Lost Love

Lost Love

It was a magnificent day outside. It sounds like a cliché but…the sun was shining, the birds were singing and I was over the moon! This was my wedding day. Well actually it was my second wedding day that I was about to have, but I didn’t really count the first one. I was too young, too naïve and too stupid to get married.

All my friends had made it quite clear to me from the day I introduced Trevor to them that I was making a big mistake. It wouldn’t last five minutes and I would regret  walking down the church aisle with my ailing father to stand next to an ignorant, egotistical and selfish idiot like the man I had said ‘yes’ to!

I did think, even after only a few dates, that the description of Trevor as given by my friends, and actually, come to think of it, most of my family too, was quite fitting. I knew what he was like but I was dazzled by him and as my dear old Gran used to say about her many suitors in her day, “it’s easy for them to pull the wool over yer eyes love”! Being six years my senior I was in awe of his worldliness and he was also very handsome, so that combination seemed to erase from my mind all the negatives, and I simply focused on the few, very few, positives about Trevor.

We went ahead with the wedding. A very cheap and cheerful wedding it was too. Well it was definitely cheap but not quite so cheerful for some. My sister made her stance on the matter at hand obvious as she cried off and on for almost the entire ceremony, and when it came to the part in the service where the guests are asked “Does anyone have any objections why Trevor and Jennifer shouldn’t wed?” I stood in front of the alter nervously chewing my fingernails and watching my sister, waiting for her to yell out “Yes, Trevor is a moron so don’t marry him”.

Even at the reception one of my friends, Irene found me on my own, in the loo, and was telling me very loudly and drunkenly “You’re a fool Jennifer, don’t say I didn’t warn you, I thought you had more sense” and then teetering off in her high heels she added “I just love the punch”. And I would think to myself “Well you must do as you’ve had most of it!”

They were all right though. The marriage didn’t last longer than ‘five minutes’. It lasted just over five months. Trevor had become bored with the whole thing, deciding that he would move out, grow his hair long and set off for ‘a distant place’ as he put it, to ‘find himself’! I wasn’t as devastated as I thought I would be. I was more disappointed that everyone could see from the start what was going to happen and I couldn’t. Or maybe deep down I knew but didn’t want to acknowledge it. Anyway I was grateful that we hadn’t tried to have children. I wouldn’t have been very good at looking after a baby as I sometimes had trouble looking after myself. Of course I was sad that he had gone and I was once again alone, but work, friends and fun have a way of putting a huge Band-Aid over your life until you are ready to take it off and let yourself face life again.

Trevor didn’t take long to “find himself”. It wouldn’t have been a difficult thing to do, he spent a lot of time looking in the mirror and admiring what he saw.

I did hear on the grapevine that he had ended up managing a fancy resort in Europe somewhere. I could just picture him – his chest all puffed up, in his suit, mingling with the rich and famous, pretending he had always lived that type of life. He would be buttering up the aging men, with their octogenarian heads covered in fake hair and brilliant white teeth shining like little squares of marble as they laughed and joked with the much younger and completely wrinkle free ‘companions’, who hung onto their arms , scared that if they let go all that money and travel would disappear.”  

I remembered how Trevor would sometimes tell me that he wanted to get away from the small minded town we lived in, with the small minded people; He said that he never wanted to end up like his dad. He called him ‘a boring little man who ran the boring little grocery store’. I remember telling him that he was rude and horrible and we had a big argument over it.

I had moved on – as one does. I put my marriage or as I called it ‘my mistake’ out of my mind and was determined to ‘smarten up’. I was just going to enjoy life and all it had to offer – after all I was only young.

I got fed up of my mother asking me “Are you going out tonight? Have you got a new fella?” If she thought she was giving good advice on how to enjoy life, I took no notice. I had a mother who still loved to flirt and act as if she was still young and single – well she was single but definitely not that young! I have to admit that she had a good figure and looked pretty good for her age (with a little help here and there from the cosmetic surgeon!), but the fact that SHE thought herself gorgeous didn’t give her the right to try and sort my life out.. “Are you going to do something with your hair love? Brighten yourself up – you’ll be surprised at how good a shampoo and blow-dry makes you feel”. She would say to me, all the while scrutinising my hair as if she could see little creatures standing and waving. “I’ve had my hair done before you know” I retorted. “Oh yes I know love, but if you’re trying to attract the men you might need to do something drastic with it”. “Mum, I’m not trying to attract any men”. I was angry now and she knew it but still she kept on going. “You can’t be on your own for ever you know. It isn’t right”. “I can be on my own for the rest of my life if I want to. It’s not that long since Trevor left and I’m happy to be single for as long as it takes. We’re not all like you”. The moment I said it, I regretted it. “What does that mean? My mother demanded, her voice starting to get shrill and botoxed her lips pursed and pouty as if she was deeply hurt and wanted to cry, when all she really wanted was attention.

