Seems Like Old Times

by Joanne Pence

  "That's too bad."

  Vic gazed hard at Lee. "Maybe. Maybe not."

  Lee stepped back. "Please excuse me. I think I'l1 get something to eat."

  "Good idea, Lisa," Cheryl said. "Will you join us, Vic?"

  "No, thanks. So long, Cheryl. Lisa."

  "I don't understand," Lee said to Cheryl when they were alone, "what I ever did to that man. He's always so unfriendly."

  "I doubt you did anything to him, Lisa. You never can tell about people."

  Lee wouldn't give in to the desire to look back over her shoulder in the direction Vic had headed. Vic was certainly one Santos she didn't have on her 'side' as he so nastily put it. She told herself she was glad to hear Tony was most likely not going to show up here today.

  She sat at a table eating a barbecued hamburger when Ben ran up to her. She quickly glanced around, but his father wasn’t near.

  "Hi, Lisa!"

  "Hello, Ben. How are you today?"

  "Fine. Look." He held out a small metal car. "It's a Porsche 911, turbo charged cabriolet, with a slope nose and front and rear spoilers."

  "My goodness! You do know a lot about cars." It was hard not to respond to his contagious enthusiasm.

  "I know all about Porsches. I'm going to own a whole bunch when I get big--maybe when I'm sixteen. My dad said I can't drive until then. There are some neat fish in that pond over there. Do you want to see them?"

  "Fish? Oh, okay."

  She was glad for an excuse to leave Cheryl’s family, and happily walked to the pond with Ben. Or, more correctly, followed him. He ran ahead and it was only because he looked back to be sure she was coming that she knew he expected her company.

  When she caught up to him, he was standing on a flat stone, bending forward and peering into the pond. She put her hand on his shoulder, fearful he might tumble head first into the water.

  "Do you know what those are?" Ben pointed.

  She bent forward almost as far as the boy. "Oh, God, we had to learn their names in the sixth grade, I think. Let's see. They're mostly varieties of goldfish, as I recall."

  "Except for the sturgeon and the blue whale," a familiar voice added.

  She straightened and turned, a smile on her lips at the sound of Tony's voice, a smile that grew broader at the sight of him in a turquoise tank top that showed off well tanned, muscular shoulders and gave a blue shininess to the rich black of his hair. But her smile fell away quickly when she noticed a young woman clutching his arm. The woman was short, with auburn hair and brown eyes, and had the kind of body that men got whiplash following. Her white stretch halter-top and the jeans she must have been poured into only enhanced the effect. She had a soft, cuddly look, with plenty to cuddle.

  "Hi, Dad. Hi, Trish," Ben called. "Lisa's gonna tell me all about the fish."

  "You must be Lee Reynolds," Trish said, with a breathy catch to her voice. "The whole town is talking about you. I've heard about your fame since I was a little girl, and to think you're here now!"

  Lee smiled at the young woman while contemplating tossing her into the pond.

  "Let me introduce you two," Tony said. "Lee Reynolds, Trish Hollingsworth." There was an odd expression on his face, then it vanished so quickly that it could have been her imagination.

  Lee cast a puzzled glance at Tony, so foreign was it to hear him refer to her as Lee.

  "So nice to meet you," Trish said. "My goodness, you're not nearly as old as I imagined." Lee was stunned. At least when Miriam was told almost the same thing, it was a compliment. The young woman smiled sweetly while leaning against Tony as if she were in danger of swooning in awe.

  Lee's teeth ached. She regarded Trish with unflappable coolness. "It's always a pleasure to meet a fan," she said placidly. "How fortunate you came along. Ben and I were just discussing slimy things...in the pond."

  While Trish was still trying to decide whether she'd just been insulted, Lee gave her and Tony a dismissive smile and turned back toward the water.

  Tony choked back a cough and walked to Lee's side. She glanced again at his turquoise tank top and jeans, and grew acutely aware of the amount of bare flesh close to her, and of how well formed and muscular his upper torso had grown. She looked at his dusky, mysterious eyes, at his mouth. The mouth that had taught her how to kiss.

