The Nostalgia Effect

by EJ Valson

  Agony swells inside of me, but I do my best to conceal it. What car accident? How did this happen? Did she suffer? It isn't supposed to be like this! How has everything gone so wrong?

  Several minutes go by in silence. I need the quiet to process what I've just been told. "Thank God for Mary," my dad chimes in, clearing his throat. I can tell he's holding back tears. "If not for her help through that tough time I don't know what any of us would have done," he says.

  "Well, I'm a nurse, it was my job," Mary says humbly.

  The bits of information they've unknowingly provided swirl in my head. I want to ask for more details, but I know it will concern and confuse them.

  I take a deep breath and nod in agreement, though I don't know what I'm really agreeing with. "Sorry guys, I don't know where that came from," I apologize.

  "It's alright," they both say in unison.

  I meet Mary's gaze. "And you're fine with having that picture here?" I ask her, while pointing to the picture of Nancy.

  A smile sweeps across her face and her eyes soften, "Of course, Jen. She will always be a part of your family. When I was taking care of her, I saw the love you all had for her and I would never try to interfere with that," she assures me.

  To some degree it's beginning to make sense. Mary must have been taking care of Nancy after some tragic accident. All I can assume is that it was bad, and she must have had injuries that required hospitalization and later they contributed to her death.

  I shake away the images my mind is generating. I can't think about it any longer. In some small way, I'm grateful that I can't remember it at all. Not having her here in this version of my life is painful enough.

  I shrug off my emotions and try to put back on a charade of normalcy. I stay another thirty minutes or so, observing their interactions with each other. It's friendly and loving, but it's still not the same as him and Nancy. Mary is an attractive woman, with hair that's almost white. She is a little plump and probably closer to sixty than my dad. She has a golfer tan and a visor line. The thought of them golfing together makes me happy. At least he has someone nice in his life and he's not alone.

  I give both of them hugs when I say goodbye, then drive back toward Joe's house. Anxiety butterflies began to flutter in my stomach when I see his truck in the drive. But the butterflies are quickly followed by excitement from the realization that my little Olivia is inside and I get to see her again. I quickly check my face in the visor mirror for mascara streaks and tear tracks, before getting out of the car.

  As I walk to the front door, I hear Joe's favorite country music album playing from inside the house. It's been a long time since I've listened to that genre. The smell of freshly chopped onions immediately greets me when I open the door. Joe's in the kitchen flattening hamburger patties and singing out loud, along with the music. This is a side of him that I occasionally saw at parties or when friends were over and he'd had a few beers. Tonight there isn't a beer bottle or can in sight.

  "Hey, babe," he says with a smile when seeing me.

  "Hi," I reply, a little surprised by his chipper behavior.

  While he continues with his burger preparation tasks, I put down my purse and take off my shoes. The thumping sound of little feet quickly approaches me from behind. Two chubby little arms wrap snuggly around my legs.

  I gently break free from Olivia's grasp and turn around to pick her up. Her rosy cheeks are plumped with a big smile. She places her tiny hands on each side of my face and looks into my eyes. "Mommy, you're home!"

  CHAPTER 14

  Seattle

  I awaken to the sound of a man singing in the alley two stories below, as he walks past our window. It's early morning. My head is heavy from the fun we had the night before. The room is gray and beige. Misty cloudy light from the Seattle sky is trying to squeeze into the room through the crack in the curtains. I don't want it to. I don't want to leave this room or the uncomfortable queen-size bed.

  I can smell cigarette smoke coming from underneath the door that connects to the adjoining room. This has to be the worst hotel I have ever stayed in. But it was cheap, and the point of coming to Seattle for the weekend wasn't for us to stay in our room.

  I fight the urge to cough. I will my eyes to close and my body to fall back to sleep. I can feel the heat of his body radiating towards mine as we lay back-to-back, respectfully maintaining just enough space to be just two friends sharing a bed, but still aware that we are in it together.

  Some people who know us think we're more than just friends. Others insinuate that we are sleeping together and that I've taken advantage of this young guy who will only be in the United States temporarily. But I wouldn't do that. Either would he. We have never crossed the line of friendship by being physically intimate. We hadn't intended on sharing a room, but circumstances with the friends we were traveling with changed our sleeping arrangements. Happy accident.

  We took a weekend getaway to see the sites Seattle had to offer. Neither Michael nor I had ever been there. He wanted to see a bigger city before he had to return to Sweden in two weeks. I wanted to share that with him.

  Now I lay here with someone I've only known for a short while, but feel like I have known my whole life-and maybe even a few before this one. I stare at the wall, remembering the conversation we had yesterday afternoon when we were supposed to be resting before we headed out to dinner and dancing.

  Unable to nap, we ended up talking about him leaving and how grateful we were to have met and become good friends.

  "Jen, you need to stop trying to be so strong all the time," he had observed. "You are a good person and you need to put your guard down and let someone love you."

  "So do you," I teasingly retorted with a smile.

