Thomas Wolfe Was Right

Thomas Wolfe was Right

Mitch pulled the small stack of envelopes from his mail box. He glanced at the junk mail while he thumbed through final notice on offers he could not possibly refuse and stopped on a cursive, hand written envelope that resembled calligraphy.

It was from Lauren, the petite beauty with the pixie haircut. She had been the love of his life for the past 40 years, although he had not seen or heard from her in 25.

Mitch could not contain his excitement as he walked back into the house. He laid the insignificant mail on his office desk among bills and a to-do list which he chose to ignore. He walked over to his living room couch and with slightly trembling hands opened his letter from Lauren. The letter was one page, short and sweet, typical of Lauren. It read, “Mitchell, oh what joy, you have found me. I have pondered what you have been up to all these years and wondered if I would ever see you again. BTW, thank you for sending me that beautiful poem you wrote for me years ago. I couldn’t find my copy. I can’t believe you still had a copy? You are such a talented writer. Please continue to write me. Love Lauren.”

Lauren always referred to Mitch as Mitchell. She thought Mitch sounded too punkish for someone she felt was so mature and intelligent. Even though Mitch was only three years older than her, she imagined him older due to his gentlemanly manners. As he held the letter in his hand, Mitch reflected on how they met. It was 1982, the annual Cal-Stanford game that would become the icon of games for years to come. With seconds to go and Stanford leading by one point, a squibbed kickoff was picked up and after several laterals, Kevin Moen of Cal crashed through a Stanford band member in the end zone for a touchdown. Mitch was one of the thousands of Cal fans and students who leapt onto the field in celebration. It was during the jubilee that he caught his first glimpse of Lauren.

Through his eyes, Lauren stood out as if she were some great masterpiece in a secluded room in an art gallery where only she was displayed. He was captivated by her soft features and kind eyes. Her cropped hair was reminiscent of Dorothy Hamill in the 70s, but less of a wedge. She was petite although not entirely fragile. She was Venus rising. It was a Botticelli moment. He lost sight of her as she was caught up in the swarm of chaos on the field and vanished from view. He made his way through the mob scene, and headed back to the Delta Chi house, never expecting to see her again.

That night the Deltas were having a huge victory party at the frat house. The suds were flowing like the American River after a hard rain. There were a number of Omega girls there; they were a sister sorority to the Deltas. Mitch was not much of a drinker, he could make a couple of drinks last all night whether it was beer, liquor, or wine. He had to rub his eyes and slap his cheeks when he saw who was coming into the game room of the house, it was Lauren.

Mitch immediately stood up and went to great her. “Good evening, my name is Mitch. I haven’t seen you before, are you an Omega?”

“That’s my sister over there. I’m down from Denver for the weekend enjoying my first time to the Bay Area. I’m staying at the Omega house.”

 “Would you like me to get you something to drink?”

“A beer would be nice.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Mitched reached behind the nearby couch and opened up the cooler. “Is Bud ok?”

“Bud will be fine,” she replied. “So is this gentleman thing a ruse or do you always act like this?”

“No ma’am, no act. This is the way my mother raised me, she’s from Tennessee.”

“Are you from the south?”

“No ma’am, I’m from The City, born and bred in San Francisco.”

Lauren smiled, “You can drop the ma’am, sir. It makes me feel old.”

They continued their small talk for several minutes. Lauren sipped her beer while Mitch was holding his.

“How long are you here?” asked Mitch.

“I fly back to Denver on Monday.”

“Any chance I can see you tomorrow for lunch or something?”

“Boy you move fast. I’ll have to see what my sister has planned.”

“I didn’t mean to sound forward, but time is short and I do so want to see more of you, if it’s all right with you.”

“It’s alright. I would like to get to know you better. Is Mitch short for anything?”

“It’s short for Mitchell. I’m a senior in electrical engineering; I graduate in June. Believe it or not, I do have a sensitive side, I write poetry. There, you know all about me.”

“Mitchell, I like that. I think it suits you more. Maybe you can write a poem for me.”

“That’s possible. I must say, you are inspiring. Are you a student at University of Colorado?”

“Actually, I’m a student of the world, hopefully pursuing a modeling career or possibly acting. Currently I’m studying you. Uh oh, my sister is waving to me. Gotta go. Call me at Omega tomorrow.” Lauren headed towards the front door. “You won’t forget will you?”

