Our relationship was like that - here and there only a moment of interaction but with enough impact to make a mark (not a bad one, mind you).
Our mothers played tennis together, and this was how we
first met. My mother often dragged me to the courts and left me in the
clubhouse with a lunchbox of toys. Even though I would've preferred
being left at the swimming pool, this wasn't often possible, but I had
an active imagination and could make do with my toys and an
One day, I sat upon one of the bamboo sofas with
neon palm tree printed cushions (hey, it was the 80's) and applied
makeup to a Barbie head. He came in, looked at me, and said, "That's
terrible, and look at her hair!" It didn't matter that he was six years
older, he sat with me and showed me how to brush the tangled from her
hair without ripping it out of her scalp. Why would he play with me?
This, I asked my mother. "He has a little sister. He knows your
brother." Judging by how rarely my brother allowed me to play with him, I
couldn't understand how this was an answer.
sat with me on the porch of the clubhouse and helped me tear out
dresses for my paper dolls. "Don't be impatient or you'll rip the
folding tabs." No, I couldn't abide that. This obsessive trait, we
"Here," my tennis
coach said, "Practice returning Jason's serve." It glanced off the top
of my racket and hit me in the chin. He crossed the net to have a look
at it. "Sorry," he said and smiled.
stood beside an outdoor fireplace, Solo cup of keg beer in hand,
chatting with another girl. I saw him and he me. "Oh my God, [Summa]! Is
that you?" Yes, it was. "How old are you?" I was eighteen. "Really?" We
talked for three hours.
I hugged him at his engagement party. By now, he was a dentist, and I was working on my bachelor's.
chatted with him at someone else's engagement party, told him I was
married and that I was a teacher. "You're too smart to do that." Well,
kids need smart teachers. "It was good to see you." You, too, and it was the last time.
<the stone sinks>