The Widow's Friend

This book is dedicated to all the old flames that are still
out there—male and female, either one. Whether they know it or not, they still
tease us in the alcoves of our minds. May they all age gracefully and may God
bless them, every one.

“My
Life”

I was widowed four years ago, and it’s been hard, really
hard. It was a shock at just age 51, but I have collected myself, recovered
nicely, and have a full and active life with family and friends. I love my
kids, and thankfully, most of them live quite close. I love my grandkids and
they visit often. We have club once a month, my old high school chums and me.
Most are married but they’re all really nice, and I’m accepted into the fold
like all of the rest. After Kevin’s death, I was surprised to be quickly included
into a group of other women, all single, all older, and all of them nice. I had
no idea they were even out there, but I was glad that they were. They’re my
friends too. I have so much to be thankful for and I love my life—I really do.
But I’m alone. I visit my kids alone. I attend church meetings alone. I dine
alone. I watch TV alone, and I go to bed alone. I do so very much—alone. I also
read a lot, it seems to help.

***

The story you’re about to hear is one of romance, old
romance, resurrected romance, an old flame that has been rekindled, and
probably for all of the usual reasons: loneliness, romance, friendship and
desire. So listen up and we’ll tell the tale, precisely as it happened and just
as it unfolded, not today, exactly, but more like half past yesterday.

The
Autumn of my Life

My marriage has never been an easy one. My little wife Mary
has a good heart but a hot temper, and that’s it in a nutshell, just that
simple, just that true. One hundred and ten pounds of venom, she leaves me on
the edge of foreboding at all times. She’s driven mostly by duty and
responsibility, but I just happen to think there’s a higher law than that.
After thirty five years we’ve gone through a lot together. The youngest of our
three children has passed away. He was a light in the world, but the victim of
a six year battle with drugs. That light has now been extinguished. It has left
my wife in emotional disarray. I wait for her recovery—four years hence has
been a very long time. We have six grandchildren, the oldest being seven. We
have been empty nesters for the last four years, ever since the passing of our
beloved Jace.

Can one be lonely within a marriage? I will raise my hand to
affirm that fact. And is it a one sided affair? Hardly, it always takes two to
tangle, as you all well know.

“Old
Flame”

It was early August, and I was in my den. I glanced down and
my eyes landed on my high school yearbook, lying innocently on the top of my
desk. I opened it up and flipped through the pages, just like I had done many
times over the past thirty five years. And then it happened, my eyes rested on
one Callii Von Rothstein. “Damn,” I said out loud. “She was cute!” I tried to
step away but I couldn’t do it. I was overcome by memories past. I turned my
head and then turned back again. I stepped towards the door and then backed up.
For whatever the reason I couldn’t break away, and I didn’t really seem to care
to. There was something unusual about all of this. It was almost—other worldly.
But no matter what had happened, exactly, and for whatever the reason why, I
couldn’t stop thinking about Callii, even if I’d wanted too, and not just that
particular day but for several weeks afterwards. I thought of her intimately,
and most of the time. You see, Callii and I had a past. I didn’t know her in
high school; she was a year younger than me and she was always attached to the
arm of Ronnie Tanner, also one year my junior. They were just one of those
couples that were always together, a “thing” in the school and accepted as
such, so I’d never paid much attention to her. I was always shy in high school
anyway, and I don’t know that she even knew who I was.

It was several years later that we connected. We were about
age twenty two, I think. She was already divorced after a bad and fleeting
first marriage, and I was still young for my age and quite unlearned in the
ways of the world, though I was never afraid of girls. I saw her somewhere and
liked what I saw. I found her, called her, and we went out a few times. It was
a brief and torrid little affair. It was maybe a little too torrid because of
her divorced station in life—and I was so naïve.

But now, even after she’d jumped from that yearbook and into
my mind, I still didn’t see much point in it all. After all, I had been married
for thirty five years and I hadn’t seen her over all of that time. I’d hardly
thought about her either. I had no idea where she was or what she was all
about. She was probably just another grandmother with umpteen grandkids and an
aging husband. I wondered which state she lived in but gave it little more
thought—but then something happened.

I was at a family reunion about two weeks later. My cousin,
Julie Davies, one year younger as well, was telling us about the high school
reunion she had just attended.

“There were a lot of people there that came without their
spouses, both guys and gals alike,” she said, and she named several names. “Oh,
and Callii Von Rothstein was there, too. She came alone—her husband passed
away.”

“Callii Von Rothstein,” I said out loud as a tingle of
excitement rose up my spine. I must have mentioned something about the past
because Julie said, “I didn’t know you ever dated her.”

