Twenty Seven Years

The man checked his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his paisley tie with withered hands that shook slightly with each movement. He reached for his suit jacket that was hanging neatly over the back of the chair in the corner. Arms through the sleeves before nervously brushing away non-existent wrinkles. Today is the day.  The man ambled to his tiny kitchen, his shined shoes squeaking with each step. The sound echoed through his tiny apartment as if announcing his intentions. A wrinkled hand filled the kettle and took a mug with a chipped rim from the overhead cupboard. The calendar on the fridge was flipped over to January and none of the days were yet crossed off as was the old man’s daily habit. The noise of boiling water quickly filled the silence. The noise was replaced by the smell of fresh tea.

“Today’s the day,” the man mumbled to himself, cupping the tea in his hands. “You can’t put it off any longer.”

His mind drifted back to that day twenty-seven years ago and the New Year’s resolution he made. The resolution he promised himself each year he would fulfill, but still had not. Here he was, twenty-seven long years later, knowing that this was his last day to go through with his long standing resolution.

As the man finished his tea and got ready to depart his home, he could feel that familiar anxiety creeping up on him. He tried to brush it away. He could not give in this time – he was not a young man anymore and he did not want to live another day with the weight of regret hanging on his shoulders. He steeled himself and walked out the front door. It was a chilly autumn day and the early morning sun gave off a feeble warmth that provided no comfort. The man climbed into his car, knees protesting as he did so.

His first stop was the florist on Main Street. It was still in business after all these years. The man made his way inside and was instantly surrounded by flowers and memories. Even after almost three decades, the man could still remember the first time he saw the woman with the red hair working behind the counter. She was so beautiful – the softest brown eyes, a contagious smile and that memorable red hair. How she had captured his attention all those years ago. He remembered the first jitters of going out for coffee (just as friends – he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable). How they had laughed and talked the day away. He had visited her at this very shop countless times, yet he never built up the courage to ask her out. They remained friends for a few years and then drifted apart, as people do. But he never could get her out of his head.

The man took a bouquet of sunflowers and roses – her favorite – and paid for it at the counter. She no longer worked here, hadn’t for years. But he had made a resolution all those years ago that he was going to tell her how he felt and today was finally the day he went through with it. The young cashier gave the man a friendly smile and asked him for whom the flowers were.

He looked down at the colorful flowers in his hands. “For a love I haven’t seen in a long time, my dear,” he replied.

The man’s next destination was much further away. The road was long and somber, winding first through the city and later through scenic landscape. The old car radio played softly in the background, but the man’s mind was too preoccupied with what lay ahead. He was nervous, of course, but a small part of him was relieved to finally be going through with this. For twenty-seven years he had not been able to get that woman out of his head. For twenty-seven years he had been too scared to tell her how he felt.

He turned onto a narrow road. Slowing down, he double checked the address his niece found for him online to the wrought iron one hanging outside. His heart raced. This is it. The driveway was rough, forcing the man’s driving to slow to a crawl. His hands were damp and white from clutching the steering wheel. An old farmhouse came into view. The car came to a standstill. The man wiped his palms on his handkerchief and glanced at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Would she even recognize him after all these years? He’s no longer the man he once was - thin grey hair replaced once thick auburn, wrinkles were painted on a once clear face.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” the man said to his reflection. Hard eyes stared back at him. He couldn’t walk away now.

He grabbed the bouquet from the passenger seat and got out of the car. The wind greeted him first, followed immediately by a fat dachshund that barked sharply at him. The dog followed the man as he made his way up the porch steps. He lifted his hand and took a stabling breath. Knock-knock. The dachshund sniffed at the man’s shoe and he tried to shoo it away with his foot.

A woman opened the door. The man stood frozen. She was still as beautiful as the day he last saw her. The years had graced her with soft grey curls, fine wrinkles and a calm aura.

“Richard?” the woman asked slowly, looking carefully at his face. She was drying her hands on her apron.

“Hello, Margaret.”

“What…” She seemed at a loss for words, a look of surprise on her face. “I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here?”

A wave of self-consciousness fell over Richard. He handed her the bouquet. “Margaret, I have something to confess.” He dared not meet her eyes for fear of rejection. “All those years ago I fell in love with you but I never had the courage to tell you how I felt. I promised myself each year that I would tell you and today is finally the day.”

An air of silence hung between them. After what felt like an eternity, Richard finally looked up. Margaret’s eyes sparkled with tears as she held the bouquet of flowers to her chest. She smiled at him and his heart skipped a beat.

“Does that mean I’ll finally get that date?”