The Ones That Got Away

Crunch, crunch, crunch. My feet and the blanket of fall leaves meet on the winding trail to make my favorite seasonal music. We keep rhythm with the brisk air breeze and bowing of autumnal branches. There’s laughter from a group two booths to my right and I eavesdrop on a middle-aged man with a thick voice attempting to negotiate a deal with an annoyed artisan. 

“The prices are set, I don’t negotiate at these markets, sir,” the woman explains with a heavy note of exasperation in her voice. 

I take a few steps to the side of the white capped booth so I can get a better view of the drama unfolding. I’m sure to keep one eye on my niece still in line for a caramel apple across the way.  

“Ay-yai-yai!” the man responds while throwing his hands in the air. He desperately looks at the woman then to her handiwork and back at her again. There’s a moment where I wonder if he’ll grab his desired items and make a run for it. You never know what lengths some people will go to for their self-care products. 

“You hold a hard ground!” he exclaimed while rubbing his forehead and clearly, deeply considering the repercussions of moving on to the next booth without a purchase. “I suppose that’s good business sense,” he resigned with a feeble attempt to make amends for the grief he’d been giving her. “Give me two of the beeswax balms and one aromatherapy candle. I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t bring these home to my wife,” he surrendered with a half smile. 

I’m ever so slightly disappointed that the production ends here. I was secretly hoping for more passionate displays of badgering and bartering. Allie walks toward me, grinning from ear to ear. She’s carrying two enormous caramel apples affixed to thick sticks. One apple is doused in caramel and crushed nuts. The other is double-dipped with caramel and milk chocolate. The treats look worth the wait. 

“Girl, you know how to pick ‘em!” I say playfully as Allie joins me and we walk side by side. “You can’t really go wrong with sugar coated fruits,” she said and tucked her hair behind her ear trying not to get into a sticky situation with her confectionary dream of an apple and an unpredictable swoop of fall wind. 

Allie is thirteen years old, the sweet spot of an age where I’m still the cool aunt and we can talk about all things boys, friends, soccer, and school. Her mom, my sister, though deeply connected with her daughter, is equally as curious as to how Allie doesn’t clam up for the sake of coolness around me now that she’s entered the hall of preteen years. She calls me the “middle-school whisperer.” I don’t mind it, it’s a natural gift I suppose. 

“So, Allie-cat, what’s new?” I ask before taking a bite into crunchy sweet goodness. 

“Wellll,” she draws out with dramatic effect, “I think I’m in love!” she proclaims with a giddiness uniquely reserved for the seventh grade girl. “Don’t tell mom!” she quickly follows up and rolls her eyes. 

“Oh wow, that’s some big news! Gosh, who’s the lucky boy?” I ask while trying to extract a sticky nut lodged in my molars. 

“His name is Ben and he’s so cool and funny! We play on the same soccer team and he keeps sitting by me during our cool down stretches after practice,” she explains as we peruse a booth with handmade jewelry. 

“He sounds cool! That’s awesome that you guys have soccer in common,” I reply with a smile. 

“Yeah, that’s what I think too!” she excitedly agreed. We continue walking on the path eyeing which booth to enter next. “The only problem is that someone else has a crush on him too and I think they might start going out. I saw her passing a note to him in the hallway the other day and he smiled when she gave it to him,” she explained, her smile slowly fading.

“Oh no, that stinks!” I reply with my best understanding-aunt voice. “But maybe they’re just friends,” I follow up intending to invite some feeling of hope back to Allie. 

“I don’t know…” she said and glanced up to the sky. “It’s Cassidy Jacobs. She’s like, one of the coolest and most beautiful girls at school. And when we were in sixth grade we had a crush on the same boy, Miles Parson, and she totally made him fall in love with her. I think I just have to face it, Ben is just going to be another name to be added to my list of the ones that got away.” she said with a sigh.

I consider how deeply Allie feels as she recounts her list of loves that never came to pass. I’m about to conjure up some attempt to comfort her when she spots two of her friends several booths down the lane attempting to produce their latest TikTok video. 

“Oh my gosh it’s Bailey and Hannah!” Allie called out to her friends and quickly began walking in their direction. She paused just long enough to assure me she’d be, “right back!” 

A kick of wind blew through the vendor tents and with the gust a familiar smell hit my nose transporting me back several years ago. It was an October evening, cold, with a drizzle rain. I was with my new friends that felt like long-time friends and it was my freshman year of college. 

That first semester we all found our way into each other’s lives through a collection of what felt like serendipitous moments. Mandy, Bri, Yvette, and I lived in the same dorm building. Dan, Charlie, Josh, Brandon, Murphy, and Matt lived across the campus. We spent much of our free time together hanging out at the coffee shop, sharing our meals in the dining hall, planning themed parties to break up mundane evenings in the small college town, or spending the weekend traveling north to Chicago.  

This particular evening we decided to stay in town and were finishing up our time lounging at the coffee shop in the two-story house a few blocks from campus. We weren’t ready to head back to our dorms and were milling about the room walled with mismatched couches and chairs. 

