Once Upon Another Time (18 page)

“It’s being in
charge of supervising the business aspect of the construction project.  A lot
of it is overseeing contract activities on the jobsite itself, like being in
constant communication with the owner and architect.  Plus there’s the
estimating, budgeting and scheduling the crew...things like that.”

“Sounds like lots
of things to juggle at one time.”

“Well, I’m pretty
good at being organized.”

“Hmm, I’m
impressed.  You’re only the second man I’ve ever met who claimed to be
organized.”

“Is that so?” 
Gavin shot me a curious look.

“I’m sorry.  I
meant that as a compliment.”

“Really?  So who
was the other guy who as you put it ‘claimed to be organized’?”

I paused and
cleared my throat.  “My husband,” I muttered awkwardly.  From my peripheral
vision, I saw Gavin nod just as I nonchalantly asked, “So, what are some of the
projects you’ve been in charge of?”   

“Well, with all
the urban revitalization and sustainability to conserve and beautify instead of
bulldoze, we restore a lot of old buildings around the city, especially
downtown.  You know where the old Brandoff building is located?”

“I do, it’s the
beautiful four-story Art Deco building that’s now a bank.”

“That was the
latest building I worked on.”

“Beautiful
restoration job.”  

“Thanks.”

“There’s a story
to that building,” I said.  “A little hole in the wall coffee shop called
Hamlet’s used to occupy one of the storefronts.  My parents used to bring me
there in the early eighties.  I especially remember the “coffeehouse poets.” 
Apparently, the owner of the coffee shop used to be the head of some Jesus
movement in the early seventies.  The way my parents tell it, one day the owner
disappeared and no one ever heard from him again.  I guess it was quite the
mystery back in the 80s.”

“Interesting, I’d
never heard that story.”

“You probably
wouldn’t have unless your parents had frequented the establishment back then. 
But it is a coincidence that I’m sitting with the man who helped restore that
building.” 

“It is,” he said,
as we merged into heavy downtown traffic.  Scads of people were walking in all
directions, trolley bells clanged, and traffic was heavy as Gavin downshifted.  I
turned to study his face.  He seemed like an old familiar song. 

“Hope you don’t
mind if I drop you off,” he said, as he slowed the truck to a stop and
double-parked in front of my office building.  “I have to check on a project on
Courtland Street.”

“Of course not.” 
As I went to open the door, Gavin caught my arm.  I turned to look back at him.

“I know I asked
you this that night at the restaurant, but are you sure we haven’t met before? 
You just seem so very familiar.”

As I stared into
his expressive blue eyes, I thought, if only he knew, when I suddenly recalled
the dream I’d woken up from that morning.  The dream in which Matt whispered,
“You’ll find me when you look into his eyes.”

“Well, we do work
in the same building,” I said.  I turned away from his gaze to pick my
briefcase up off the floor, while hoping my confused expression wasn’t
noticeable.

“Listen...”  Gavin
turned to look straight ahead.  His left hand gripped the steering wheel, his
other hand rested on the stick shift.  “I was thinking that maybe you’d like to
go to dinner sometime.”

“Like a date?” 

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, I don’t
know, I--”

“Please don’t say
no.  I know it sounds crazy, and please don’t think I’m some kind of stalker, but
I’ve been thinking about you ever since our chance meeting at the restaurant.”

I wondered to
myself what the chances were of all these coincidental things happening
followed by the thought of Miss Universe from the mall.  A picture of her long,
lustrous auburn hair cascading down her back in a perfect U shape flashed in my
head. 

“I’m sorry,” Gavin
said, as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.  “I never bothered to ask
if you have a steady guy or maybe your law firm has a policy about not dating
clients.” 

I made an
indistinct coughing sound, while my fingers glided across the top of my leather
briefcase.  “No, I don’t have a steady guy and technically your father’s my
client.”

“Great!  Then
you’ll consider going out to dinner?”

Gavin looked at me
hopefully, his eyes searching mine, while my stomach balled into a knot.  After
all those grueling years of dating, meeting Gavin, which short of the day I
married Matt and the day I gave birth to Nicholas--oh, and the day I discovered
Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey--was extraordinary. 

