She was getting married.
After his initial visit for the high school reunion that was never attended, Willie hadn't returned to Knight's Ridge but one time, six years later. He and Tracy had recently broken up, their relationship turning to one of convenience rather than love. Despite feeling like he was finally ready to marry her towards the end of that first trip back, he'd never managed to actually ask the question. He'd bought a ring, he'd picked out the place he planned on asking her, but there was always something in his way. Not any something that would make sense to another person, but he could feel it; this piece of him that was holding him back. So after six years of almost asking and taking her to extravagant venues only to leave with the black velvet box still tucked safely in his jacket pocket, he'd grown exhausted. And he imagined she had too. Surely she'd had some inkling of an idea about what he was up to all those special nights. Only to be disappointed when the evening ended the same way each time. So after a long discussion late one Tuesday night, they'd gone their separate ways.
After that, Willie craved a change of pace; away from the city, away from the things that reminded him of his failed relationship, and the niggling feeling that he knew exactly why he'd never asked Tracy to spend the rest of her life with him. And what better place to escape to than his small hometown.
He decided a short weekend trip was in order and as he pulled into his father's driveway that Friday night, he couldn't peel his eyes off the house next door. There was no snowman in the front yard, no mittened girl stomping up and down in the snow. He decided after a moment of watching for her that the house looked less full. Like her absence made it more dull, empty, somehow. He knew from Mo that she still lived in that house, that she wasn't actually absent at all. At nineteen years old, she was currently attending the community college in the next town over. Still, to Willie, the house didn't look the same. It left an unsettling feeling in his chest.
He didn't see her that entire weekend. And it wasn't for the lack of trying. He'd done everything short of walking up her front porch steps and knocking on the door. He shoveled snow off his father's driveway for hours, hoping she'd come out. He left the house frequently to make non-essential trips to the corner store, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. He seated himself in front of any of his father's windows with a view of her house, a book in hand, pretending to read. But he never saw her.
He left Sunday afternoon, feeling more restless than when he arrived. An irrational glimmer of hope had blossomed in his heart earlier in the week. He knew it was delusional to think his father's next door neighbor had spent these past six years watching for him the way he'd been watching for her that weekend. Especially when he'd shot down her emboldened idea of waiting for one another. But he'd hoped to at least see her. Talk to her. Something. So he was upset with having deluded himself, upset that he couldn't forget her after all these years, and definitely upset about the circumstances. But as he drove out of Knight's Ridge, he resigned himself to the facts. They weren't meant to walk this world together, as she once told him they could. Not in this lifetime anyway. He would learn to accept that.
As promised, Willie did see Andera again. They laughed one evening over shots of whiskey at the coincidence, both of them returning to Massachusetts the same week ten years after their first encounter. Andera was happily married, still living in Chicago, with a little girl at home; Emma. He'd updated her on his own life: playing piano in some high class clubs, composing on the side, staying in an apartment professionally decorated he didn't much care for, dating casually but decidedly unmarried.
"I can't believe you haven't settled down with anyone, William. What happened to your New York girl?" She asked.
Willie twisted his drink in circles, the glass warming to his temperature. He watched the brown liquid slosh, struck suddenly with a dull ache he'd managed to somewhat ignore for the past couple of years. It was present now, intensified by the town, the weather, the conversation at hand.
"It didn't work out between us and I... well, I haven't found the right one." He sipped his drink. Warm.
"I imagined you'd be one of the first of your pals to get married. It's funny," she downed her shot with a smile, "weddings seem to be a popular event around here lately."
Willie knew Tommy and Sharon finally decided to make it legal after two children and a shared house note. They'd set the date for a May wedding, but that was six months away and he could think of no one else who had or were planning upcoming nuptials.
"How do you figure?' He asked.
"Well, there's Sharon and Tommy in a couple months, Stanley over there is renewing his vows in a few weeks, and there's that little girl who lived next door to your father-"
"Marty?"
