For Better or Worse - 62 Years Late

"Harriet. Sweet Harriet."

    Oh, for the love of everything holy, he was starting out with a joke. Harriet wondered how The Almighty thought this was a good idea. Devon was the first of three husbands and the only one she mistook for true love. How could a man who was supposed to be her true love start out trying to be amusing? She started to turn back, but she didn't know where to go. So she did what she always did, "That's me. Sweet as a peach." Sarcasm begets sarcasm.

    The Devon she knew from decades ago gave her a sideways look with a crooked little smile. Then she remembered. It was from their first date. They were sitting in his car, laughing, and he called her his sweet Harriet. No one before or after ever thought of her as sweet. It was a nice memory. One she didn't want. She didn't want to remember the good times. She had been clinging to the hurt for so long.

    This man had broken her heart sixty-two years ago. He had walked out the front door of their loving home and never returned. Hold on to that, she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and thought back to that awful day. When she opened them again all she could see was Devon smiling at her.

    "Remember our first date?"

    "You took me to a restaurant that had been shut down for rodent infestation." She wanted the reminder to make her angry, but all she could do was laugh. He had been so embarrassed. Her family was not cut from the go-with-the-flow cloth of some and she pulled out a candy bar and offered it to him. He smiled that crooked smile and cut it in half with his pocket knife. Then, very gallantly, gave her the bigger piece and called her sweet.

    "I knew from the moment you handed me that candy bar that you were the one. And I was right. No matter what went wrong, you always knew how to look at it from a different angle and make the world right again."

    Harriet knew the minute he smiled at her offering that he was the one for her. But after sixty-two years of missing him, it was difficult to let go of the anger. At least, she knew it should be. It had been, until now. Until the moment she arrived. That rage was falling away, slipping out of reach. She looked around, confused at what was happening to her beloved, stoic, misery.

    "This is absurd. I didn't think that you of all the people, and after all this time and in this place...where is this place? It looks so familiar." Harriet took in her surroundings. For the first time since she arrived she looked at everything except Devon. The field, the trees, the barn in the distance. She thought she'd be sneezing from hayfever, but she felt great. Then she noticed her feet and her favorite red high heels. She hadn't worn heels in years. She had forgotten how much she loved them. How beautiful she felt wearing them. Her feet weren't squished and the vertigo hadn't kicked in. Even on the grass, in the middle of nowhere, she felt amazing.

    Devon didn't keep his eyes off of Harriet. "This was parent's place. We went once, right before the wedding." 

    "Now I remember." She was just as fascinated with the site of a real barn and a real farm as she had been all those years ago.

    A picnic table was set with two covered plates, silverware, and a bottle of wine.

    "You are as beautiful as the first day we met."

    She caught herself before she returned the compliment. He didn't need to know how good he looked.

    They sat across from each other and uncovered the meal. Lasagna. Her favorite.

    She took a bite and closed her eyes. It was all so perfect. She felt perfect. The memories of her crying, heartbroken over the man across the table were gone, replaced with the feeling of their laughter and their love. She jolted herself back to where she thought she wanted to be. Not happy. Not joyous. Spiteful.

    "You know I remarried. Twice." the words fell out wrong.They were playful and they both laughed. Why was she laughing? Why was he?

    "Yes. I do know. Kyle and Bennett. Kyle seemed nice enough and you shouldn't feel too bad. Anyone could have missed the whole gay thing."

    Harriet dropped her fork. Gay? Kyle? Of course. That made sense. She picked her fork back up and continued eating the most delicious lasagna she ever had.

    "But what were you thinking marrying a man named Bennett."

    "He owned three dry cleaners. I thought he was a catch."

    They both shook their heads at the ridiculousness that was Bennett. Harriet really had thought he was a catch. After three months of wooing and one drunk night in Vegas they were man and wife. Six months later he sold the cleaners for half their value and ran off the New York to pursue his dream of becoming a Broadway actor. He was not successful.

    They laughed and talked and ate and when her plate was empty she stared across the table and knew the time had come. She knew what she had to do. She had rehearsed every possible response he could toss back at her. There was the angry version, the tearful version, the regretful version, all ending with Harriet getting in the last word. She couldn't move on if she didn't ask and now was her chance.

    "I loved you. I warned you. And you left anyway. Why?"

    "I had to go. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. It was time."

    In her youth, Harriet would have thrown a plate at his head for such a foolish answer that wasn't an answer at all. She tried to yell, but the words sounded so pathetic.

    "I hate you. Or, I did hate you. It's like it all disappeared. I don't understand."

    They were only married two and a half years and for next sixty-two she had taken great pride in hating the man who had broken her heart beyond repair.

    The night he had left she had told him not to go. She said she could figure out something for dinner, but he had insisted on going to pick up Chinese food. The rain was bad, but he had driven in worse. She never forgave herself for letting him walk out the door.

    Devon came around the table and took her hands in his. Suddenly they were newlyweds again. He swept her into his embrace and kissed her the way that only someone who loves you can kiss you.

    With that kiss she forgave him and she forgave herself. They held each other with the love they had swore to each other all those years ago. Harriet remembered the look on the police officer's face when he told her about the crash.  

    "I was so angry. So angry I had to wait all these years."

    With that came the reassuring squeeze she had waited so long to feel. The one that said he'd never let her go again.

    "Sixty-two years is a blink of the eye. Now, come, my love. I have so much I've been waiting to share."

    The table was gone. The farm was gone. All her fears and anxieties were gone. Harriet followed her husband with the same love she had after that first date. Perhaps God knew what he was doing after all. Now she could ask Him.