The Ones That Got Away

by Lou Mindar

  “Are you good being by yourself?”

  “Not yet, but I’m getting there,” she said.

  Scott raised his beer. “To us, two people learning to be by themselves.”

  Sheri raised her beer and they clinked bottles. “Here, here.”

  They both drank from their beers and then became quiet. They cleared the table and Scott helped Sheri clean the kitchen. They made small talk, but their conversation had run its course.

  “I should probably get going,” Scott said. “Thank you for dinner. It was great.”

  “I wanted to ask you something,” Sheri said. “I hate to ask for another favor, but could you teach me how to kayak? I’ve always wanted to learn.

  “Of course. Plus, it would be nice to have someone to kayak with.”

  They made plans to meet up the next morning on the dock. Scott opened the door, thought about giving Sheri a kiss, then thought better of it. This wasn’t a date. It was just a neighborly meal.

  Sheri leaned toward Scott and kissed him on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

  Chapter 72

  March 1992

  They had been out on the water for about fifteen minutes when the first dolphin breached the surface right in front of them. Sheri gasped. “Scott, a dolphin.”

  “Just wait. There should be a couple more joining us.”

  As soon as he said the words, two more dolphin showed themselves, one on either side of them.

  “These three are out here a lot. I see them every few days,” Scott said.

  They were in the narrows between Big Pine Key and Howe Key, paddling north. The water was calm, a translucent blue-green color. Since it was Sheri’s first time, Scott didn’t want to stray too far from land. But he needn’t have worried. Sherri was a quick study, athletic and capable.

  When they reached the northern tip of Big Pine Key, they stopped on a sand bar and got out to stretch. Scott pulled a gallon jug of water out of his kayak and offered it to Sheri. She titled the jug up with both hands, letting the water flow into her mouth.

  “You’ve done this before,” Scott said.

  “When I was young, and my mom and dad were still together, we used to spend our weekends camping. I loved it, being out in the wilderness. When I’d get thirsty and didn’t want to bother with a cup, I’d drink right from the jug.”

  “I used to do the same thing,” Scott said. “But I’d do it from the milk jug right from the refrigerator.”

  Sheri laughed. “I guess we’re like a couple of wild animals.” She handed the jug to Scott.

  Far off, a dolphin jumped clear out of the peaceful water and re-entered with a quiet splash.

  “I’ve lived down here for a little over a year, and this is the first time I’ve seen a dolphin so close,” she said. “I need to get out on the water more often.”

  Scott looked at her and took a drink from the jug. The previous night, he had thought she was attractive, but today, she was absolutely glowing. Was this what was supposed to happen next in his life? Now that Holly was out of the picture, was he supposed to find someone else to share his life with? And even if he was, was he ready for another relationship?

  The moment reminded him of his kayak trip in Mexico with Gabby. In some ways, it seemed to Scott like that trip had happened a few weeks earlier. Of course, it had been many years ago. In fact, a lifetime ago. He shook his head and focused again on Sheri. “Ready to get back on the water?”

  They both got back into their kayaks and retraced the path they had taken earlier, paddling easily, in no rush to return. The splash of their paddles moving through water the only sound.

  Chapter 73

  March 1992

  Scott awoke and felt the warmth of Sheri’s body. He liked the feel of waking up with a woman in his bed, and he was hesitant to open his eyes lest the feeling go away. He’d stay in bed with her for as long as he could.

  The previous day had been a whirlwind in Key West. They went under the pretext that Sheri needed to shop for a few things, but all she bought was a T-shirt at a tourist shop. The rest of their time was spent walking Duvall Street, eating at Pepe’s, and drinking at Sloppy Joe’s, Green Parrot Bar, and Captain Tony’s. They were comfortably tipsy when they got home, and Scott invited Sheri into his house to continue their night.