"-well I guess she's not little anymore. She's getting married tomorrow. Maybe it's something in the water. You should stay here a while, might get bit by the commitment bug." She winked.
She was getting married.
Tomorrow.
Willie couldn't even muster a smile at Andera's joke, too overcome with this new information. He hadn't had much to drink, but he suddenly felt like his world was tipping upside down. He downed his shot and stood, sliding his jacket on haphazardly.
"Listen Andera, it was great seeing you again, but I have to go."
She spun around on her stool, "What? Where are you going?"
He tossed a couple bills on the bar and shoved his wallet back in his pocket. He cleared his throat and smiled as best he could, "I have to finish packing, I'm heading back to New York tomorrow morning. It really was good to see you. I'll plan a trip to Chicago early next year, we'll meet up."
Andera watched him carefully. He squirmed a little under her gaze, fighting the itch to just walk away. His mood had turned sour. Finally she smiled with pursed lips and nodded her head, "Okay Willie. I'll give you a call soon."
He squeezed her shoulder before heading for the exit. The frigid winter air outside was sweet relief, clearing his erratic brain. He didn't know why he was getting so worked up. He'd accepted years ago that he and Marty were on different paths, winding far away from one another. It wasn't meant to happen. On the rare occasions he allowed himself to really indulge in her, he imagined a beautiful woman living an extraordinary life. Maybe she was writing poetry and novels that would make her a world renowned author. Maybe she was running her own company. Maybe she was in med school on her way to becoming a heart surgeon.
Willie knew she was only twenty-three and that she wasn't at these incredible stages in life yet, but he imagined she would be sooner rather than later. However, amongst all these visions of Marty's theoretical life, he never pictured a man by her side; which was an insanely foolish thing to leave out of ideas about her future. To think that someone like Marty wouldn't be snatched up so quickly was blatant stupidity. He thought that he'd long ago given up on the chance they might one day reconnect. Apparently, the seed of hope that Marty had planted in him the day she asked him to wait for her was blossoming despite his efforts to squelch it.
He leaned against the side of his car with eyes closed, hands balled into fists inside his jacket pockets. It might not be so difficult to hear if he wasn't here in town; if she wasn't most likely getting married at the local church not ten minutes down the road. It might be a little easier to stand if he was back in New York with his piano in the next room, ready to withstand his abuse for hours.
Or maybe nothing would make hearing this news any better.
Willie dropped into the driver seat of his car and pulled out of the parking lot. This time around, he'd decided to book a motel room instead of staying with his father. He liked to pretend it was because he was too used to the privacy; that staying in a house with two other men for a week might drive him up the wall after living on his own for so long. Really he knew it was to keep his distance from Marty. He may have deceived himself into thinking he'd accepted their inability to be together, but he wasn't about to make it harder on himself. That all seemed stupid now. She probably wasn't living at home any longer. She was more than likely living with her fiancé.
His jaw clenched at the thought and he braked hard into the parking space in front of his motel room. He pulled the key out of the ignition and sat there in the quiet for a moment. He didn't have a right to be angry or frustrated. He'd rationally declined her offer to wait. He'd gone on dating, and almost marrying, another woman. He hadn't attempted to contact her despite his request that they should stay in touch. If he ever wanted Marty so badly, he had a funny way of showing it. So he took a deep breath and blew out the anger. All that remained was a canyoning feeling in his gut. Nothing a little liquor couldn't remedy.
He pushed into his room and grabbed a few mini bottles of alcohol from the fridge before falling on the bed. The reasonable side of him was wondering why the hell he was so hung up on a girl from ten years ago. But he knew why. Deep down, there was one simple reason: She was Marty. She had an old soul. She was his ridiculously impractical Juliet. He knew with absolute certainty that if she had been eighteen that first day they met, he would have married her in a heartbeat.
All Willie could think for the next few hours was that he should have waited. As nonsensical as it would have been, he should have waited. Five years wasn't so long.
His final thought before succumbing to an alcohol induced slumber: First thing in the morning, he was out of there. And maybe he wouldn't ever come back.
