Authors: William J. Coughlin
She sat quietly for a few moments. Her eyes seemed to have become even softer than before. “No other ambitions, Jerry? No hobbies, no secret dreams?”
He felt ashamed of himself. It had been the confession of a very shallow man and he knew it. He tried to smile as he shook his head.
“Jerry, your father always told me that everyone had a secret dream. Surely you want to sail around the world one day or write a novel? I'm not talking about real expectations, just dreams. Your father told me dreams were the most important thing in life for happiness. Let's have the truth now.”
He had heard his father say those exact words himself, the importance of dreams. And he knew the terrible consequence the lack of dreams had held for his father.
“I have no dreams, Regina. What dreams I might have had died a long time ago. I'm a lawyer, I deal with reality.”
She looked at him, her eyes interested, her face reflecting her puzzlement.
“Would you folks like to order now?” The waitress stood beside their table.
Regina shook her head.
“Not just now,” he said.
The girl smiled pleasantly and left.
He sipped the Scotch. “Now that you have stripped me down to my bare and miserable soul, Regina, it's your turn. What will bring you happiness?”
“I have plans, Jerry. I have dreams. Oh, I'm very happy at the university. I'm proud of my accomplishments and I love the job. I love to teach. And right now my children are the center of my life. Everything revolves around them. I have a full life now. But I have plans and hopes, Jerry. Women are different than men, I suppose. We need love, or at least we like the prospect of it. When my children are grown, and that's not too far distant, I hope to share my life with someone. I would hate going home to an empty house or apartment, to just the cat and the television. That may eventually be my fate, but it's not my dream. I look for love one day.”
“Ah, sweet romance.”
She looked away. “Not really. Oh, romance is always wonderful, Jerry. It's fun to think about. But I'm talking about love, the sharing of a life. It's hard to explain, I think the only description I can give is that it is the opposite of loneliness. And I'd like to travel. But not alone. They say the greatest poetry in the world is to see beauty with someone you love.”
“That sounds like a slogan invented by a travel agency.”
She studied him. “I don't believe you've become quite as hard as you'd like me to think. You were always very sensitive, very gentle, Jerry. I rather think that hasn't changed, not basically.”
He looked directly into her eyes. “Nothing remains the same, Regina. Everything changes. I'm not the person you remember.” Then he smiled suddenly. “But the strange thing is, you are. You haven't changed, not a bit.”
“I hope that's a compliment.”
“More than that, it's a damn miracle. You know, and I mean this absolutely honestly, you look even better than when we were young. I can't exactly put my finger on it, but it's as if the beauty has deepened.”
“God, I pity those poor Washington women. Jerry, who could possibly resist a line like that?”
He smiled at her. “I wish it were just a line, Regina.” He started to say something more, then stopped.
Her green eyes were sympathetic, as if somehow she could understand his thoughts without having them spoken.
“Are you really sure you have no dreams, Jerry?” She spoke very softly.
He looked at her. “I'm not as sure as I once was.”
The waitress broke the spell. They looked over the menu, then ordered.
The food was excellent, but Jerry Green found he had little appetite. He noticed that Regina also picked at her food. They finished the meal with brandy. For all his allegiance to facts and reality, it seemed to Green as if he had suddenly been transported back in time; the years seemed to have been magically rolled back and he again sat with his first love, and, he realized now, his only love. He wondered if perhaps the twist of circumstances might have granted him a second chance.
“We used to go walking along the banks of the Red Cedar on campus, do you remember?” he asked.
She smiled slowly. “Some things are never forgotten, Jerry.”
He felt apprehensive. He wanted to ask the question, but was afraid of rejection. But still it seemed terribly important to him that he ask. “Would you, well it may sound silly, but could we go walking there again?”
“Now? In the snow?”
“That never used to bother you.”
She nodded, remembering. “No, it never did.” She looked across the candle, her eyes catching the dying flame. “It's changed. There are some places where it's considered dangerous. But where there's light it's usually safe.”