  He'd had a hard time making direct eye contact with me. I could tell he wasn't used to being so honest about his feelings.

  "You've restored my faith in women," he said. Then he sheepishly grinned. "But I'm not done with you yet...I'm going to marry you one day."

  CHAPTER 15

  Over the past few weeks I've spent most lunch breaks in my office reading the book Astrid gave me. It's been fascinating to read about real past life regression sessions-transcripts of men and women being put into an almost hypnotic state to open their soul to lives lived before the one they are currently living. I could relate to them.

  Luckily, the book doesn't mention anything ridiculous about people finding out they were the King of England or a famous actor. It focuses on one's spiritual purpose for being on earth and what their soul is supposed to achieve. There are also chapters about finding the common theme or scenario between lives. I wonder if there's a lesson to be learned or a goal to be met in my predicament. I begin to compare my life with Joe and my life with Michael. There must be some parallel between the two that has brought me to the time I'm currently in.

  Lately, I am starting to feel more at ease in this "new" old life. We have a routine and that helps me feel more grounded. Every day is pretty much the same. We get out the door, go to work, make dinner and play with Olivia before she goes to bed. Joe occupies himself with the television each night. He doesn't seem to care that I retreat to the bedroom to read my book before bed. Luckily, he has no knowledge of what the book is about, and hasn't bothered to ask why I read it so much.

  He doesn't ask much of me as far as being a partner either. We seem to be quite content with this. He was one who always liked to have time to himself after a hard day's work. I don't make a big deal about it if he wants to head to his brother's house to work on his motorcycle or some other project they want to do. His absence just makes it easy for me to go about this life anyway.

  He hasn't tried to be particularly physical with me since the first night I was here either. Joe gets a quick peck on the lips before he leaves each morning and that seems to be enough for him. I get through it by closing my eyes and imagining Michael. I hope Michael will forgive me in the future for this. I do it for Olivia. If I'm stuck her
e for the rest of my life, then I want her to have a better example of loving parents than Joe and I gave her the first time around.

  Though I don't want to be in this marriage in any way, I've decided not to rush to leave Joe. After all, what's the point? And I'm afraid to do anything that could disrupt my future life. What if I take the wrong path and veer off so far that I make it worse?

  Some people say that you control your destiny while others say that fate will always have the same outcome regardless of your actions. No matter where you go or what you do, you will always arrive at the same destination. But I'm not so sure about that.

  CHAPTER 16

  It's Friday, thank GOD! However, I'm feeling a little anxious about this weekend, as we're going to the wedding of some old high school friends. In fact, Joe is an usher and I'm in charge of the guest book. The stress of having to greet a bunch of people who I seldom see in the future is adding to my nerves. We live in a small town, so everybody knows everybody. It will literally be like a mini high school reunion. In the future, I do my best to prepare for these kind of events in advance by buying a new dress, tanning and getting my hair done. Based on my closet and current hairstyle in this version of life, I guess I simply don't care.

  It's quiet in the office today, as Ruth has headed to her lake cabin. Marketing is having their "Casual Friday," which means they're all wearing jeans and will go to happy hour after work. I laugh to myself because I was the one who originally implemented that tradition. I guess it happened anyway.

  At three o'clock I head to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. Normally I don't drink coffee in the afternoon, but I haven't been sleeping well at night so I need the "pick me up" to get through the rest of day. I often have dreams that cause me to wake up suddenly and I can't go back to sleep afterwards. I just lay there trying to determine if I'm having memories or making things up.

  I lean against the counter while the fresh pot of coffee brews. I hear footsteps coming around the corner, then Stacy appears from behind the side of the divider wall. ?"Hi!" she says, chipper.

  "Hi," I say smiling back.

  She is dressed in a pair of sailor jeans with a cute blouse and colorful flats. She's always had the best style. She is tall and curvy, with long blonde hair and a very pretty face. She opens the fridge and pulls out a bag of baby carrots. Though she's right in front of me, I miss her. We always had so much fun working together.

  I fidget with my coffee cup, not sure how to keep the conversation going. "So, do you have any fun plans this weekend?" she inquires, making small talk-one of her many talents. Her networking skills were always exceptional. This is why she later became the department director.

  I get excited at the chance to visit with her. "Well, we're going to a wedding tomorrow night. I'm in serious need of something to wear, though," I laugh nervously.

  "Ohhhh...sounds like a good excuse for a shopping trip," she says with a wink.

  I nod in agreement. "Wish I could, I just don't know where the best place to shop is," I respond.

  "Well, what are you looking for?" she asks, cocking her head to the side.

  I look down at my sad excuse for a summer outfit-a long plain red floral skirt and a white t-shirt sweater. "Anything better than this," I respond sarcastically.

  "There's a new store at the mall," she suggests. "In fact, I'm heading there tonight. Do you want to go with?" she asks.

  I am thrilled at this prospect. I need a girlfriend, and more importantly, I need her. She was always my best shopping buddy.