A series of frantic knocks roused Willie from unconsciousness. He turned his head to glance at the clock on the nightstand. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes and knocking little empty plastic bottles on the floor in the process, he noted it was one forty-five in the afternoon.
Christ, he'd meant to be out of there by eleven. No doubt housekeeping was wondering why the hell he hadn't checked out yet. He fumbled off the bed, removing his twisted jacket. He sucked in a deep breath, apologies and promises of being gone in ten minutes perched on his tongue as he opened the door. But before he could utter a syllable, a blur of white flew past him into the room.
He turned to stare at the woman, closing the door slowly behind her. Was he still drunk? Dreaming, maybe.
"Marty?" He asked tentatively.
"Do you love me?" She asked simply.
He couldn't answer her, overwhelmed with the image in front of him: strapless wedding dress, ruby lips, mangled roses hanging in her hand. Surely she wasn't standing in his motel room after having just run out of her wedding. He must be imagining things.
"Because I'm fairly certain I love you. I know it sounds ludicrous, Willie. We haven't spoken in ten years," She sounded composed enough, but he could see the desperation in her eyes. "But so what? I don't need to see you or talk to you every day to miss you so terribly, to feel like a piece of me has been absent since that day you left. I know it was unreasonable, insane even, to ask you to wait for a thirteen year old, but... what about now? Am I being unreasonable now?"
She glanced down at her dress then, avoiding his gaze as she adjusted it. She smoothed her hands over it, as if trying to make it less visible. Flower petals came loose from her bouquet and floated down to the floor. She sighed and tossed her handful of fabric back down, chuckling self-deprecatingly. She turned her eyes back on him, "Maybe I am. I don't know if you're seeing anyone. I don't know if you're still living in New York. Maybe you married Tracy and she'll be back from the front office any second. But when I heard you were in town, I couldn't not come. Because I love you."
She was infinitely more beautiful than he ever could have imagined. Even now, looking so disheveled and worried. And she kept saying those words to him, 'I love you.' That, combined with the fact that she was standing here in front of him, real and tangible and so lovely, was making his brain a little fuzzy.
He reached out to her and she stepped forward eagerly. Gently, he touched his fingertips to her face and smiled when she leaned into him. She grasped his wrist tightly, staring right into his soul.
He was trying to keep from snatching her up in his arms, "I missed you, Marty. More than you know."
"You don't have to miss me anymore."
There was a warmth from somewhere inside of him rising to the surface, warming him in the chilly hotel room. He absentmindedly grabbed his jacket from the bed and slid it around Marty's bare shoulders. There were, however, a few things that were keeping that warmth from overtaking him in the most pleasant way. He sat down on the bed and pulled Marty down beside him.
"What happened?"
She grabbed a handful of her dress and sighed, "The edited version would be that I was thirty minutes away from diving head first into a doomed marriage and an unsatisfying life."
What upset Willie more than the idea that Marty had been about to be somebody else's for the rest of their time on this planet, was the idea that she would have been unhappy the entire time. "Surely you pondered your future with this man before the day of your wedding." It didn't come out as a question, but the statement was laced with curiosity.
She was quiet for a moment, idly fingering the zipper of his jacket. The heater in the corner of the room was humming and vibrating, simultaneously filling the silence between them and making it unbearable. Finally, she looked back up at him and smiled.
"I went looking for you in New York a couple years ago."
Willie balked, "What?"
"A month after I turned nineteen, I bought a plane ticket and flew to New York for a weekend. I'm not sure what I expected to happen. All I knew was that I wasn't thirteen anymore and I wanted to see you."
"I didn't – you never –"
"I never saw you. I visited all the clubs I could find that featured piano players and, that Saturday morning, happened to hear where you were working. When I stopped by, they said you'd requested a couple days off. They didn't know where you were."
Willie furrowed his eyebrows, small detailed puzzle pieces slipping into place in his muddled head. "You flew over in March?"