“Just briefly,” I said, “Most people don’t know…but I dated
everybody at least once.” I raised my eyebrows up and down. Julie was not
amused.

“And let me ask, so Levi doesn’t have to,” my wife said. “How
did she look?”

“She looked good,” Julie said, with a reflective and
surprised look on her face.

And that was that, or maybe it could have been, but Callii
had been in my head, and now she was in my head even more. I went home that
night and crawled into bed. My wife lay cold at my side. I tossed and turned
and couldn’t sleep. I rose from my bed and wandered through the darkness—thinking.
The clock chimed from the family room. Three bells, I had to go to work about
six. I wandered still, thinking of only one thing. Callii Von Rothstein was a
widow, Julie had confirmed it, and of course it tantalized me. And then I
thought of Facebook, which was a recent addition to my life. I really hadn’t
done much with it, but I thought it was worth a try. I was compelled to find
her, and so I did.

She was easy to find. I mean, how many Callii Von Rothsteins
are out there in the world? And her married name was now attached: Callii
Wilson—nice fit. I clicked her name and requested to be her friend. She
responded more quickly than I would have thought, and I was glad that she did.

An
Old Friend

Bling! The sound of an e-mail aroused me. It was early yet
and I had dozed off. The heat of August was bearing down on me. I sat up on the
couch and flipped open my laptop. I had several new e-mails but only one of
them stood out: Facebook – Levi Stone wants to be your friend.

Levi Stone? Levi Stone? I knew Levi Stone. At least I used
to know him, a long time ago in another life. It was so long ago that I could
hardly remember. We were young then, really young, though I’d already had a
child. Tacey, my oldest was one year old at the time.

It was so hard to remember, and it had all been so brief.
Was it one date, maybe two? I didn’t know. He had been quiet, as I recalled. He
hadn’t seemed to have talked too much at all, but it hadn’t seemed to have
mattered because he was nice. I seemed to remember liking him, but it was all
so hazy, and so very long ago.

What the heck. I had nothing to lose so I answered back. I
became his Facebook friend and asked him a question, and then I went to bed.

Callii’s
Reply

“Hello there. Are you the Levi Stone I knew forty years ago?”
it said, and that’s all that it said. I sat and stewed. Callii had asked me a
question, and she was on the other end of this e-mail awaiting my reply. I was
surprised she had answered so quickly, but I was also nervous, and the more I
thought about it the more nervous I became. I felt giddy and young again, and
my heart fluttered a bit. This all seemed so strange. I hadn’t felt this way
for a very long time. I reflected some more. Callii was a widow, sure, but what
kind of a widow was she? Did she live with someone? Did she have a boyfriend or
two—or more? Was she engaged? Did she go to church? Was she comfortably
situated or was she living on her credit card? Was she wealthy or poor? It wasn’t
actually forty years ago but more like thirty five since our little fling, just
before I’d gotten myself married. All of these questions rushed through my
head, and it surprised me that I hadn’t considered them before. I had to be
careful, but on the other hand, what did it matter. We were just old friends
connecting on Facebook. What was the harm in that?

And so I answered with an e-mail of my own. It was short and
sweet, and I’d soon find out if anything would come of it. I clicked shut my
laptop and went out for a walk. I wanted to think—I needed to.

“Levi
Again”

I checked my e-mails for the first time in days. There was
one from Levi Stone in there. I read all the rest but let his sit for an hour
or two. I was a little uncertain. Levi Stone was a married man, at least as far
as I knew he was. I went to club every month with his cousin Julie. Levi’s name
never came up, but somehow I knew he was married, just like all the other men
that were out there were.

I thought of my high school reunion. I had attended it just
a month ago. I had thought, in this secretive little heart of mine, that a
surprise or two just might pop up there, but it had turned out to be just
another pipe dream, burst apart by the realities of my aging classmates, their
maturing spouses, and our fading dreams. Most of the men were married, at least
the good ones were, and the others hadn’t even attended. Ronnie Tanner and I
had quite a history, both in high school and twenty years hence. There was
still a spot for him in my heart, even though it had all ended in anger and
flames. He didn’t come either, but I learned a little more of him, and none of
it was good. He was an alcoholic, and he’d gotten worse over the years, not
better. He was just another delusion in my clouded mind, one more hope that
would never be. But the girls at the reunion had been nice, and I’d had a good
time there. Yes, I guess that’s exactly what had happened, I’d had another good
time with my friends, the girls—just one more party with my female friends.