  He seemed to stare at the pond with singular intensity, hands on back pockets of his cut-offs, feet spread so his weight was evenly balanced. She tried not to glance at him, tried to concentrate on the fish, but inside she was a tumult of emotions, not the least of which was chagrin that she had stooped to exchanging jabs with the woman he was obviously involved with. She had no right.

  "The big black one is a carp." Tony pointed at it, his bare arm disturbingly close to hers.

  "That's right. I remember now." She sidestepped away from him.

  Tony drew back, irritated with himself for feeling upset at her coldness toward him, her obvious withdrawal. Christ, but he was a fool. He’d spent the whole week thinking about her, first with curiosity after seeing her at Ben’s game, then with much more after talking at Big Bob’s and the Pizza Palace. A few moments of clarity hit and he knew he was setting himself up for a big letdown when she left. But that hadn’t been enough to keep him from standing too close to her in a darkened parking lot, or from dreaming about her at night in his empty bed.

  He gazed at her calm, disinterested profile a moment. She’d surprised him again when he joined the picnic and saw her surrounded by admirers. His vow to stay clear of her lasted pretty long, too...until he saw Ben standing with her, talking with her, right where he wanted to be.

  "When I heard Ben was over this way, I was worried because of the pond," he said, trying to offer some reason for his presence, any excuse but the real one. I miss you, Lisa. "I see he's in good hands. I guess I’ll get going. Don't be a pest, Ben."

  "It was good to see you today, Tony. And Trish." She gave each a nod. They said their good-byes. Lee faced at the pond, as the couple walked away, but not too many seconds passed before she peeked in the direction they had gone. His arm was casually draped around Trish’s shoulders, her arm around Tony's hips, her thumb hooked onto the belt of his jeans, and her fingers splayed almost to his hip joint.

  How could he allow that ridiculously young...

  Tony glanced back over his shoulder and caught Lee's eye. She snapped her head toward the pond once more, but not before she felt her face turn a fiery red.

  Soon, she and Ben returned to the picnic area. Cheryl and company were engrossed in conversation, and Lee decided not to disturb them. She spread out one of the blankets Miriam had brought. She sat and Ben joined her.

  He told her about school, about his friends, about baseball, and a whole lot about Porsches. After a while, he raced off to play with other kids. A couple of minutes later, though, he was back. "I thought you might not want to be alone," he said, joining her on the blanket once more. "I think a lot of people here are kind of scared of you ‘cause you’re on TV."

  His perception astonished her, and warmth spread through her at his thoughtfulness. "I’d love your company, Ben. But I don’t want to stop you from playing with your friends if you'd like."

  He wrapped his arms around his knees. "No. I can play with those kids any time. Anyway, you're okay to talk to."

  A dozen locks couldn't have stopped her heart from opening to him at that moment.

  "If you wait here, Lisa, I’ll get a surprise for you."

  "A surprise?"

  He scampered off again, and in a little while he returned, carrying tiny lavender and pink wild flowers.

  He held them toward her. "Here."

  "Oh, Ben." She felt a tightening in her throat and held the few scrawny flowers as gently as if they were precious jewels. "They're beautiful."

  His chest puffed up. "I'd have picked some of the big flowers, but the people at the park would get mad. I scraped my arm."

  "You what?" she said, not used to his sudden jumps from one
subject to another.

  "See?" He lifted his arm. Right below the elbow was a scrape.

  "Oh, dear!"

  "I fell."

  She carefully lay the flowers on the ground, then rocked herself up and onto her knees so she could look at the scrape more closely. It was very small, and there was no blood. She kissed the first two fingers of her own hand, then lightly pressed her fingers just to the side of his wound.

  "What are you doing?" Ben asked.

  She sat back on her heels. "That was a kiss to make it better. I'll bet it already doesn't hurt nearly as much."

  He stared hard at the scrape, then sat facing her on the blanket. He crossed his legs Indian style. "Hey, you're right."

  "I guess your dad doesn't do that."

  "Heck, no." He laughed.

  "What about your mother?"

  His eyes wavered, then dropped to his lap. "I never see her. I don't think she likes me much."

