Something



  Something

  By Ted Stetson

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  Three Door Publishing

  Copyright © 2011 Ted Stetson

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Cover art by Herman Brinkman

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  Contents

  Start

  About the Author

  Romance Stories by Ted Stetson

  Books by Ted Stetson

  Science Fiction Stories

  Fantasy Stories

  Other Books

  Find out more

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  Something

  One evening while driving through a section of town she hadn't been through in years, Joanne had a flat and pulled to the side of the road. As she stepped out of the car snow started falling.

  She was nervous with traffic racing past, but was going to change the tire herself when a pickup pulled up and she thought, ut oh. She looked around in case she needed help, but everyone was too busy driving past, watching the road to notice.

  The door opened; on the side was a gas station emblem, and a man stepped out. At first she didn't recognize him, and then she saw that smile. David? Oh my God, it was him. He was older and didn't have that graceful walk, but when he came close she saw those sensitive green eyes. His face was still rugged and handsome, but life had been very hard on him.

  She touched her hair, it was a mess. She sort of hoped he wouldn't recognize her. She had to admit she wouldn't have recognized herself, so much had happened over the years; marriage, childbirth, raising children, husband dying. But one look at him and she could see her life hadn't been as hard as his.

  "Got a flat?" he said.

  She nodded, her voice stuck in her throat.

  He took out her spare tire, but it was flat too.

  He filled the tire from a tank in the truck. He motioned at the gauge, how the tire wouldn’t hold the air pressure.

  “I can fix it at the gas station.”

  He put the spare on and added enough air pressure so it was drivable.

  She followed him back to the station. By now it was snowing very hard.

  She drove into the garage and he turned on the inside lights and a radio, doing everything he could to make her feel at ease. She was afraid it would be loud fast music, but it was an oldie station playing those great slow songs they used to dance to.

  She had this crazy desire to ask him to dance like old times, but she couldn't. And she couldn't stand there not saying anything. As if sensing her discomfort he suggested she go into the little office where there was a small heater. She stepped into the front. On the wall was a picture of a woman with two pretty daughters.

  It caught her. A sob squeezed her throat. She was glad he had found happiness and yet she wanted to cry. It would be another lonely Christmas for her, but he would be with family. She was glad for him, even though it hurt.

  She watched the snow falling outside. It was going to be a beautiful Christmas and she felt so down. She heard his steps coming and forced a smile onto her face.

  As he was swiping the credit card she said, "You have pretty daughters."

  "Proud of Jo and Anne. They live with their mother."

  "Been here long?" she said as she signed the credit slip.

  "Just bought it. My father used to own a station across town."

  She didn’t know if she was happy or sad he didn't recognize her.

  "Got in a car accident on my way to college and pop had to sell the station to pay the bills."

  That was the first she heard of an accident. "What happened?"

  "It's old business."

  "No, please tell me."

  "My buddy crashed his car and I was hurt bad." He told the story evenly, water over the dam. "Awhile before I could walk and all."

  Now that he mentioned it she recalled he did walk with a slight limp.

  "Thanks." She had to get out of there. No one had told her of a car accident. His friends and her friends didn't speak. His parents didn't want them dating.

  She drove home having a hard time controlling the car, she was shaking so much. He hadn't just run off and forgotten her. Then she recalled his daughters: Jo and Anne! Were they named after her? She nearly turned the car around, but after so many years he's probably forgotten. Then she remembered his mother’s name was Anne, so his daughter wasn’t named after her.

  The wind whistled outside, a blanket of snow covering everything but her memories. She tried to keep busy: beings in continuous motion can't think. But she thought and remembered. She felt she was going mad. All those years ago, she’d thought he’d dumped her, a college fling he got tired of. She’d been wrong. He’d been hurt and she went away to college.

  Dawn, her daughter, called. What time would she be coming for Christmas dinner? A thousand things she couldn't think about. Dawn and her husband were very nice, but since she'd been a widow she'd always felt like she was in the way. She said yes to whatever Dawn asked, and then she crossed her arms and stood at the window looking at the falling snow.

  Finally she put on a Simon and Garfunkel Golden Hits CD. Her grandson's huge teddy bear was nearby and she picked it up and danced around the room. Then she buried her face in the furry softness as memories and tears came tumbling back.

  It was the summer of her senior year in high school and she was working at the supermarket. At night she and her friends went to a local hangout. She would listen to the tunes, but didn't dance much. The grope and feel guys would ask, but she would say no.

  The moment he came in she spotted him; he had this way about him with blondish hair and sensitive green eyes. He walked past with easy grace like he played baseball. His friends were gawking at the girls and laughing among themselves. He was bashful and quiet, but had a smile that made her heart drum faster.

  His friends started asking girls to dance. They would get turned down and ask someone else. One of them said something to him and he got up and walked over and shyly asked her.

  She was going to say no when her friend said, "Go ahead."

  So she followed him to the dance floor. He wasn't a bad dancer. He was terrible. Her toes felt like mashed potatoes. He apologized so much she couldn't hear the music.

  When the song ended she went back to her table thinking he was following her, but when she turned he wasn't there. He was standing on the dance floor with this look on his face like he'd been struck by lightning. A warm blush filled her face and she quickly sat.

  From then on every slow dance he would ask and she was glad to say yes.

  About the third dance she said, "You only dance slow?"

  He looked at her with those sensitive green eyes and said, "I can't dance."

  "Can't prove it by me," she said.

  His face lit up and he laughed and she knew she loved him.

  "Joanne," she said introducing myself.

  "Me, David," he said like Tarzan did in the movies.

  They danced every dance, slow, fast, whatever, if music played they were together on the dance floor. From then on they went out every night. They were inseparable.

  The moment he got off work at his father's gas station he would pick her up. Most times they went to a burger place for dinner. Some weekends they went on a picnic.

  In the fall he was going back to college. He begged her to come with him, but she knew he couldn't afford to have her there. He could barely pay his own way. He said he would not go withou
t her, but she talked him into going.

  He said he'd write, but she was not too surprised when she didn't get a letter. She went to college but had to come home when her mother got sick. Life took a left turn and between work and caring for her mom she didn't have much time to think about anything.

  But over the last thirty years she'd thought about him off and on: whatever happened to David? She thought she was just his summer fling that he had someone else in college, and a thousand other things filled her mind.

  Now she knew what had happened and tears ran down her face. That old ache filled her heart again and she couldn't wait to accidentally bump into him again. No way was she going to lose him twice. No way was she going to spend Christmas feeling like a third wheel or feeling sorry for herself. No way was she going to wait for another accidental meeting.

  But he had daughters and that meant he was married or did it? He said they lived with their mother. Or did he? She was so emotional she was confused.

  She called the gas station.

  "Yardley's station," a voice, not David's, said.

  "Hello," she said doing the best she could to disguise her voice. "Mrs. Yardley said I should