, Donny. You look amazing.” God, he’s so gorgeous. I just want to throw myself at him. Maybe I already am.

Amanda closed her eyes, reliving nights parked at the quarry, Donny’s tender kisses, his tongue exploring her lips. There was nothing, nothing on this planet like that feeling of first love. She opened her eyes quickly to see if anyone had caught her fantasizing.

Andrew was squeezing two gobs from a catchup bottle onto a napkin. He sang, “Catchup eyes,” and licked the napkin clean.

Donny was stirring creamer into his mug.

“Mom, can we see a movie?”

“My friend is probably busy.”

“I'm not. Is a movie your favorite thing, Andrew? Or how ‘bout fishing? Any good places to fish around here?”

“There’s Elephant Butte,” Amanda said.

“Oh, wow. Can I get my own pole? Can I? Can I?”

“Sure thing. I’ll take my car and follow you, Mandy.”

The way he said her name sent shivers up her spine, just the way it used to. Despite years with Paul and years raising a son, some things from the past hadn’t changed at all.

* * *

An hour later the two cars pulled into Elephant Butte State Park. At the ranger’s station, they rented fishing gear and paid for temporary licenses. A ranger boasted, “Got the best-managed fishery in the whole Southwest.”

As Donny stood next to her at the register, she admired his height, his thick hair, that sexy, contagious grin he had once given only to her.

At the pier, he showed Andrew how to skewer a worm on a hook, then he cast all three lines into the lake and sat down to wait.

“Snacks, Mom!”

“Here’s the bag. Come choose. Then show Don your new camera.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s awesome.” He removed the device from a pouch around his neck. “It shoots videos, too.”

“Take our picture, Andrew.”

“Okay, smile!” From his spot at the end of the pier, Andrew zoomed in.

“Careful. Don’t drop it in the water!”

“So, high school has fond memories for you?” Don asked.

“You know it has.”

“What’s fixed in your mind?”

“Riding in the Saab.” Before he’d obtained his license, it had been his stepmom who’d driven them. Ah, that first date! The amusement park, the popcorn, the breeze, their first stroll holding hands. She wondered if he remembered riding in the front of his family's car with his stepmother driving while she’d sat in back. But later that summer, once he’d gotten the Saab, they’d had the freedom to double date with Jeanie and Tom, to hang out the windows shouting out lyrics from popular songs, to explore adolescent hungers, her hot hands underneath his shirt. Plaid shirts. Donny had always worn plaid. She used to belly laugh at his jokes. Now she couldn’t recall a single one.

“Say something funny.”

“How’s that?”

“So that every funny thing you ever said will come flowing back.”

Don was strangely silent, pensive, not hilarious as she’d remembered him. What had changed? What has he been through? Had anticipation made them lighthearted and giddy back then? Or had infatuation made him seem funnier than he actually was?

“Don’t know any jokes, sorry.” He pulled up his line and checked the hook. Still no catch.

The afternoon flew by without a bass or catfish to show, so they ate an early dinner at the Bigfoot Restaurant. The boy ordered a burger while Don and Amanda got seafood platters. Outside on the patio, the evening air blew thirsty and obliging.

Andrew wandered over to a black and white dog pulling on a leash. “What kind of dog is this, Don?”

“Sheltie. They make great sheep herders.”

The boy sprawled out on the stone floor and petted the little guy’s head.

“Take his picture, Andrew. Well, ask the owners first.”

“Yeah!”

“What a great kid!"

“He is. I wouldn’t trade him for anything. Still, sometimes I wish I were sixteen again. Do you remember the day you asked me out?”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember walking behind the school. Field Day. I wore flowered shorts and a pink shirt. You leaned me against the wall. I tried to wiggle free. You didn’t let me. You said you’d asked Tom his opinion of me because you were afraid of what people would say if they saw us together. Tom said, ‘Mandy’s not so bad,’ that it was fine to ask me out. So, you did.”

Don reeled in his line then cast it farther out. “Sixteen-year-olds can be jerks.”

“Seventeen-year-olds. I was sixteen; you, a year older.”

“Oh…but there were good times, right?”

A grin spread over her face as she recalled their first kiss at The Barn, the place all the kids snuck out to, in order to dance and cuddle close. A lot of kids married their high school sweethearts back then—Linda and Rob, Roni and Nick, Dorothy and Stan. But not Mandy and Don.

“Why would you want to be sixteen again?”

“Such a carefree time. Life was full of promise…until it wasn’t.”

He nodded and passed her another roll.

A whole day had passed by, laughing and reminiscing, yet without any effort on Donny’s part to repeat history; no leaning in close, no touching of arms or shoulders, no hand-holding, not even when Andrew had photographed them. I wonder if Donny regrets what he said the night he left. How he blamed our break-up on somebody else: “My stepmom says I can’t date you anymore because you’re Sagittarius. She says Sagittarius is selfish. She knows because she’s Sagittarius herself.”

Suddenly Amanda blurted out, “Why didn’t you come back for me? You said you would.” She wiped her eyes with her fists.

“I’m here now.”

After dinner, they circled back to the park to reuse their day-pass so that Andrew could get some shots of the sunset. They chose a flat boulder and made themselves comfortable. All through a fiercely fuchsia sundown, the boy yawned noisily. Amanda escorted a very tired little guy to the back seat of her car. “Lie down and rest.” Andrew gave no fight about that.

She trudged back to the boulder. “You’re not Donny Shine, are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Why did you say you were?”

“I didn’t. I just went along. You seemed so excited about seeing this Don again that I wanted to be him.”

She crossed her arms. “What’s your real name?”

“Harold Robertson.”

“Was anything true?”

“It was all true. I’m a vet in Denver. I just lost my wife.”

“You better go.”

“Mandy, I genuinely like you. Can we start again?”

“No. I confided in you some very personal things. I’m too embarrassed. Go, please. Leave.”

As he stood up, his shoes scraped on gravel. “Nice meeting you.”

She peered down at the ground and shook her head.

After Harold’s car disappeared down the dirt road in a cloud of dust, Amanda perched on the hood of her car to contemplate the moon, its reflection hazy and metallic on the still waters of the lake. Grabbing Andrew’s camera, she promptly deleted their picture from that afternoon. She could never get involved with someone who looked exactly like Donny yet wasn’t him.

The words of her former realtor drifted into her mind: “If your husband was good to you and he loved you, then enjoy the grief. Grief is just another symbol of the love you shared.” Amanda thought, I’ve loved twice in my lifetime. Once in high school and once afterward. Though I always thought I’d come full circle and meet up with Donny again, I have to admit I don’t need a man. I just need to make sure my son has everything. That he isn’t lonely, that he doesn’t hurt. And that’s what I will do.

Gazing at the icy moon, she thought, The wine of nostalgia had made her drunk. The fantasy was over. Time to head on home.

(from pinterest.com)