  Deciding to go to bed with her was the easy part. But long-term, he wasn’t sure if they were supposed to be together or not. He assumed this lifetime was supposed to have been about Holly, but that scenario had played out badly. Was he supposed to find someone else? For that matter, was he supposed to do anything? He was living his fourth lifetime and he still didn’t know how this whole thing worked.

  She rolled over and put her hand on his chest. “I need to get going,” she said. “Can I see you later?”

  “We could have dinner tonight,” Scott said.

  “How about No Name Pub? I’m in the mood for their pizza.” She scooted closer to Scott and kissed him on the cheek before getting out of bed.

  Scott sat up and watched her dress. He wanted to say something profound or silly, anything as a parting line, but once she was dressed, all he could think of was “See you tonight.”

  She kissed him again, then she was gone.

  *

  No Name Pub was packed. It was the tail-end of high season, and the Keys were filled with snowbirds down for the winter from cooler climes. They’d be heading back north in a few weeks, but for now, they were filling seats.

  When they were finally seated, they were surprised to find that they liked the same pizza toppings: Italian sausage and fresh mushrooms with extra cheese.

  “Wow, that’s quite a coincidence,” Scott said. “Almost like we were meant to be together.”

  Sheri smiled and forced out a laugh. “Yeah,” she said, then looked away.

  Had he overstepped? Hell, it was an innocent comment, and besides, it wasn’t like they had just met. They had already slept together.

  Sheri looked around the restaurant and avoided Scott’s eyes.

  “Is everything okay?” Scott asked.

  Sheri smiled. “Yeah, well no, not really.” She looked down at her hand resting on the table.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Tonight is my last night here,” she said. “Tomorrow, I leave for San Francisco.”

  “Is this because of last night?” Scott asked.

  “No, this was planned. It’s been in the works for a while.”

  Scott tilted his head back and sighed. “Do you have to go?”

  Sheri reached across the table and held Scott’s hands. “It’s best that I go. I’ve been doing really well being by myself and learning to enjoy my own company,” she said. “If I stay here, we’re going to become a couple, and I’m not ready for that.”

  Scott thought about his previous unfulfilling life, spending his time avoiding relationships. Angelo had said life was meant to be spent with someone special. His father agreed. Now, Sheri was saying you shouldn’t be with someone else until you were happy being by yourself. Which was right? Why did relationships have to be so damned complicated? Scott took a pull from his beer and waited for Sheri to finish.

  “If I stayed, I know that I would fall for you,” Sheri said. “But since I’m not ready for a relationship, that wouldn’t be fair to either of us. And because I’m not ready, it ultimately wouldn’t work.”

  Scott nodded, although he really didn’t understand. What did it even mean to be happy being by yourself? Weren’t people social animals with a need to be with other people? He wanted to question her, to better understand what she was saying, but the pizza was ready.

  “Oh, this looks good,” Sheri said. She used the spatula to lift a piece of pizza and put it on Scott’s plate. Then she took one for herself.

  Chapter 74

  August 1995

  Scott had been by himself ever since Sheri left, and he still didn’t understand why learning to be happy being alone was so important. He had a few friend
s he’d go out with now and then, and he had dated a few women just to break up the monotony, but the truth was, he was lonely and miserable.

  There was something appealing about being self-reliant and not needing a love interest. He imagined a cowboy out on the range, loving life without the complications of a relationship. It sounded good in theory, but that wasn’t him. He spent a whole life trying to avoid relationships, and he knew for certain, he didn’t want to do that again.

  When his dad died, Scott flew to Chicago for the funeral. He went through the motions like he was sleep walking. He had helped bury his father twice before, and he didn’t want to do it again. After the funeral, once his mother was settled at home, Scott went for a drive.

  “Where are you going,” his mother asked.

  “I don’t know. I just thought I’d drive around a little bit. See the old neighborhood.” That was only half true. He had a pretty good idea where he was going to end up. He had learned Kathy’s address in St. Charles. What harm would it do to drive by?

