The Face of Amy

June 1977

Twenty-one year old Amy Morgan walked down the produce aisle of the grocery store, the lights reflecting off her long, dark hair. As she was turning over an orange in her hand, a dark-haired man of about twenty-five approached her.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Miss” the man began nervously, “but, well…do I know you?”

Amy was used to men and their pick up lines, but this one truly exasperated her. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.” She went back to her oranges.

But this guy was persistent. “I know what this must sound like. I’m David Bentley. I live in town,” he was struggling to find words. “I’ve seen you. I mean, I’ve seen you here. Around town.”

Amy watched as David Bentley from around town turned redder than the beets she had moved onto in the produce department.

“It’s nice meeting you, David. But I really have to get my shopping done. I’m pressed for time. Maybe we’ll see each other again sometime. You know, um, around town.”

David turned an even deeper shade of scarlet. In one more desperate attempt, David asked, “Whats your name?”

“My name is Amy,” she said simply, “and I have to go now.”

Turning, the young woman wheeled her shopping cart away, leaving David Bentley staring after her.

* * * * * * * * *

July 1960

It was a bright summer day. Little Amy Morgan was splashing in the water of the town beach with glee. Her father was building a sandcastle for his 4-year-old daughter to add on to when she finished splashing around with her toddler neighbor, Annie Croft. Annie’s mother was watching both girls carefully, putting her own feet in the water, despite the capri pants she wore in place of a bathing suit.

“Come on, kids!” Mrs. Croft was saying now. It’s time to get out of the water.” Groaning and whining, the two children grudgingly each took one of Sylvia Croft’s hands as she led them to the sandy beach. Walking over to Walter Morgan, Sylvia told him how happy she was that his family had moved into the neighborhood last month. Her daughter Annie was three and hadn’t many playmates. “And on a more selfish level, I’m really glad to have met Monica. Your wife has been the first real friend I’ve had in years,” she added with a smile.

Mr. Morgan, who purposely didn’t correct Sylvia about his “wife”, returned the smile. “I’m so happy we moved to such a nice neighborhood myself. Amy’s been lonely for a friend and she and Annie are already thick as thieves.” Then he added, “And of course Monica’s thrilled to have made a friend so quickly. She talks about you all the time.”

The girls were shrieking in delight as they poured water over the newly formed castle. All four beach goers watched as the structure melted down, much to the children’s amazement.

By now it was time for lunch and Walter and Amy Morgan were meeting the presumed Mrs. Morgan at the local café. The two parent-child pairs went their separate ways and Amy turned to her father, “I want to go home, Daddy,” she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Amy,” her father said gently, “we are home.”

* * * * * * * * *

June 1977

After bringing in the groceries and following a delicious trip to the local ice cream parlor, Amy sat down to contemplate the day’s events. It was a simple, pleasant afternoon, but that one meeting was bothering her. Why was that man - David - so insistent about knowing her? He seemed to be nice enough and, to be fair, he had also seemed genuine. Being young and beautiful, Amy was used to lots of male attention. At first, she’d chalked this encounter up to that. Just another typical, unoriginal conversation started in the hopes of something more. But his energy felt different. Picking up a book, Amy decided to forget all about it.

* * * * * * * * *

July 1960

Lilia Bentley was frantically pacing back and forth in her small kitchen. The yellow walls seemed to be closing in on her.

When her husband left with that woman, Monica, she’d been glad. Good riddance, she’d thought, and good luck with that cheap, blonde airhead.

Any satisfaction she had felt about Walter’s departure disappeared the day he picked their daughter Amy up from school…and kept on driving.

Where had he and that floozy taken her four-year-old? Was she safe? How would she find her?

Just then, David bounded into the kitchen. “Mom, when will Amy be home? I want to show her my new toy airplane!” The enthusiasm of her seven-year-old son nearly broke Lilia’s heart, but she knew she had to keep it together for both their sakes.

“Davey, Amy’s just with Daddy for awhile. She’ll see your airplane in a few days when she’s back.” Swallowing back tears and forcing a smile for the sake of her older child, Lilia asked, “Would you like to show me your new plane while we’re waiting?

* * * * * * * * *

June 1977

Upon David’s return from his afternoon outing, he wondered again about the woman he’d seen around town. There was something so familiar about her, but he couldn’t quite pin down what it was. He was sure she was significant in some way and equally certain that he knew her. He’d first seen the raven-haired beauty in the town’s five and dime. They had crossed paths again at the lunch counter of the local snack bar. And now today at the market. She’d recognized David, too. He could see it in those familiar almond eyes. For some reason, though, she didn’t want to admit it…even to herself.

* * * * * * * * *

August 1961

A storm was looming and the house darkened significantly as Lilia called Davey inside. He came running in, ruddy cheeked and happy as his mother scooped him up in her arms.

“Want to bake cookies since we’re inside for the rest of the day?”

Without hesitation, Davey shouted, “Hooray!” and raced for the baking pantry.

Lilia noticed that he didn’t ask about Amy anymore.

* * * * * * * * *

June 1977

Lilia rang the bell of David’s small Cape for her weekly visit with her son. He opened the door almost immediately and helped her bring in the goodies she’d baked for after dinner.

