Before - and Now

“Do you ever wonder if you made a mistake,” said the fresh-faced college girl to her mother. “I mean about marriage.”

Marci reflected that the Naples Soterranea was hardly the place for a conversation like this. The girl probably thinks she has privacy because she speaking English, not Italian. Talking about deeply personal things in Italy wasn’t truly that private. Most of the Italians in the tourist sections knew exactly what everyone was saying, plus, the group shuffling in the dimness included mostly English-speakers. 

Marriage? A mistake?

Marci smirked, and took a look at her own husband. The incredibly tall fellow with a chiseled jaw. Past his prime, by a decade, with a tiny hint of a paunch beginning to show. Physically, considering his age, she had to admit he left very little to be desired. Their sons claimed that dad still acted like a lovesick puppy around mom. It could be endearing – most of the time. Still, she let her mind drift back to college. The time before she met him. 

Her best friend had been a nondescript, yet amusing dude who had no illusions he would ever be an important person. She used to be so invisible. He used to be so comfortable. It was a perfect friendship. No demands, no expectations. Eddie. If he ever wanted to be important, he would’ve changed that to Edward. 

Now, shuffling on paths between Greek-hewn water cisterns the size of half her husband’s tennis court, she picked her favorite memories as if she could catch them in her hand like old photos.

Marci and Eddie. Her name always got to go first. They took a road trip to Maine on the crispest afternoon of autumn only to see if they could find the perfect nuts falling from trees. The sky crackled like deep blue taffeta. The air scraped at the insides of the noses almost aggressively, but then holding back a little. And, of course, there were heaps of fallen leaves . . .and none of them were soggy with rains. Crispness and nuts. That’s all they wanted. They found nuts all right, but mainly in the form of people who frequented the convenience stores.

They got dressed to go swimming for spring break in town because neither could afford to go to Mexico. When the public pool was closed, they found a storm drain, and dared each other to splash around in what was likely three parts water to one part sewage.

Eddie was the one who helped her understand her feelings as she was starting to love Bill. 

M“I just don’t get it. When I look at the two of us in a mirror, I’m so much plainer than him,” she said.

Eddie’s answer had been puzzling. “You never see your own face as you’re out in the world, though.”

Marci had shrugged and put his answer in some box in her brain labeled to-be-figured-out-later. Then, it was ignored for decades at a time.

They eBay shopped for each other’s wedding gifts, and neither one was offended to get a used book, or slightly dented tool. She liked his future wife immensely. There would never be jealousy there – Eddie had chosen a breathtaking beauty. How could Marci ever hope to compete? Even if she wanted to.

And, then, the husband Marci chose? For Eddie’s part, he told her thought Marci’s husband was a pretty good egg - and permanently transfixed with Marci, so , he had that going in his favor..

They eBay shopped for each other’s wedding gifts, and neither one was offended to get a used book, or slightly dented tool. She liked his future wife immensely. There would never be jealousy there – Eddie had chosen a breathtaking beauty. How could Marci ever hope to compete? Even if she wanted to.

And, then, the husband Marci chose? For Eddie’s part, he thought Marci’s husband was a pretty good egg. They could chat easily about sports, or stocks, or hiking trips. It would be the simplest thing in the world to join each other for picnics, as long as those incredibly attractive spouses didn’t suddenly remember they had married outside of their fashion levels, And fall for each other instead.

Life takes couples in new directions like leaves whisked from the top of a pile on a achingly perfect day. The ones who stayed behind helped their friends pack up the U-Haul and head for the coast because lucrative jobs beckoned for attractive people. Then, secondary friends who tugged less on the heart helped the laggards pack up their own U-Haul to go to a different coast for an even more exciting job prospect.

Christmas cards and Facebook gave way to the long void. Kids playing sports and climbing the academic ladder took up so much attention for a parent. Everybody implicitly knew that.

Marci sighed, and there was a tiny catch at the end. She had always had a hitch the end of a sigh - when she felt wistful. It never failed to annoy her husband, so her own sound, barely heard, was followed by the faintly audible snort. They had practiced breathing together for decades. All of it was familiar. The subtle opinions.

I heard of them, in the dimly lit room, the college girl had a father shuffling behind her. He glanced over his shoulder as if he recognized a sound - Marci’s wistfulness? He made that little chuckle. Low and gurgling – Marci used to call it like an almost-stopped sink trying to drain. Could it be? He turned more fully. Questioning.

Definitely not an Edward. It was that same guy in a T-shirt and worn but not shabby tennis shoes. This tunnel was too narrow and dim for Eddie to see her clearly, but Marci caught a full profile as he passed under a light. She held her breath. It was the only way to hide from Eddie. He knew her moods even better than her husband did. She missed the way that none of her moods ever irritated Eddie. 

The woman just in front of Eddie had obviously been that stunning bride with the unimaginable beauty all those years ago. As stunning as her daughter. With the passage of years, employment and children, compromises and complexities of life, she now looked . . . only as attractive as Marci herself. She made a very motherly response to every comment her daughter tossed over a shoulder. After the third tunnel, with intense listening, Marci discovered the girl was contemplating a marriage of her own. They would be meeting her fiancé at the airport directly after the tour, and the family seemed rushed.

A woman, nearly 10 years younger than Marci brushed … or jostled … past her while giving her the biggest piece of stink eye ever. She dragged her husband along behind her like a naughty toddler. Marci figured she had been over focusing on her eve shopping, again. She gave Bill an apologetic look. When she overfocused, she usually ignored him. That look of puppy dog love once again on his face. She had no idea why.

Bill enjoyed it when Marci revealed the difference between their levels of fitness. She had a thick emotional callus by now, in the spot where his ego rubbed against what he thought were her weaknesses. She easily shrugged off his moments of condescension. At the long set of stairs - the ones leading into the sunlight - she pretended she needed to catch her breath before going up. They allowed others in the tour group to climb past them. Bill gave her a smile, and rubbed her back, asking if she wanted some of his water. She shook her head.

Eddie would be the third person out at the top of the stairs. Marci tried with all of her might to concentrate on her feet making the ascent.

But she had to peek. She just had to.

He turned for one last awestruck look down the stairway, and their eyes – like fugitives - briefly connected.

Genuine delight suffused his face, and a soft glow of light from the entrance of the tunnel made him suddenly handsome. Or was it the years of experience that did it?

Marci allowed the connection to last just a half of a second more, and with her own impish grin gave him a wink. Her sigh of happiness was one that never bother Bill. Then with a quick jerk of her head she urged Eddie forward to support that precious daughter in her next steps through life.

Eddie, a few steps beyond her view, was just now emerging into the Naples sunlight.

Bill, hearing the contentment in her sigh, leaned down from that impossible height, brushed his lips on her cheek, and whispered, “Are you glad we came?”

Her own journey up the stairs only halfway complete, she rewarded her husband with a bright smile, to match the outside weather. She nodded, not trusting her voice. The dim lighting would camouflage her misty eyes.

By the time they made it into the sun, Marci’s moist eyes would be like every other set of eyes watering as they adjusted to the brilliance.