My mother had a, shall we say, reputation for liking the men. That’s the only way I can put it. She left my dad when I was young to be with his best mate. That only lasted a couple of years until she grew tired of Johnny. Then it was Andy. He was the one that left but my mother sees it differently of course! It wasn’t until I was much older, in high school that I found out Andy had come home one day to discover my mother and a travelling salesman in a rather compromising position. My mother had always told me that Andy had run off with a barmaid! Anyway dear Andy had turfed the salesman out of the house, his black vinyl folder with all the tweeds, calico, velvet, and canvas samples pulled apart and roughly shoved into the car along with him. Not long after that, Andy left too.

She couldn’t help herself. I knew that I would never be like her. So hence the reason that she was really getting on my nerves with her “You need a man”. Absolute rubbish I did!

When you don’t think you want to meet somebody, you always do!

I met Paul, of all places, in the optometrist shop where I worked as a receptionist. I’ve never believed in ‘love at first sight’ (pardon the pun) but after Paul walked into the shop, I thought there might be something to that.

Paul was a bit of a smooth talker but I found this amusing. “Was having beautiful eyes a part of the job description to work here?” his silky smooth voice said. “Pardon” I replied, thinking that I hadn’t really heard what he had said. “Your eyes are the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen – like deep pools of liquid chocolate”. “Really” I stammered, quite embarrassed as the previous customer was waiting at the counter to pay her bill and was watching and listening as intently as if she was witnessing a crime unfold and she might be called upon to give evidence later!

“Mr Jacobs?” I asked him, still blushing from his comments. “Yes I’m Paul Jacobs . I have a 2.30 appointment, but I might cancel”. “Are you going to cancel?” I enquired, feeling a little confused now. “Well I think I can see perfectly well after the vision of loveliness I have encountered”. “Oh” was all I could say. “Mr. Friedman is ready for you now, straight through that door, and I pointed the way”.

The previous customer completed paying, and said “Thankyou”, but after walking towards the main door, turned around and advised me….“I wouldn’t go out with that one if I was you love, you couldn’t trust him, not with all that rubbish he was spouting”. With that she pulled her hat firmly down on her head before heading outside, and was gone. “Just like Gran used to tell me” thought Jennifer with a chuckle to herself.

“There’s something really nice about him” Jennifer thought to herself, sitting at the desk and sipping the tea she had just made. “Now if he was to ask me out, I might just go”. She had only been out on a few dates since her marriage finished but nothing serious and definitely no one who caught her attention like this guy! She couldn’t believe how quickly the time had passed. “It’s nearly three years since Trevor had gone. Time really does fly when you’re having fun” she mused.

With that last thought the door to the eye testing room opened and out walked ‘Mr handsome”! He looked at Jennifer with a cheeky grin on his face and quipped “I knew my eyesight was perfect when I saw you, and it’s just been confirmed!  Now I can also see from your name badge that you are Jennifer. So, Jennifer, would you like to meet for a coffee after you have finished work for the day?” I couldn’t believe how brazen and forward he was, but I liked him, so I accepted the offer, and we met.

That was the start of our relationship. Paul was fun. He made me laugh with his banter. My family all took to him – my sister being happy that I had at last found another man! My mother loved him! “He is so handsome and cute” she would say to me. “Cute…I’m not sure that’s the right word to describe him. He’s not a baby Mum, he might have a baby face but he’s actually eight years older than me”. “Well I really like him”. My friends welcomed him into their fold – and seemed to think we made a great couple – except my best friend Liz. “I don’t know Jennifer, he is really easy to get along with but he’s a bit of a flirt don’t you think?’ she asked me over lunch one day after Paul and I had been going out for about six months. “It’s just him. There’s nothing in it when he flirts. Paul’s an overly friendly guy, that’s all. I trust him completely”. I told her.  “Well if you trust him then that’s all that matters Jen. I promise I won’t bring the subject up again. Let’s just enjoy our lunch”.