“You sound like you walk there often.”
Her tongue touched the tip of her upper lip before she laughed. “You are jealous, aren't you?”
“No.”
“Actually, I'm rather a well-known figure along the banks of the Red Cedar. If it isn't one professor, it's another. It's such a bother keeping all the names straight.”
He tried to laugh but was surprised that he could not. “Don't tease me,” he said softly, looking away in embarrassment.
She reached across the table. The touch of her hand was almost electric. “I won't tease, Jerry. I'm really very touched.”
He paid the check, got their coats and they left the restaurant. There was no wind and only an occasional snowflake drifted down. When he climbed in behind the wheel she slid across the seat and sat next to him as she had when they were young. He kissed her cheek softly. She snuggled against him as he started the car.
It was a short drive to the campus. Only a few people were about. He parked near Jenison Field House, and then they walked, her arm tightly interlocked with his own.
The snow lay untouched, except in the roadways. It was a lovely sight. The campus lights illuminated the tranquil scene. The huge statue of the Spartan warrior, the school's emblem, stood a silent watch. They strolled toward the bridge.
“It's so beautiful tonight, Jerry,” she said. “It's as if nothing had ever changed.”
“I know.”
Below the bridge the dark waters of the Red Cedar River flowed past the whitened banks. They stopped and looked over the bridge's railing, listening to the sound of the whispering water.
A car moved slowly past.
“Want to take a walk down along the bank,” he asked.
“Well, I'm afraid that's something that has changed, Jerry. It's best to stay up in the light. It's safer. There have been a few incidents. I suppose with a student body of over forty thousand you're bound to get a few oddballs.”
“Okay. How about over there then?” He nodded toward the field house parking area. The lighted reaches of the parking lot followed along the path of the river.
She nodded her agreement and they walked along for a while in silence.
“Regina,” he said, surprised at his own thoughts and the need to put them into words. “I'm still in love with you.”
She laughed. “You're in love with a memory, Jerry. See, you're a hopeless romantic after all.” She stopped laughing when she looked up into his eyes.
He tried to smile but couldn't. “Hell, I suppose I've always been in love with you.”
“It's just the night, Jerry. And a memory. It's a magic night. I'll always remember it. But don't say anything you'll feel foolish about later.” She squeezed his arm.
“I've never forgotten you, ever. All those years, Regina, I thought about you. I know that sounds contrived, but it's true.”
She looked away from him. A snowflake landed on her cheek and for a moment seemed like a white beauty mark. “We were young, Jerry. You never forget your first real love. I'm flattered. And, as a matter of fact, I have often thought about you. But I think that's natural.”
“Part of the human condition.”
“Most probably.”
He stopped suddenly and swung her around so that she faced him. “That's bullshit and you know it. We've been in love since we were kids. It was just a twist of fate or time that kept us apart. Regina, I don't want to let you go, never again.”
Her face grew solemn, her eyes questioning. “You're married, Jerry.”
He snorted. “Some goddamn marriage. I'm married to a woman who is more masculine than I am; a tough, domineering female. And you want to know the whole damn truth, Regina, the whole rotten truth? She cheats on me. She screws half her customers.” He saw her eyes widen in shock. “And you know what's even worse?”
She shook her head.
“I don't give a good goddamn. That's what's worse. It's a lousy arrangement, loveless and cold. There's no marriage to break up, Regina, if that's what's bothering you.” He shook his head and sighed. “It's not even a good business arrangement.” He tried to laugh. “I pay all the bills even though she makes more money than I do.”
He realized he was gripping her arms, almost shaking her. He let go, then folded his arms around her and held her close.
She circled her arms around him and he felt the comforting pressure of her embrace. “I'm so sorry, Jerry,” she whispered.
“I'll get divorced,” he said slowly. “There'll be no trouble. Then we'll get married. You'll love Washington. There's an indescribable excitement there. It's the center of the most powerful government on earth. It can be intoxicating, I promise you.”