  He drove by her place twice before parking down the street where he had a good view of the house. He felt a little bit like a stalker. What would he do if he saw Kathy? What was the goal of surveilling her?

  Kathy walked out of her front door, locked it, and got into her car. His heart jumped at the sight of her. She backed out of the driveway and pulled down the street. Scott followed.

  They ended up at a Mexican restaurant on Route 64, on the west side of town. Kathy parked and went in. Scott waited a few minutes, then followed her inside, taking a seat at the bar. From his vantage point, he saw Kathy and two other women at a table across the room, drinking and laughing.

  “Can I get you anything?” the bartender asked.

  The women were drinking margaritas in large, bowl-shaped glasses, so he ordered one for himself.

  The bartender sat the margarita in front of him. “Would you like a menu?”

  “No, thanks. Just the drink.”

  He nursed the margarita while Kathy and her companions ordered dinner and another round of drinks. One of the women, a heavyset brunette, got up from the table and walked by the bar on her way to the bathroom. Scott kept an eye out toward the bathrooms until he saw the woman retrace her steps past the bar. Scott stopped her.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “I saw you over at that table with your friends. Is that Kathy Fitzgerald you’re with?”

  The woman gave Scott a suspicious look, but then perked up at the mention of Kathy’s name. “You mean Kathy Yates? She hasn’t been Kathy Fitzgerald for several years. We’re here celebrating her divorce.”

  “No kidding,” Scott said. “We used to go to college together. Do you think she’d mind if I said hello?”

  The woman put her hand on Scott’s arm and guided him off the bar stool. “I’m sure she’d be thrilled.” She put her arm through his and they walked to the table, as if Scott was escorting her.

  “Kathy, I have an old friend here who’d like to say hello.”

  Scott leaned in toward Kathy and offered his hand. “Hi, Kathy. I’m Scott Thompson. You may not remember me, but we went to University of Illinois together.”

  Kathy seemed confused at first, but quickly recovered. “It’s been a long time, Scott. How are you?”

  “I’m well,” Scott said. “I understand you’re celebrating tonight.”

  “I guess Beverly told you.” She raised her margarita in a toast. “We’re celebrating my divorce. Would you like to join us?”

  Scott sat at the table with Kathy and her friends. When the waitress came, he ordered another round for the table. Beverly and the other woman, a red head, fell into a deep conversation about their jobs.

  “Do you think it’s wrong to celebrate a divorce?” Kathy asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess it depends on whether or not you’re happy to be divorced.”

  “Oh, I’m happy,” Kathy said. “The divorce was my idea. Even so, it feels wrong, like I’m celebrating my failure to have a good marriage.”

  Scott sipped his margarita from the large glass, making sure to get some salt from the rim as he drank. “I know what you mean. I’m divorced too. My wife cheated on me, so the divorce was my idea. Even so, I felt like a failure. Nobody gets married thinking they’ll get divorced.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I mean,” Kathy said. “The divorce was the culmination of our failure to make the marriage work. It seems wrong to celebrate that failure.”

  “So, why are you?”

  Kathy pointed at Beverly, deep in conversation. “She insisted. This was her idea.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Scott said.

  They both laughed and toasted with their margaritas.

  Being with Kathy again was invigorating. He felt the same as he had when they first met. There was an energy between them that Scott missed.

  “It’s time for us to get going,” Beverly said. “Are you going to stick around?”

  Kathy looked at Scott. He was hopeful she’d say yes, but he tried to look neutral.

  “I need to get going, too.” Kathy stood and offered Scott her hand. “It was good seeing you.”

  “You too,” he said. “Can I see you again?”

  “If we were six months or a year down the road, the answer would be absolutely, but the divorce is too fresh right now. I think I should take some time.”

  “Maybe I’ll look you up in six months.”

  Kathy hugged him. Having her in his arms felt so familiar, so natural. She kissed him on the cheek, then joined her friends as they left the restaurant.