  Her gaze snapped to Ben’s face, not believing what she had heard. But the stubborn set of his chin told her she had heard exactly right. She had so little experience with children she didn't know what to say or do. All she knew was if she had a child this fine, he never would doubt her love.

  Awkwardly, she reached her hand out and ran her fingers through his black, wavy hair. It was thick, soft and shiny, and felt warm beneath her fingers. "I'm sure she loves you, Ben. I hardly know you and already, I think you're just about the best boy I've ever met."

  He lifted his eyes to her. "Really?"

  "Cross my heart and hope to die."

  Ben laughed. "Grown-ups don't say that!"

  She grinned. "But it's true."

  He studied her face. "Could you come to another one of my games?"

  Once again, he surprised her. "Well, I would like to, but I've got to go back to New York on Tuesday."

  "Hey, cool! My next game is Monday after school. You can come! It's kind of nice to have someone I know in the stands. Some kids have whole bunches of people."

  "I see," she murmured.

  Lee noticed his gaze hungrily following a boy carrying a soccer ball.

  "Looks like a game's going to start," she said. "How would you like to see what's happening down there for me, Ben?"

  "Sure!" He jumped up and ran off again. Lee's smile slowly faded as she watched him go, the words he had spoken settling into her heart.

  Alone again, she sighed and looked over the crowd. Her aunt was still with Gene Cantelli, laughing and having a good time. Cheryl was in the middle of her family, holding one of her nieces in her arm while seeming to be watching all the other children at the same time. Ben talked with a group of boys in a nearby meadow.

  Rarely was she around children in Manhattan, and it was even rarer for her to talk with one. But she enjoyed Ben's company. A child like that could be wonderful. Someone to love with no reservations, no hesitancy or fear. Someone to open her heart to, and let pour out all the feelings she kept so carefully locked inside.

  She leaned forward, her elbow on her knee and her chin resting on her hand as she watched Ben's soccer game slowly form.

  Bruce didn't much like kids. It was one of the many things that attracted her to him. Their plans had centered around career and travel, and left little time for anything else. They would have each other, and that was enough. She had no desire to have his--or any man's--child.

  She took off her hat and tucked Ben's flowers neatly into the band, folded the blanket, then, carrying both, walked back to the pond. She soon found herself on the far side of it, far from where people might pass, and where she wouldn't feel so conspicuous being alone at a picnic filled with families. She plopped down on some dry grass under an oak tree, kicked off her shoes. It felt almost wicked to run her bare feet over the slightly damped soil. She leaned back against the trunk, her chin tilted upward, and enjoyed the bright blue of the sky and the rich, lush green around her.

  Seeing Tony with a girl earlier today by the pond shouldn't have surprised her. He was an attractive man. He always had been. She wondered how serious he was about this Trish Hollingsworth.

  Tony being serious about another woman, despite his marriage, even despite Ben, was foolishly hard for her to handle. In high school, she had been the one with other dates, largely to keep Judith happy, but also, it helped her to know that other boys found her attractive. Back then, anything that built up her ego was welcomed and sought after, particularly because she wasn’t close to being the beauty her mother had been. As Judith had constantly reminded her, she was too tall, too angular, and too flat-chested.

  Tony went out with a few other girls. But even when he did, she knew with absolute certainty, that she was the one he liked best, and most wanted to be with. But then high school was a long, long time ago.

  Although she thought she had no memory at all of this area of the park, as she looked around she realized that, in fact, she did. Was that why she had come here?

  The thought was jarring--as so many thoughts had been since she'd returned to Miwok. For seventeen years she had purposefully put Miwok and its people out of her mind, but now the memories wouldn’t stop. Her forehead ached with remembrances she wouldn't let escape.

  The first time she and Tony met they had just stared at each other. The second time they shared Twizzlers as he’d walked with her to class, and after that, it was as if a dam had burst. She met him in the school library, in line at the cafeteria, at the gym. And somehow they began talking after school, between classes, at lunch. She had liked his sensitivity and compassion, and admired his dreams to be a pro-baseball player. In him, she recognized a kindred spirit with hopes for a brighter, bigger, more meaningful future than could be found in little Miwok, California. They would spend hours discussing their plans and ambitions. She liked the way he laughed and the way he made her laugh. But most of all, she liked the way he accepted her without condition--her faults as well as her accomplishments. He made no demands, set no expectations to be fulfilled before love was granted. Who she was, what she was, had been fine with him. She’d never been loved that way before. Or since.