Blaring car horns
behind us forced me to stammer out a quick, “Um, I’m sorry…I can’t.  Thanks for
the ride,” I said and quickly stepped out of the truck.  His stare at me
lingered, as I closed the door.

Once I was back in
my office, I wanted to cry.  All I could think about was how I’d yelled at Matt
that morning he died.  How could I have done that?  It really was my fault that
he died.  I sat down at my desk and dropped my head in my hands.  Granted, Matt
went jogging religiously every morning, but he might have paid more attention
had I not forced him to storm out of the room after shouting at him to leave me
alone. 

“Aubrey, what the
hell!” 

I lifted my head
out of my hands to see Laura shoot into my office.  Her diamond stud earrings
caught the light and sparkled brightly against her pink earlobes.

“What is going
on?” she said, as she threw her hands in the air.  “You grabbed my extra pair
of shoes while I was on the phone and disappeared.  And what’s up with the
tall, handsome guy?”

“You mean Gavin
Donnelly?”

“Of course!  How
in the heck did he end up in your office?  And where have you been?”

Laura sat on the
edge of her seat, while I told her the whole story about Gavin’s father all the
way up to telling her Gavin had asked me to dinner. 

She collapsed back
in her chair.  “Fabulous!  I’m so excited that he asked you to dinner so
quickly.”  Which reminds me,” she said as she shot up from her seat.  “We have
to go shopping.  There’s a dress in the window of this out of the way boutique
that would look perfect on you.  It has--”

“I told him no.”

“What?  Why would
you do that?”

“Because I was
having a hard time dealing with what had happened right before he walked into
my office.  You know how I could never remember what took place that morning of
Matt’s accident.  Well, this morning I remembered.”  My voice had the tone of a
Death March. 

Laura’s
cherry-colored lips fell open, as she slowly sat back down.  “Well?” she said. 
“What did you remember?”

I was a jittery mess
and stood to gaze out the window, feeling as if I were in some kind of trance. 
The words stuck in my throat.  I couldn’t speak.  All I could do was fling my
arms around in despair while shaking my head, when finally I opened my mouth
and couldn’t hold back my tears.  I sobbed and sobbed, my body wrenched, I felt
physically ill.  And during the time, it took to explain what had happened the
pain in my heart had felt as fresh as the day Matt died.

“Oh, honey.”  I
felt Laura’s arm around my waist, guiding me away from the window.  “Come on,
sit down.”  She brought me to my office chair, sat me down, and dragged the
chair from the front of my desk to sit face to face with me and hold my hands.

“Listen, I know
you’re a control freak, but not even you have the power to determine when
someone’s life is going to end.  You didn’t cause anything to happen.  Matt was
going jogging that morning whether you got into an argument with him or not. 
Even if he had nothing but happy thoughts on his mind, he wasn’t familiar with
the terrain and it was foggy.  Our lives are predestined, it was Matt’s time to
die, and God is the only one who knows why.”

I stared at her
without being able to say anything right away.  “I want to believe you’re right
but--”

“You two were the
happiest couple I’d ever met.  Was he a workaholic, yes, but he loved you more
than life itself.  In all the years you two were together, I’d bet you could
count on one hand the times you argued, and I’m not talking about arguing over
work.  Plus, you have to admit, you were just as bad when it came to burning
the midnight oil.  When you take the work aspect out of the equation, you two
got along on everything else.”

I stared down at
the floor, while Laura rubbed her thumbs over the back of my hands.  All I
could picture was Matt’s brilliant smile.

“You two respected
each other,” she said.  “You cared deeply for each other, and that’s the kind
of bond you can take with you to the grave.  It’s nothing I’d personally
experienced, and I might not ever get the chance to have someone love me as
much as Matt loved you--as much as you both loved each other. 
That’s
what’s worth remembering.  And that’s where your mind should be.”

She patted my hand
and raised my chin using one perfectly manicured finger.  “Can’t you see that
remembering that piece of your life is a very good thing?”

