Falling

From the archives. Nice review. This was quite the interesting tale you weaved together for us to enjoy here on WDC.

Gemini at my suggestions

“This is nice,” she said, head back eyes closed.

The TR is a sports car. The seats don’t have head rests and the seats don’t recline. The top was off, and the sky was a carpet of stars — diamonds on black velvet. We were on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean a few miles north of Isla Vista.

She turned to me, sitting up. “This was a test, wasn’t it?”

I grinned. “Test? What kind of test?”

“Sure, play all innocent. You invited me to dinner and a movie. Our first date and you give me hamburgers,” She looked around waving her arm. “You give me a hamburger and stars.”

My grin grew. “Didn’t you like the hamburger?”

She slunk back into her seat, folding her arms. “Yes, it was a very good hamburger, but it wasn’t dinner.”

I shrugged. “I guess it depends on what you’re used to, what you can afford.”

She turned to look at me. “You’re not going to play the struggling student card, are you?”

I nodded.

She turned away.

We let the silence hang.

“Did I pass?” she asked.

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Are you happier here with me, or with somebody else at the El Condor?”

She laughed looking at her hands in her lap. “Hmmm… here with you or champagne at the El Condor?” She turned to look at me. Big grin. “You don’t have any champagne in the trunk, do you?”

I shook my head. “I have a little Spanada back at my apartment.”

This time, she smiled. “Is that an invitation?”

I nodded, “For some time in the future.”

She straightened up, twisting to face me. “Sometime in the future, what about right now?”

I twisted to face her. “How many times have we had coffee after class?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“A lot. Our first time in the Commons, we must have sat there for hours. They kicked us out at closing, remember.”

She nodded. “I remember, so what?” She turned away.

I turned to hug the steering wheel, then turned to look at her. “I guess I was wrong.” I reached to turn the key.

She touched my hand. “Don’t.”

I looked at her.

She nodded. “I felt it, too.” She turned back and looked out her side of the car. She turned back. “Why did it take you so long to ask me out? What, three months of coffee on Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

“Two and a half — 10 coffees.”

She laughed. “Just checking. Good, so you remember.”

I nodded. “I remember. I remember what you wore, how you looked, how you smelled…”

“How I smelled!”

I shrugged. “Your perfume.”

She smiled, then laughed. “You never smell.”

“Thanks, I think.”

She nodded. “It’s a good thing. I wouldn’t say you were natural, but you’re not unnatural. You’re who you are.”

“And you’re not?”

She shook her head. “I’m not.” Then she twisted in her seat, taking my hand. “Unless I’m with you. With you, I can be who I am, what I am.”

“And who is that?”

She shrugged. “It’s more who I’m not.” She turned to me. “Does that make sense?”

I shrugged. “As much sense as anything. Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For paying me a great compliment — I let you be who you are.” I laughed. “Even though we don’t know who or what that is.”

She laughed, looking down at her hands. “Yes, who or what that is.” She turned to look at me. “Can we go for a walk?”

I nodded, pulling the keys from the ignition.

She opened her door but waited for me to help her out. Not an unreasonable request, the TR is not that easy to climb in and out of. I took her hand, pulling her from the car. She let momentum carry us into each other’s arms. We looked at each other, then she closed her eyes. I took that as permission. It was a soft kiss.

She pulled back, grinning. “Thank you.”

We were still holding on to one another. “For what?”

“For getting that out of the way.”

“Getting what out of the way?”

“Our first kiss.”

I shook my head. “That was not our first kiss.”

She pulled her head back. “Then what was it?”

“That, my dear Laura, was our first… our first… our first…”

“Our first what, and dear Laura?”

I nodded. “You have been dear Laura since our first coffee. Our hours on the phone have only made you more… more…”

She laughed. “More endearing?”

I laughed, looking at the ground, then up into her eyes. Her dark brown eyes captured the stars, her smile the moon. “Yes, more endearing.” I pulled her to me. She slid into place. Now, we had our first kiss.

After eternity, we pulled back to look at each other.

“Wow! Is that our first kiss?”

I nodded. “That was our first kiss.”

“Is the earth supposed to move and time stand still?”

I nodded, smiling. “It’s California. You never know when the earth will move.”

She hit me on my arm, not hard but I felt it. “That was not an earthquake and you know it?”

I shrugged giving her my impish grin. “Time warp?”

“What’s wrong with you, didn’t you feel it, didn’t it mean anything?”

I nodded eyes closed. “Yes, I felt it and we both know it meant everything.” I turned to her my eyes opened. “I’ve been falling for you since we first met. That kiss was the sudden stop.” I held up my hand. “No, not the sudden stop but the gentle embrace of… of…”

“Of love?” she asked.

I nodded. “Of love. Some feel electricity, I felt lava. Not the scorching, burning lava but the oozing, warming, enveloping flow of lava. Like hot fudge topping on ice cream. Yes, I felt it. It scares me. I’m deflecting until I know how you feel.”

“Hot fudge?”

I shrugged. “Butterscotch?”

She laughed. “Okay, we’re both deflecting. I’m scared, too. What comes next?”

I shrugged. “Like I should know, this is a first for me.”

“A first?”

I nodded. “Yes, I’ve never felt this way before.”

“You’ve never been in love before?”

“If this is love, then, yes. I’ve never been in love before.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “I’ve been in what I thought was love. What was probably like, or lust, but never love.”

She smiled. “Good.” She gave a quick nod. “Good.”

“Good?” I asked.

She nodded. “Good, very good. It wouldn’t do if only one of us felt this way.”

I laughed. “No, it wouldn’t do. So, what comes next?”

“Spanada?” she asked, with cocked head and a wink.

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“Next question, where? I have three roommates and you have two,” I said, leading her back to the car.

“Complicated, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

She looked at the car. “Here?”

I laughed. “Where exactly? There’s no back seat and that damned gear shift is sure to cause problems.”

She shrugged. “There’s not much time. Finals are over, graduation is next week.” She hit me. “Why did you take so long?”

I shrugged. “I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted the stars; we’ve had fog for the last three weeks.”

“Who needs stars?”

“We did. We needed it to be perfect. Do you really have to go to grad school?”

“Do you really have to go to the Peace Corps?”

“Already said I would.”

“So did I.”

“Another kiss?” I asked.

She smiled. “And then another.”

We got better with practice, though it is hard to improve on perfection, but we did.

---

We couldn’t sit together at graduation — different majors. I met her folks and her sisters. Apparently, they knew all about me. Her father seemed pleased I was leaving the country. Her mother didn’t trust me. She made sure we weren’t left alone to run off to some motel or elope.

After two years, I came back from Korea. Tuberculosis follow-ups was not what I was expecting. Glad I did it, but I wouldn’t do it again. We wrote and wrote and wrote, with the occasional phone call — very expensive.

She finished her Masters in Meso-American Cultures. She was waiting for me when I got off the plane. We must have made quite a scene; we got an ovation and a few whistles. It was as though we were back at that bluff. We were back on that bluff. We’ve been there ever since. I just need to look into those eyes and I’m there. The stars are still there. We fall every time. Some things are meant to be, meant to last.