...To Old Stories

Hopefully, this piece answers questions raised in the previous post. Feel free to use the comments to express your thoughts, my friends.

Kirsten falls into bed without bothering to free herself of the sequined dress that wraps around her like plastic wrap. It clings to every curve as she falls back against the pillows. Her phone finally falls from her hand as she breathes gently. She tosses and turns as memories become dreams.

~~~

“Tonight? What’s happening tonight?” Kirsten looks up from carefully unfolding the wax paper covering the sandwich her boyfriend brought from their favorite deli.

John grins at her over his pastrami on wheat. “Don’t try to pretend you’ve forgotten. The year is almost over.”

“Really?” She smiles back at him over ham on rye that has yet to reach her mouth.

“Well, it is a little late, but maybe I can find another date for the Changing of Years Gala.” He takes another bite of his sandwich.

“I wouldn’t want you to do that. I did buy the perfect dress the other day.” She winks at him and takes a tentative bite out of her own sandwich.

As they continue to eat, their conversation dies down, but they have become used to their comfortable silences. Too used to them, in Kirsten’s opinion, but she doesn’t want to get into that now. John has been looking forward to this evening for the past few months, and she doesn’t want to be the one to ruin it for him.

~~~

“Just one more look.” Kirsten whispers to herself as she turns back to the mirror.

The dress hangs just loose enough to be modest without hiding her curves. Created from burgundy velvet, it glitters from the softly rounded neckline to the wide hem that stops just above her ankle. Paired with black slingbacks and diamond drop earrings, she feels ready to celebrate the birth of the new year and her renewed life. As she steps away from the mirror, a knock draws her to the living room door. She pulls it open to find John with a corsage in hand.

“Are we going to prom?” She smiles and holds out her wrist.

He fumbles with the plastic case, sighing with relief as it opens. As he slides the bracelet over her wrist, he says. “I wanted to get you a bouquet, but this way you can admire your flowers all night.”

Kirsten looks down at the mix of tiny red and white roses and smiles. “I guess I’ll have to save you a few dances for this.”

“I hope so.” He offers her his elbow.

She giggles, taking his arm and leaning her head lightly on his shoulder.

~~~

“Ladies and gentlemen, you only have one more hour to enjoy 2011. Let’s see how many great songs we can squeeze in for you.” The DJ’s voice booms out of the speakers.

As the music begins again, John reaches into his pocket. “I guess we have one more hour to work on our resolutions for the coming year.”

As he pauses, Kirsten puts her hand on his elbow. “John, please…”

Tears well up in her eyes and she turns away. Startled John releases his grip on whatever resides in his pocket and reaches for her instead. She shakes off his hand and starts walking. Short, tentative steps grow to become strong, long strides away from him. As his surprise wears off, he finds his own feet. He catches her easily. This time, he refuses to let her shake off his gentle hand.

“Kirsten, what’s going on?”

“I wanted to wait until tomorrow to tell you. Can’t we just enjoy tonight?” Her eyes plead with him as much as her voice.

He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think we can, but I don’t know why.”

Kirsten gazes into his eyes for a moment before looking away. “I’ve accepted a job in California.”

“Oh.” John’s hand falls from her arm. He clears his throat and continues. “When do you leave?”

“In two weeks. I was going to tell you in the morning. I didn’t want to ruin tonight for you.”

“I wish you had told me…”

“So I ruined tonight anyway.” Her eyes slide down to the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

“Maybe, a little.” He offers her a tentative smile. “But maybe another dance will make it better.”

As she steps into his arms, he begins to lead her gently to the floor. She leans her head against his chest, breathing in the scent of him. She doesn’t see the slow tears tracing the outline of his cheek. Her hair soaks them in as he leans closer to her.