“Mom, I’m making a spectacular chicken dish in white wine sauce tonight.”

“That sounds delicious, Davey! Have you made it before?”

David laughed, “Actually…no. But I know it’ll be spectacular!”

“You’re a fantastic cook,” his mother said affectionately. “I really can’t wait. But since we do have to wait for it to cook, let’s sit down and catch up.”

They sat on the couch and David was wondering if he should bring up the girl, Amy, he’d been puzzling over so hard. He figured if anyone could help him with a problem it would be his mother. He was trying to figure out how to broach the subject when he looked at Lilia’s face. The dark, almond shaped eyes. The curve of her smile. Even the expression she made. It was crazy, but they all reminded him of Amy.

“Uhh, Mom?” David wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to say. Lilia looked at him expectantly. “You see, well…I know someone who looks like you. Or, uh, I mean…I don’t actually know her, but I’ve seen her. But I feel like I know her.”

David’s rambling caught his mother off guard. It wasn’t like him to get so flustered over a girl.

He continued. “Mom, have you ever felt like you know someone, but just don’t know how or why? I mean, it makes no sense, but this girl Amy…”

Lilia froze. She looked as though she’d seen a ghost.

“Mom?” David was waving a hand in front of her face.

“Oh. Sorry, Davey. Did you say the girl who resembles me is named Amy?”

“Yes.”

“And how old would you say she is? Do you know?” his mother was staring straight ahead while directing her questions.

“Oh, I’d say maybe nineteen or twenty.” Looking at his mother’s unnerved expression, he sensed that something very serious was happening beneath the surface. “Mom?”

Trembling, Lilia turned to David and asked him if he remembered his childhood. The part when his father was around. He admitted that he didn’t. He had blocked it all out and it was like a blank, mysterious canvas to him.

Slowly, Lilia lifted her macramé purse and took out a wallet. Gingerly, she opened it to the photo part and slid one carefully out of its sleeve. Handing it to David, all she said was, “Amy.”

* * * * * * * * *

June 1977

It was unlike Amy to fixate on things, but that was exactly what she was doing. The meeting with the young man wasn’t as easy to dismiss as she’d previously thought. The feeling that she knew him grew stronger and stronger. She decided to write down his name to see if it helped her figure this out. DAVID BENTLEY, she wrote on a piece of notebook paper. It didn’t quite ring a bell and yet at the same time…it sounded vaguely familiar. She took out her junior high and high school yearbooks (all from different towns since her family was always moving) and scoured every page of them. No David Bentley in any of them. As she skimmed the pages, she saw her younger self. Her father’s live-in lady friend was a hairdresser who seemed to dislike the natural look. Amy’s hair was cut in a bob and dyed red until her senior year, when she finally rebelled. Coming back to the present, she sighed as she pondered what to do next.

* * * * * * * * *

June 1977

Taking the picture, David studied it and saw a small girl of about three or four years old. She had long, brown curly hair and dark brown eyes. “Aww, Mom. Is this you?”

“In a way.” She hesitated before finally blurting out, “You really don’t remember her?”

“Remember who?”

“AMY! Your sister!” Lilia was becoming hysterical in a way Davey had never seen before.

“I don’t have a…” Suddenly, all the color drained from David’s face. A hazy vision of a little boy with a new airplane that he couldn’t wait to show to… “No! I can’t believe it!” He couldn’t quite remember clearly, but another faint image came to his mind. He was running through a backyard with another child. “You’re it!” she gleefully laughed. David studied the photo once more. He traced the image of the hair, whispering, “Amy.” Years of memories were unlocking, blanks filling in with each new recollection. Still only bits and pieces, but it was more than enough to bring out a terrifying question, “What happened to her, Mother?”

“When your father ran off with that woman, he took Amy with them. No one was ever able to find any trace of them. I imagine he changed their name; he was so manipulative. I allowed you to forget, to heal. I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing, Davey.”

“Oh, Mom,” Davey had tears streaming down his face. No clear thoughts would form in his mind. All he felt was pain.

* * * * * * * * *

June 1977

The feeling of desperation was growing stronger with each passing minute. Amy had to find David Bentley. She was sure now that something had drawn her to this town and that somehow it involved David. Her gut told her so.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, her bell-bottoms flaring out on the shag carpet, she took out the local phone book. Amy immediately found three listings for Bentley, David. Picking up her rotary phone, she decided to call each one…

* * * * * * * * *

Two hours later, Amy got up to answer her door. Standing in front of her, was what looked like a carbon copy of herself, only older. It was Lilia, and standing beside her was David Bentley. Her brother. Her mother held a bouquet of flowers and David had two large pizzas in his arms, hot steam escaping from the boxes.

“Come in, come in!”

The reunion was something none of the trio would ever forget. Photographs, memories and special moments filled their evening. Years of unspoken words were expressed as the newly united family members gathered. It would take time to get used to this new life. But the future looked very bright indeed.

As Amy Morgan Bentley recounted her supermarket story to her mother, she looked at her brother and laughed, “Yes, David. You DO know me!”