  As her gaze swept over the landscape surrounding the clear waters of the pond, she found the spot she sought. But the bench was gone now, and she couldn't pick out the exact spot where it had been.

  Not that it mattered....

  o0o

  By April of their sophomore year, Lisa and Tony had been friends for six months, which was an eternity back then, when every minute was so full time lasted forever. They sat on a bench in Settlers Park, having walked there after one of Tony's baseball games. Since he was young, he was only on junior varsity, not the big team, but the coaches were letting him do a lot more than warm the bench. He played third base, shortstop, and on occasion, pitched.

  A chilling breeze was in the air. Lisa wore a quilted jacket, and Tony, a blue zip up with the words Miwok Mustangs in white letters across the back. In back, his hair fell in thick waves to the collar of his jacket.

  In Miwok, new leaves glistened on the oaks and the pastel flowers of spring painted the area. Lisa turned to Tony to give him her news.

  Stompin' Steve Peters had asked her to go with him to a movie on Saturday night, and all day she had floated somewhere between seventh heaven and cloud nine. Stompin' Steve was the star running back on the football team and he was a junior. Everyone just knew he was going to be student body president in his senior year, and even more of a football star. Yet, he’d asked her out, and she was only a sophomore. Everyone thought he was crazy about Amy Dunkirk. They were sure wrong.

  "You're going out with that fat ass jellyfish?" Tony jumped to his feet, waving his arms around. "That pile of muscular manure who shoves other people around and calls himself an athlete!"

  Lisa sat sideways on the park bench facing him, one leg curled on the bench, her elbow on the backrest. "You sound jealous. It's not as if you and I are going together, or anything."

  "Jealous? Me? Of the creature that ate Oakland? Fat chance
!" He flopped down beside her, hands on his thighs, legs outstretched.

  "You can go on dates, too, you know." She leaned toward him, her eyes teasing. "Maybe sometime Steve and I will even double with you."

  He grimaced. "I don't think the Stomper would approve. It might interfere with his action."

  That gave her pause. "His what?"

  "Action, Lisa." He pulled himself up straight, his gaze intense. "You should hear him talk in the gym on Mondays. He's got more moves than an octopus, and old Amy Dunkirk was dumb enough to fall for everyone of them."

  "Oh?" In spite of herself, the corners of her lips turned down.

  He gripped the arm she had on the backrest. "You don't want to be the center of gossip, do you?"

  She yanked her arm free. "He wouldn't dare!"

  On his feet again, he paraded back and forth in front of her, hands on hips. "What makes you so sure? He'll be all over you!"

  She folded her arms petulantly. "What's wrong with a kiss? If I like him..."

  He stopped pacing, his thumb slowly rubbing his chin a moment as he looked at her. Again, he sat beside her, closer this time. Looking toward the horizon, he said in a very knowing voice, "I think I can guess what I'll be hearing about next Monday."

  Her head whipped toward him. "What?"

  "That Lisa Marie Reynolds can't kiss." A chortle erupted and he bent forward as it grew to a full belly laugh.

  She punched his arm. "What do you mean? Of course, I can!"

  "Yeah? I never heard that you went out with any guy who took you off to be alone."

  She gawked at him. "Why should you have? It’s not your business! Anyway, I've been kissed before, Tony Santos!"

  "Spin the bottle doesn’t count."

  She grimaced. "You are so funny."

  "Remember, Stompin’ Steve is an eleventh grader."

  Her chin lifted. "So?"

  "So? So, there's a technique to it."

  Her brow crossed. "And I suppose you know all about it?"

  "Sure."

  She gave him a sidelong glance. "How did you learn?"

  Now it was his turn to ease casually against the bench, his arms flung over the backrest, his face smug. "At my old school, I had an older girlfriend. She was seventeen."