  Even as he yearned to hold her again, he knew it was wrong. This life wasn’t for Kathy. He wasn’t sure who or what it was for, but it wasn’t for Kathy. They were different people than they had been the first time around. And they had different baggage. Kathy would have to find her own way through this life. He wished her well, and just like that, she was gone.

  Chapter 75

  December 2000

  The wind blew gently, creating small, rhythmic waves on Florida Bay. Scott lay back in his kayak, fifty yards off his dock, staring up at the stars, the placid waves rocking his boat.

  There was one thing he knew for certain. He lacked direction, living each day without purpose or meaning. What had he accomplished in this life? The whole reason he had been given another shot, he thought, was to build a life with Holly, but their life together had only lasted a short time. Then, he thought Sheri might be the reason for his return. Then Kathy. He’d even thought about skipping ahead and searching out Liz, who, because of his life with Holly, hadn’t ever met him.

  Thinking about these women and the purpose he’d assumed he’d been given in this new life made him feel shallow and selfish. Was being in a relationship the only thing he could do with his do-overs? Why did it have to be all about him and relationships? Why did he feel the need to constantly look inward? Couldn’t he use his fourth chance at life to impact the world in a positive way? Maybe it didn’t have to be all about him.

  But if that was the case, what could he do? How could he use his foreknowledge to the benefit of not just himself, but the world?

  The kayak bobbed in the peaceful waves. In his lifetime—his first lifetime—the worst thing that had happened was the September 11 terrorist attack. It would happen again in less than a year. Thousands died that day, and thousands more in the resulting wars. Widespread surveillance of American citizens, all in the name of safety and security, had been implemented. He had used his foreknowledge to make money, first through sports bets, then in the stock market. His foreknowledge had made him financially independent. But, what if, instead of using his knowledge to get rich, he used it to save the world, or at least make it a better, safer place?

  Sadly, he knew more about World Series winners and good stock buys than he did about the terrorist attacks on September 11. What he needed to do was sit down with a pen and paper and write down everything he remembered. There were less than ten months until the
attacks would occur. He’d need to act quickly.

  *

  Scott got up at the break of dawn and sat in his living room with a pad of paper and a pen. He had made a few notes the previous night, but he kept falling asleep. Finally, he decided to get a good night’s sleep and start fresh in the morning.

  He remembered that the first plane to strike the Twin Towers was American Airlines Flight 11 out of Boston. The second plane was a United Airlines flight from Boston heading to California, but he couldn’t remember the flight number.

  There was another plane that originated out of Washington that flew into the Pentagon, but he didn’t remember what airline that plane was from or the plane’s flight number. Finally, there was United Airlines Flight 93 out of Newark. That plane crashed in a field in Pennsylvania, rather than hitting its target, either the Capitol Building or the White House. The passengers had overpowered the hijackers, preventing them from carrying out their plans.

  Out of all the hijackers on all the planes, he only remembered one name. Marwan al-Shehhi was a terrorist who trained at a flight school in Venice, Florida in preparation for the attacks. Scott didn’t know much about al-Shehhi, how old he was, or if he was a leader or a follower in the terrorist plot. All he could remember was the guy’s name and where he had trained to fly. Scott also remembered what al-Shehhi looked like. He had seen the man’s face on television after the attack and the image had stuck with him.

  Scott looked at the yellow legal pad on which he had scribbled notes. There wasn’t much to go on. And with such precious little information, what was he supposed to do about it? He could share his information with the FBI, but he’d have to do it anonymously. Otherwise, they’d want to know how he knew about the plot. What if he went after al-Shehhi? Maybe he could eliminate the soon-to-be terrorist and the whole plot would fall apart.

  He didn’t have many options, and the ones he did have weren’t very good. After staring at the legal pad for several minutes, he tossed it on the coffee table and sat back on the couch. He stretched and let out a long sigh. He’d go after al-Shehhi.