  I light up. "Sure!" I say. We make a quick plan for her to swing by my place and pick me up around five-thirty. When I get back to my desk, I call Joe on his cell. I have no idea if he will be agreeable to this. Michael would be, but Joe might be tighter with the wallet. He was in my "other" past. The phone rings a few times before he picks up. I can tell he's outside, based on the hammering in the background.

  "Hi, Joe," I say formally.

  "Hey, what's up?" he asks, sounding distracted.

  "Would you mind if I go shopping with a friend from work tonight?" I ask.

  "Uh....sure, I guess." he says hesitantly.

  I'm immediately annoyed even though I don't I care if he's not OK with me going. Mostly I just don't want to leave Olivia with him if he's going to be moody. And I really don't like being at his mercy. After all, the bank account is combined.

  He breaks the brief spell of silence on the line. "I was going to take you shopping on Sunday for your birthday, but if you want to go tonight I can just give you the money that I was going to spend on you," he explains.

  My heart lifts a little. I look at the wall calendar. Holy crap! I am going to turn twenty-six on Sunday! This happened to be one of my favorite ages. Probably because it was the year I met Michael and my life changed for the better.

  "Are you sure?" I say timidly, secretly hoping he is.

  "Yeah, babe. You know I'm not the best person to shop with," he jokes.

  I say a big thank you and hang up, then hurry back down to Stacy's office and poke my head in. "OK, we're set!" I say, with a thumbs up.

  "Great!" she responds.

  I walk back to my office with a smile on my face. I'm feeling a little hint of my real life in my bones again.

  CHAPTER 17

  The evening with Stacy is exactly what I need. We make friendly small talk during the short twenty-minute drive to the mall. Everything Stacy is telling me about her life I've already heard before. But I act interested and respond accordingly. I tell her my short life summary, sans the trapped-in-time part, and we laugh at the same things.

  ??

  I'm thrown even farther back into my past with her when a mutually favorite song comes on the radio. In the old days, or the days that haven't happened...or never did, we used to blast this song on our way into town when we had a girl's night. She introduced me to so many different types of music, and I'll be forever appreciative of that.

  We have a quick bite to eat at a popular hamburger place, then head into the mall. We hurriedly make our way through the stores we loved to shop at together in the future, though she doesn't know that. I stock up on shorts, shirts, jeans, shoes and better work attire, plus a nicer purse and a summer dress for the wedding, complete with espadrilles. My future life taste is influencing my past life look.

  Joe had thoughtfully given me a birthday card with $300 cash before I left to shop. I gave him a sincere hug and a longer kiss on the lips than usual. I was grateful for his gesture. He told me to have a good time, and then he and Olivia headed out to his parents' for pizza. This Joe is seemingly a better version of the one I knew before.

  Stacy and I are efficient shoppers, as always, and I'm pleased that I fit into most everything I find. Even if I'm smaller in this life, my muscle tone leaves something to be desired. My long skinny legs aren't as tan as they usually are in this season. The modest bras I'm wearing have no wires for support. My midsection could be a little flatter and my arms a little more defined. While looking at myself in the dressing room mirror, I mentally commit that I will fix all of this soon by bringing my future life fitness focus to my current life's out-of-shape self.

  By 9:00 p.m. I've spent nearly every penny Joe gave me and I have much to show for it. I can practically replace everything I currently have in my closet and feel like a new person, which is even more important to me now.

  On the way back to the car I ask Stacy if she knows a good place to get my hair done. She recommends a salon that's still around in the future, then pulls out her cell phone and dials a number. Within five minutes she has managed to get me into her personal stylist the next morning. This is one of the things I love most about Stacy. She makes things happen and always with a positive attitude.

  Maybe I need to follow her example.

  CHAPTER 18

  Saturday morning I wake up to the sun shining brightly through the bedroom curtains. I feel refreshed and excited to reveal my new old self with an updated haircut and cl
othes. After hurrying out of the shower, I quickly dress, kiss Olivia and Joe goodbye and rush out the door with a cup of coffee in my hand.

  I admire the beautiful day as I drive to the salon. Upon arrival, I'm immediately greeted by the hair stylist at the front desk. When she takes me back to her chair I tell her to keep it long, add layers and put in whatever color she wants. This blessing on creative liberty pleases her. I sit down, lean back, relax and let go. Today will be a good day.

  After three hours in the chair I'm finished. I rush home and hurry through the front door, preparing to apologize for taking so long. When I walk in, Joe stops what he's doing and stares at me.

  "Wow," Joe says. He's smiling and looks pleased. I stand there for a moment, not knowing what to say. "You look really nice, babe," he says coming over to look at the golden honey highlights woven into my dark hair. He pulls me in close, then reaches around my back and grabs my butt.

  "Hey," I say nervously, pulling back but trying to hide that I'm avoiding him.

  "What? You look hot," he says, getting frisky. I look around him to see where Olivia is. He notices. "Don't worry, she's napping," he says, as he leans in closer to kiss me. My body tenses. I'm not supposed to do this. I'm married. Well, somewhere else I am-to someone else!