“I know!” exclaimed Mandy. “You guys - let’s go to Nueva Casa and get some churros!” I hadn’t had a churro before but the excitement the group expressed at her suggestion convinced me it was time I try one. We packed up our things, bundled up, and headed out into the brisk air. I started shivering five minutes into the walk with the light drizzle and musky, damp air chilling me through my jacket. Matt nudged my right side with his shoulder as we waited for the crosswalk to change. 

“Hey, do you want to meet up this week to work on our photography projects?” he asked with a grin peeking out from the shadow of his drawn hood. “Yeah, that’d be great!” I said. 

Matt and I stumbled into each other’s lives quickly the first week of school. We managed to be in five of seven classes together so we became fast friends. It was natural to be together, we had similar interests, it was second nature to be our playful selves with each other, and we always seemed to end up next to each other when we hung out with our friends. When I got bored in class, he’d notice and start drawing comics on his notebook and sliding it toward me on our shared table trying to get me to laugh. He waited for me after class so we could eat lunch together. And sometimes he took candid pictures of me, somehow catching me at moments where I looked most relaxed and myself. 

We talked back and forth about our project until we reached the doors of Nueva Casa. We slid into opposing booth benches and sat across from each other, sandwiched between our group of friends. Mandy rushed to the counter and ordered more churros than there were people in our group and hurried back to pile into the booth with us. In no time the sleepy restaurant with few patrons was filled with laughter, teasing, and conversation from our loaded booth. 

Charlie and Brandon began calling each other out for their annoyances with each other as it’d been an especially taxing week for the two as roommates. Mandy and Bri were playfully jabbing Josh for his avoidance of his crush on our hall this week. Shannon, Murphy, and Dan were debating the upcoming election with fiery spirits. Matt noticed me watching everyone and smiled at me from across the table. 

“I want to know what’s going on inside of that mind of yours right now,” he nudged with friendly curiosity. 

I smiled at him playfully and raised my eyebrows while shrugging my shoulders. I contemplated sharing my thoughts with him but those thoughts were quickly gone when a heavenly aroma wafted through the place and a plate of steaming cinnamon sugary goodness appeared in the center of our table. More than a dozen fried doughy sticks completely covered in dazzling amounts of cinnamon sugar claimed our immediate attention as we all swarmed in for a taste of those delightful churros. 

I’m not quite sure what got into me but I spent the remainder of the evening doling my praises on the churro, my new favorite treat. Matt kept laughing at me from across the table with each new proclamation of devotion to the churro that spilled from my lips. Finally it was time to go, we bundled up and headed back out into the now foggy, chilly night. As we neared the girls dorm we started saying our goodbyes to the guys. Matt nudged me with his shoulder again and then made a “Pssst,” sound before quickly opening my hand and placing a napkin wrapped item in my palm. 

“The last churro,” he said with a wink. “I’ve never seen you get so excited over, well, pretty much anything,” he chuckled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. 

I looked at him and smiled, “Thanks, Matt, you’re awesome.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, don’t forget to bring your camera. We can try to get a few shots in for our project after lunch,” he said before turning and walking towards his dorm for the night.

“Goodnight Matt, see you tomorrow,” I said and hurried inside to warm up.

It was moments like this one that made me wonder if there was something more between us. The thought of it would sometimes poke in and out of my mind but I was quick to squash the idea. I was in a serious long-distance relationship with a guy from back home and was so terribly loyal and close-minded that I couldn’t bring myself to consider there could be other possibilities as an eighteen year old with a lot of life to live. 

I ended up leaving that college and those dear friends after just one semester - largely due to that long-distance relationship. I’d hear from Matt from time to time during the college years and later learned that he’d ended up with his long-time friend from home who he’d had a crush on over the years. “It just wasn’t ever the right time, we were always in a relationship with someone else when one of us liked the other,” he shared one night near the end of my time at the school with him. 

It turns out the timing finally did work out for the two of them and they were happily married last year. Freshman memories visit me from time to time when they’re conjured up by things like wooly mammoth caterpillars, Frank Lloyd Wright homes, uniquely housed coffee shops, and of course, the heavenly smell of churros. There’s a pang of sadness in my heart for that version of me years ago that left a really good situation for something less than. But mostly I’m filled with gratitude and happiness for what feels like years worth of good memories that spanned just one semester. 

As my mind drifts back to this fall day, surrounded by artisan tents, crowds of people, and now, the magical smell of churros, I find myself feeling a little more sympathy for my sweet niece who fears adding one more boy to the list of ones who got away. Allie bounds back down the path towards me and I wrap my arm around her shoulder as we continue walking the winding path. 

“Hey, I think we need some extra sweetness to our day...you want to share a churro?” I ask. 

“A what-o?!” she responds with a laugh. 

“Oh just you wait and see, you’re in for a treat,” I assure her and we head towards the tent with the trailing aroma of doughy fried goodness wrapped in cinnamon sugar.