As we were saying our ‘goodbye’s’ I could tell that Liz had something else to say – I knew from the way she was looking at me and biting her lip at the same time. “Go on Liz, say whatever it is that’s on your mind”. “Ok I do have something to ask you, but only because I’m your friend and don’t want to see you hurt again. Believe me, this is really difficult and i hope it doesn’t cause a rift between us Jen” she awkwardly said. “For goodness sake, just say it. It can’t be that bad or have you seen Paul on a ‘singles site’?” I laughed.  Liz spoke without looking directly at me. “I was wondering if you found it weird that your mum and Paul seem to flirt a lot with each other. She always touches him. Not inappropriately or anything but on his neck and face. If that was my mother I wouldn’t like it - that’s all”. Liz exhaled as if she wanted to blow the words she had just spoken as far away as possible. “Oh that. You’d be shocked if your Mum did it because she’s normal! My Mum thinks she’s my sister. Believe me; Paul just plays along with her.  He’s just being nice. It means nothing”. Liz’s shoulders relaxed slightly knowing she hadn’t offended me. “I thought it was something serious!” I teased her. I’ll call you during the week”. She didn’t say anything, just smiled. And with that we went our separate ways.

Life was good. I felt that the decisions I made now were because I knew it was the right thing to do, so when Paul asked me to marry him I didn’t hesitated in saying ‘yes’. We went out together and bought an engagement ring.

I did have a few provisos though and the first one was ‘no church’. “I’ve been there and done that once” I told him. All I wanted was a simple ceremony, a few friends and family there, and afterwards a great big party. My sister had an ideal back garden. There was enough space to say our “I do’s’ in front of the celebrant and guests and more than enough lawn for the marquee. This time I wasn’t going to be squashed into a tight white tube of a wedding dress  either, and I wasn’t having hair stiffened with enough hairspray to damage the ozone layer – no, I was wearing a loose fitting, softly draped dress and sandals, with my hair flowing freely. I was excited!

My wedding day was here – again. But this time I was a different person.  I was doing this for the right reasons. I was too young when I married Trevor and couldn’t see him for what he was. Maybe it was because I was so infatuated with him. Anyway that seemed like a lifetime ago and this time it was different. I was ready to have children and knew that I would be a good mother, that I would put my children before myself, unlike my mother. But I wasn’t going to focus on that. This was my special day and I didn’t want to think of things from my past that could spoil it.

My Dad had passed away not long after my first marriage but I could feel his presence, his arm around my shoulder, and hear his whispering voice in my ear that he loved me and was happy for me.

I wandered across the soft green grass and stood in front of the arbour. Large heads of pink roses stood tall, giving off an intoxicating perfume. Other smaller flowers bowed their heads in the warm sunshine.

There was a gentle murmur as guests took their places in the seats and chatted quietly. I greeted my friends and family already seated, as I walked past them. I didn’t know if I should stand up at the front of the arbour yet or not. It wasn’t a formal walking of the bride up the aisle so it didn’t really matter. The marriage celebrant came over to me and asked if everything was alright because we were late starting. I looked at my watch and realised that we should have started the ceremony five minutes ago. Looking around I couldn’t see Paul but when I asked if anyone had seen him they assured me that he was definitely here, so I should just relax.

I couldn’t relax! I walked quickly across the lawn back to the house and into the large dining room. “Paul” I called out a couple of times. There was no answer. I walked through the house and into the kitchen. All was quiet, which is what I expected as surely everyone was seated by now. I poked my head around the corner of the doorway and froze. I felt physically sick and thought I might vomit. The sour taste in my watery mouth rose in a wave and then gradually subsided. “Just breathe slowly” I instructed my shocked self.

Straight ahead and with their backs to me were Paul and my mother. He had his arms around her tiny waist and she had her arms around his neck. They were locked in a passionate embrace, so engrossed that they hadn’t even heard me come to the entrance of the room. I could hear a slight smacking noise and then a long ‘mmmmm’.

For a fleeting second I thought of how right my friend Liz had been ……and all I could think was that I had been embarrassed and humiliated by the man I was supposed to marry and my own mother.

I stepped back into the hall, taking off my engagement ring and dropping it into my sister’s emerald green bowl on her coffee table I walked outside into the sunshine.