“No, I won’t forget.” The front door closed behind them and Mitch kept staring as if he could see right through it.

Mitch and Lauren remained friends after the college years. Mitch gave Lauren away at her wedding and they kept in contact with each other after the wedding and divorce.  Mitch flew to Denver as often as he could just to be with her. One year she was in a terrible auto accident that almost killed her. He spent his two weeks vacation taking care of her and her daughter Janelle. They were best friends; they supported each other, and leaned on each other. Finally Mitch could not take it any longer. He was so in love with her. He proposed. Lauren said she would think about it. Mitch had to fly home to San Francisco and get back to work. He waited for a few days to hear from her, but no response. After a week, he made a phone call to a disconnected number. Then he wrote a letter that was returned, “Not at this address”.  

He played around with the advancements in technology: specifically applications and social media. He tried them all but found nothing. Finally, he came across a site: ‘We Find Them’. He paid for a membership and got an address in Hawthorne, CA. He wrote her a letter hoping it would find her. A couple months and he came up empty. He was sure it was a bust, until today, when he got her reply.

Mitch immediately wrote Lauren a reply telling her he would be coming to see her in two weeks. He included his cell phone, social media, and email in the letter so she could contact him. He then booked a flight, hotel, and car rental.

When Mitch got off the plane in Long Beach he was filled with excitement, anxiety and trepidation. He hadn’t heard from Lauren since he told her he was coming. He was hoping he would get another letter or at least a text with her phone number. He had her address but he did not want to go out to Hawthorne and cold call her without warning. Within an hour he checked into his hotel, had his laptop setup and connected to the Wi-Fi. He quickly checked his email, nothing from Lauren. He logged into Facebook to check on his posts. He plowed through the usual political rantings of so-called friends and pictures of what other people were eating for lunch. He thought it all so mundane. He noticed he had a new friend request from Janelle Blodgett King. She had an appealing profile picture, but Mitch figured it was just another beautiful girl using her looks to scam an old man. He noticed something odd about the name but wasn’t quite sure what. Blodgett, that was it! That was Lauren’s married name. And Janelle, that was her daughter’s. Mitch quickly accepted the request.

It was only a matter of minutes when Mitch got an instant message from Janelle. “Mitchell, my mom is so excited to see you. She doesn’t know where she put your letters. Please send me your phone and email. God bless you for accepting my request.”

Janelle also included hers and Lauren’s phone numbers. Mitch entered both numbers into his phone. In minutes his phone rang, the contact display read Lauren. Mitch stared at the name as it rang a second time. He answered in an almost stuttering voice, “Lauren?”

“Mitchell,” was the soft response on the other end. There was a pause, then Mitchell spoke. “Lauren, it is really you? I can’t believe it, you still sound the same. I would know your voice anywhere.”

“Let’s not waste time on the phone, how soon can you get here?”

“I’m twenty minutes away, provided traffic is moving.”

“Great, I’ll see you then.” Lauren hung up.

The traffic gods on the 710 and 105 were kind. Mitch made it to Hawthorne in record time thanks to the weight of his right foot. The Hawthorne neighborhood was a bit run down. Stores with barred up windows and graffiti were commonplace. Mitch’s GPS guided him to a rudimentary complex with less than ample parking. He was fortunate to find a spot. There was no security, no call in from the lobby, just a single elevator and stairs. Mitch took the elevator, he didn’t feel like walking up three flights. As he approached apartment number 325, the door began to open slowly before he could knock and there stood Lauren.

No longer the prized beauty whose affections he tried in vain to win. She was a middle aged woman with crow’s feet and sunken cheeks. Her black, dyed hair exposed the hoary roots that were begging to break through at the center. Her bangs covered whatever wrinkles there were upon her forehead. She was lean, almost to the point of malnourished, but it did not faze Mitch. All he saw was the woman he had loved for over 40 years.

Mitch took a step forward into a small kitchen. Lauren draped her arms around his neck and kissed him on his mouth. “I can’t believe you are here standing in my apartment. Would you like a beer?”