I frowned and
straightened my posture.  “How could remembering something so awful be good?”

“Because it was
the breakthrough that will change your life.  You can now stop feeling guilty. 
You were
not
to blame for Matt’s death.  And now that open wound you’d
kept buried in the back of your mind for all these years can finally heal. 
Don’t you see?  Today is the first day of the rest of your life.  We both
believe in heaven, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, I’d stake
my life on the fact that Matt has probably been looking down on you all these
years just waiting for this day so you can move on with your life and be happy.”

That’s when I knew
she was right.  Matt
was
looking down on me, he had appeared to me, he
was trying to tell me things about myself, and how I needed to let go of the
past.  Maybe he was even the one who had put the thoughts in my head and forced
me to remember.  The book, the one book he chose with an underlining theme of
being brave and opening your heart to love. 

I gave Laura a big
hug.  “Thank you for always being my friend and making me see clearly.  I can honestly
say that I believe one hundred percent in what you just said.”

Laura smiled and
let out a deep sigh.  “Okay, now that that’s settled, call Gavin and tell him
you’ve changed your mind.”

“What?  I can’t do
that!”

“Listen, now is
not the time to play hard to get.”

“You don’t
understand Gavin is the guy I
dreamed
about.  That’s a problem.”

“I know, lucky
you.  He’d be the guy of my dreams, too, so I’m not understanding why that’s a
problem.”

“What I mean is he
is
the guy, as in the exact duplicate of the guy I’d seen in my dream
who was actually
Matt
.”

Laura rolled her
eyes.  “Yeah well, you just got lucky.  The guy you conjured up in your head
just happens to resemble Gavin.”

I stifled a
laugh.  What’s the use to explain any further?

“Well?” she asked.

“All right, I’ll think
about it,” I said.

I thought about
the book.  For the protagonist it didn’t matter that the woman lived and died
in another time, he was desperate to find her.  I interpreted that to mean that
Matt definitely wanted me to find Gavin--no matter what.

 Mother’s eyes
watered while leaning over the kitchen island to chop up the last of the
Vidalia onion.  Nicholas sat next to me on the other side of the island,
carefully arranging banana slices on the bottom of a graham cracker piecrust. 

I’d done a lot of
soul-searching to try and forgive myself, while trying to decipher the meaning
of Matt’s messages and my bizarre dream.  Ever since I remembered what had
happened the day Matt died, I took to wandering the house late at night, talking
into the air, and pleading with Matt to materialize.  I still needed to talk to
Matt before I could truly move on with my life.

When he didn’t
show, doubts began to creep into my thoughts, like was I just reading into the
messages what I wanted to hear like an excuse to move forward and find love
without guilt?  I wasn’t sure but I did know one thing.  I was powerless to
control what is predestined and powerless to control the spiritual world and
precognitive dreams.  This was the work of someone all-powerful and of
greatness beyond what a simple human mind could comprehend. 

Gavin sounded
surprised when I called him back after I’d had a couple days to think about the
enormity of the chance I’d been given to change loneliness into a possible
world of happiness--something I’d shut myself off from for years. 

It took all the
courage I had to pick up the phone and dial.  I wasn’t even sure what I’d first
said to Gavin, but once we started talking, it felt as if time had rewound
itself.  Talking to him made me feel as if I were back in my teenage years of
when I’d lay on my white canopy bed amidst a boatload of stuffed animals,
talking for hours while playfully twisting my finger around the coiled cord of
my pink replica 1970s princess phone.  My father used to say that with a little
fertilizer he’d be able to get the phone to grow out of my ear.

Gavin and I talked
for almost two hours and I learned, among other things, that he had put himself
through college by bartending at a male strip club.  Said his uniform consisted
of black dress pants and a tuxedo bowtie.  I concluded the only thing he wore
on his chest must have been a tan.  He told me he hated working there, and that
it was the worst job he’d ever had, but that he’d do it again to put himself
through college. 

Slacker
came to mind as I thought of my own carefree college days.  The only worry I
had was whether I was going to wear the big, bold Hollywood sunglasses or the
small, chic round ones to walk across campus to my next class.