She nodded and he continued, "Mid-March? The weekend of the fourteenth, maybe?"
"Yes... did you know..."
"No, no – it's just... Tracy and I broke up that week and I, well, I actually came back here that weekend. I took off work and I drove here."
They stared at each other. Both of them unable to believe their utter misfortune at having missed each other in such a spectacularly messed up way. Willie remembered that weekend so vividly. He spent two days desperately wishing to see Marty and all along she'd been in New York, in his place of his business, probably within walking distance of his home. They'd been so, so close and so damn far away. He closed his eyes and spoke to the universe as a whole, "Unbelievable."
Marty sighed, "When I got back home, I made myself accept that it was never going to happen between you and I. I felt kind of foolish, a little delusional, hoping you still thought about a thirteen year old you met one weekend years before. So I kind of just... gave up. Two years later, I met Scott."
Willie never knew how much he didn't like that name.
"We met at college, we dated, met each other's families, moved in together. We did everything exactly the way you're supposed to do it. I just never fell in love with him, you know? And to answer your question, of course I thought about our future together. Maybe I didn't love him, but I liked him well enough. He's stable. He's a stable man. Besides, I couldn't have what I wanted. So I settled."
He rubbed at his eyes, frustration dancing within him. He looked at her and shook his head, "I never wanted that for you. You, Marty, should never have to settle for anything in your life."
She grabbed his hand with both of hers, "Being with anyone besides you, William, to me, is settling. It couldn't have been avoided. But... I was going to be okay with it. I was going to be okay with his extremely demanding job, the late hours, the business trips, the constant phone calls. I was going to be okay with coming second to a profession; okay with all of it. So I drove to the church and got ready for my wedding." She paused, taking a deep breath. "But then I was sitting there by myself and all I could think about was you. You're messy hair, you're blue eyes, your frequent literary references." He laughed. "I decided that it wasn't okay. It wasn't okay that we never got a chance. It wasn't okay that we never stayed in touch. It wasn't okay that I'd let things go so far with Scott when I only ever loved you."
There she went again, saying those words to him. He felt young. He felt so awake. He felt like he might combust.
"So I snuck over to see Scott, to talk to him, but I hesitated when I heard him talking on the phone. He was speaking with one of his business partners, told him he was planning on cutting our honeymoon short so he could make it to a conference in San Francisco." Marty smiled woefully. "I can't really be upset. It's not like I gave him my everything and got nothing in return. I realized then, outside the door, that our relationship had always just been... convenience."
Willie almost laughed. He'd been so wrong about he and Marty going down separate paths. Ten years was a long road to travel, but look where it had lead them. Right to each other. He didn't need to hear anymore. Ex-fiancés, ex-almost-fiancés, none of it mattered. All he needed was her. He reached for her and finally, finally, he kissed her. It wasn't a teenage-esque explosion of magic. It was a calming moment, like every piece of his world settled into place and fit so perfectly together it was unreal. It felt right. This was where he – where they were supposed to be. Together.
Their lips disconnected a moment later, but they stayed tangled in each other. Her hands were in his hair, around his neck. He'd pulled her into his lap and was holding her small waist, holding her as tightly as he could. But he concluded that it wasn't enough. He was never going to get enough of her. She smoothed his hair back from his forehead, her skin impossibly soft against his, "So what are your plans for the day?"
He laughed and kissed her softly, "I was headed back to New York today."
The sun brightened behind the curtains then and lit Marty up like an angel. The light reflected off her silk dress and Willie could swear there was a hazy glow surrounding her. She was otherworldly. She looked him the eyes and beamed, "Take me with you."
He stilled. He found it humorous, how everything was coming full circle. He always imagined saying those words to her. She was the kind of girl you wanted to say those words to. But this was okay. This was good. They were going to take each other through this world. He couldn't think of anything better.
Willie pulled his coat tighter around Marty and kissed her once more for good measure.
"Let's go."
Hope you all enjoyed. Thanks for taking the time to read!