“Beer sounds fine, I’ll just sit over here on the couch if that’s ok.” The apartment was a small one bedroom with a kitchen, bathroom, laundry room, living area with a television and a tiny balcony. The walls were set off with artwork which spoke of class and the furniture was well fashioned. Lauren brought over two beers and sat next to Mitch on the couch.

“I’ll bet I’m not what you expected to see.”

“Nonsense. You sound exactly the same, with your angel voice. I love the longer hair look and your makeup and clothes say Lauren. You are all I hoped you would be.”

“Yes, my hair is longer and yours is shorter.” She laughed. “Mitchell, you can see I’ve fallen on tough times. I’ve made some mistakes. I no longer own a home, have a job, car or money. The government and my daughter are the only things keeping me alive. But look at you, Mr. Successful, tell me all about how you’ve made it.”

“I don’t know about that. Let us just say I’ve been lucky and blessed. Excuse me, but I have to ask, are you ill?”

“Is it that obvious?” Lauren lowered her head.

“No, just a feeling I had. Your movements seemed slow and unsure.”

“You are too perceptive. Yes, I am not well. I have severe arthritis and have had a couple of tumors removed from my breast.”

“What’s the prognosis?”

“Well with chemo, radiation, tissue removal, biopsies, and possible mastectomy, I’d say fifty-fifty. The pain comes and goes. I have good days and bad days. With the arthritis, some days can be excruciating. Come with me into the bathroom for a moment.”

They got off the couch and went into the bathroom. Lauren pulled a large pill bottle out of her medicine chest. She unscrewed the cap and showed Mitch four marijuana cigarettes.

“I take them for the pain. It’s all legal here as you know. What do you think? For old times’ sake?”

“Why not?”

Lauren did the honors and lit one. The aroma was a familiar one. They passed the blunt back and forth and soon they were down to a roach. Lauren put it out and they went back to the couch.

“Mitchell, what’s your favorite memory about us.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mind is sketchy on a lot of details due to pain killers. I have trouble remembering.”

“Well one of my favorites is when we went to see the movie ‘The Bodyguard’. Do you remember?”

“No tell me about it.”

“Oh you must remember, it has our song, ‘I’ll Always Love You’.”

Lauren spoke to a speaker on top of the credenza in the room. “Alexa, play ‘I’ll always Love You’.”

Whitney Houston’s gentle voice started out soft and slow. Lauren stood up and slurred, “I remember now.” She held out her arms to Mitch. “Dance with me Mitchell.”

Mitch stood up and took her by the hand and placed his arm around the small of her back. Lauren put her head on his shoulder as they slowly shuffled across the living room floor.

“I remember now. I also remember what a good dancer you are. I’m a bit wobbly as you can see. Kiss me Mitchell, kiss me and hold me. Make me fall in love with you all over again.”

When the song ended, Mitch helped Lauren back to the couch. Mitch drew close to Lauren’s face and looked deep into her eyes, “You were in love with me? I don’t understand. Why didn’t you accept my proposal and why did you disappear? “

Tears began to swell in her eyes. “Oh, Mitchell,” she hesitated, her voice cracked. “I didn’t want to hurt you, it was just that I loved you so much. You were my best friend and I saw what marriage could do to couples who were once in love and later ended up hating each other. I wasn’t willing to take that chance. I wanted it to be just like it is now, in love now and forever and just having fun together. I didn’t have the courage to face you and say no. I packed up Janelle and the few things I had and took off for Los Angeles.”

“I don’t know what to say, I really don’t.”

Mitch saw Lauren every day that week. He took her grocery shopping, to the opera, the beach and anywhere she wanted to go. He smoked with her when she wanted to smoke and drank with her when she wanted to drink. He was hopelessly in love and knew nothing would come of it. He remembered Lauren saying she did not want to be loved as much as she wanted to be understood. Mitch felt he understood her at last.

Upon arriving at the airport, Mitch thought of all the events of the past week. He thought it had been the greatest week of his life and at the same time the most heartbreaking. He gathered his bag from the carousel and walked out to catch the airport bus where he saw a young couple in a tight embrace and kissing. They started to let go of each other and then clung to each other even tighter than before. Mitch had been staring at them when the boyfriend looked up and noticed Mitch.

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

“No I’m terribly sorry. I meant no disrespect. You see I was just remembering what it was like to be in love.”