She said nothing, but her embrace increased. He felt a comfort that he could not express.
“And it's just not Washington, it's the whole area. There's Chesapeake Bay, the whole Eastern seaboard. Your kids would love it. And it would be a learning experience for them, a guided tour through America's past.”
She began to giggle. “Are you offering marriage or an advanced degree in history?”
He kissed her gently on the lips. “Marriage,” he said simply.
She looked up at him, her eyes wet. “I said I had dreams, Jerry. Perhaps you've always been in the background of my mind, I'm not sure. I think you probably have. Maybe you are my dream.” She hugged him more tightly. “But I'm no longer a young high school girl. I have responsibilities. I know what my children can expect here. They're with their own kind, Jerry. They're happy and adjusted here. If I were alone, I think I'd jump at the chance, but I can't leave here. Not yet, anyway. Do you understand me?”
He felt closer to her than he had ever felt toward any other person. “No, I don't understand. What I propose is Washington, D.C., not Timbuktu. They have schools in Washington, good schools. They're normal kids, they'll adjust. Hell, they'll grow intellectually.”
“And what about the long hours you put in?” She whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“You told me about your job, your work and its importance to you. Do you honestly think that would change, Jerry?”
“I could adjust. It's a rat race, but I could make some changes.” Even to his own ear his protestation sounded weak and unconvincing.
“No, you couldn't, and I wouldn't want you to,” she said softly. “It wouldn't work, my love. I want someone to hold my hand and watch sunsets. You just wouldn't be there, not if you stayed with your firm.”
“What are you suggesting?”
She held him tightly and looked up into his eyes. “Come home, Jerry. You're a lawyer, a good one. There's opportunity here. And we wouldn't need much. It wouldn't matter to me what you did just so that we could be together. You could teach here. It could be a wonderful life, Jerry. There's concerts, plays. You remember. There's a rich cultural life here. It's your home. We could be together.”
“Leave Harley Dingell?”
“Among other things, like your wife.” She started to laugh. “This is ridiculous, you know that?” She pushed gently away. “You're willing to leave your wife, but not your law firm. How does a woman compete against a law firm, Jerry? I feel ashamed even thinking about you leaving your wife because of me, but the idea that you'd balk because of the firm, well, that brings us back to earth.” She brushed at her hair. “Maybe you're right, maybe there are no dreams.”
He looked up at the sky. The heavy cloud cover obscured any stars. There was no wind. “If I said that I'd come back here, then you'd marry me?”
She took his hand and lead him slowly along. They could hear the rustle of the river water nearby. “If what you've told me about your marriage, and your life in general is true, I think it would be more like a rescue. I don't mean to sound flip. Marriage is a coming together of two human beings, Jerry. It's really not a romantic thing, it's a pledge, a welding of two souls. Life can be hard, my love, I've found that out. To me, marriage is a total commitment. I'm not in the market to trade my quiet life here for an expensive place near the Potomac with long lonely hours and a meaningless existence.” She drew him to her, encircling him with her arms. “In the long run, Jerry, I think I can offer you more comfort and satisfaction than you may reasonably expect from the elegant offices of your Harley Dingell.”
He kissed her, gently at first, then forcefully as he was seized by a newly awakened hunger. She resisted for only a moment and then responded. They embraced, unmindful of time, or of anything, except themselves.
“Regina⦔ he began.
She held her fingertips to his lips. “Not now, Jerry. It's a magic time. No answers tonight. Let's just enjoy it. People are granted very few nights like this in their lives.”
He kissed her again.
They kissed when they returned to his car. They passionately kissed again when he had parked in front of her house. Then suddenly she was gone. He saw her front door close behind her. He sat there for a few moments before he even thought about leaving.
He wanted her. And he refused to think about anything except his need for her. Anything else would have broken the spell. And it was indeed a magic night. He was deeply in love.