A Romance Meant to Be
Romance Story

A Romance Meant to Be

by Trigudis 17 min read 4.6 (11,600 views)
romance alzheimers fate
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Audio Narration

Life can take the most unexpected twists and turns. Mike Madden, in his wildest dreams, never thought that decades after his friend Paul Thorndike and Melissa Charles broke up, Mike and Melissa would find each other in a way that neither expected nor even wanted to under the circumstances that brought them together.

The story starts decades ago. Mike was a college kid dating Lorena Warwick, a girl he had met at one of those Friday night mixers that Lorena's college held in the main gym. Life was indeed good. Finally, after years of searching, he had a steady girlfriend. Paul, Mike's good friend, wanted what Mike had but couldn't seem to connect with the right girl. Lorena knew Paul through Mike and thought that Melissa, a friend she met through a Russian language class, would be a good match for Paul. She was right. Paul and Melissa connected and began dating.

Sometimes, the four of them would double-date, and that included overnight trips to the beach or the mountains. They weren't exactly Bob and Carol, Ted and Alice, a movie that included partner-swapping, though on one trip to the mountains, they did begin to play strip poker in their cabin. The game ended when Melissa, stripped down to her underwear, refused to go further. Those were the days, days that ended after two years. The couples split and moved on. Paul got involved with other women but never married. Lorena got married and stayed married. Mike got married, then divorced, same as Melissa.

Fast-forward a few decades. The world was a very different place, thanks to inventions like the World Wide Web and social media. People they hadn't seen or heard from in years were reconnecting through Facebook. Two of those people were Paul Thorndike and Melissa Fleming, nee' Charles. Paul was living in Seattle, while Melissa still lived in Maryland. For months, they texted, emailed and, on occasion, talked on the phone. Paul had family in Maryland (and friends that included Mike Madden) and would visit around his birthday in the fall. His next visit would be extra special because along with his family, he had plans to see Melissa, the ex-girlfriend he hadn't seen, save for a Facebook photo, in close to forty years.

Mike, being the sentimental guy he was, felt excited for Paul. In his spare time, he wrote romance stories, the staple of which were tales about former lovers who reconnected years later and then began a "second life" together. He sometimes imagined doing that with Lorena and might have tried had she not been married.

Paul was excited also and felt that "something" might develop. The timing was right; neither he nor Melissa, both in their sixties, were involved with anyone else. Yes, they lived three-thousand miles away from each other. However, if they formed a strong enough connection, it was a hurdle he felt could be managed.

Well, life has a way of stepping between the best laid plans and harsh realities. And Alzheimer's disease was one of those harsh realities. Balance issues were Paul's first symptoms. One doctor thought an inner-ear problem might be the cause. But then came other symptoms: memory loss and confusion. Finally, an MRI confirmed the terrible diagnosis. A doctor gave Paul "two good years left." Meaning, he could live independently for that long. He told Melissa who, like Paul, still looked forward to their "reunion." Months later, Paul fell in his apartment, and developed a bruised hip that turned into an infection. Admitted to a hospital, he underwent surgery. While hospitalized, he developed a bone infection in his lower spine. Antibiotics helped, but the infection kept returning. Meanwhile, Paul's cognitive abilities continued to decline. Lengthy conversations became impossible for him. Then he couldn't converse at all. Bed-ridden except when moved by wheelchair, he was placed in a nursing facility, then in hospice care. Death came peacefully while under sedation. There would be no reunion between Paul and Melissa.

Mike, through Facebook's message screen, informed Melissa who, because she and Paul had been Facebook friends, knew already. "Paul was such a good man," she wrote. "I know how tough this must be for you because you guys had been friends since grade school." She then brought up memories of that trip to the mountains, the laughs they shared and that game of strip poker. "I was pretty shy back then," she continued. "No way was I going to take my bra and panties off in front of you."

Mike responded with his own memories of that trip. The two flat tires he got after hitting a pothole, and that other trip, the one to Atlantic City where, at the Atlantic City Raceway, they saw some of the same bands that had played at the iconic Woodstock music festival

The communication kept going, mostly through the Facebook message screen. They began to converse (still written at this point) less about Paul and more about themselves, their kids and grandkids. Mike had a grown daughter from a live-in relationship and three grandkids, while Melissa had a grown son and daughter and three grandkids. Talk about good timing. Melissa had just retired from teaching, while Mike was on the verge of retirement from government service. Neither one had been in a serious relationship for a few years. Melissa took the next step. "Look, Mike, I haven't heard your voice in decades, and would very much like to. So, I think it's about time we exchange phone numbers."

Melissa had that same high-pitched voice he remembered when he called. She joked about it. "High-pitched but old, you mean."

"Ha ha. No, just old-der. Would you have recognized my voice had I just called out of the blue?"

"Honestly, no. But it's now coming back to me, the lovely baritone voice I remembered. Maybe you didn't know this about me, but I'm an opera lover who enjoys baritones more than tenors in the male characters."

"If only I could sing like Sherrill Milnes."

"Yes! Oh, what a voice. You like opera, too?"

"I do. Guess you didn't know that about me either. Not so much back in the day. An acquired taste, you know."

"It is. Well, well, this is a revelation."

"I'm sure they'll be others. So, I recall you had a younger sister named Bonnie. What's she been up to?" Silence. "Melissa? You still there?"

"Yes." Her voice had taken on a somber tone. "Mike, not to burden you with my troubles, but she's in hospice care in the final stages of Alzheimer's. She was diagnosed a year ago, and it's been a fast progression. Same as what happened to Paul. They don't give her more than a few days."

"Ohmygod, I'm so sorry, Melissa. That's one horrible revelation I didn't expect to hear. First Paul and now this. If there's anything I can do, please let me know."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. Fortunately, I have strong family support. We've been preparing for her passing. Well, as prepared as anyone can be." She paused. Then: "Mike, I'd like to get together with you. But right now..."

He heard her sniffle. "Melissa, I understand. I'd like to see you also. When you're ready, call me. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

Mike couldn't picture what Bonnie looked like. If he ever saw her, it was the one time that he and Lorena were at Bonnie and Melissa's house to meet Melissa and Paul there before a Saturday night double-date. It had to be a Saturday night because he recalled the girls' parents watching the Lawrence Welk Show. A vague memory at best.

He looked forward to seeing Melissa but kept his expectations in check. She was grieving and probably not in the mood to renew an old acquaintance. What were the odds that she'd call? He gave it fifty-fifty. Mike was close to his own sister and knew how he'd feel if something happened to her.

Meanwhile, he went about his business, doing what he did to keep busy and fulfilled: exercising, visiting with family and submitting his romance stories to his go-to publisher, a small online literary press that didn't pay much but liked his stories enough to publish many of them. Life was good and might even be better if he had a special woman in his life. Melissa? Now, that would be a strange twist, wouldn't it? In a nostalgic sort of way, he still thought of her as Paul's girlfriend.

Two weeks went by, then three, and Mike thought that seeing Melissa wouldn't happen. He nixed the idea of calling her, for he didn't want to feel like a pest, pushing for a date with someone still grieving over the death of a loved one.

Then, a month later...

"Hi Mike. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner."

"I understand. I guess you were busy helping to settle Bonnie's estate, all that stuff."

"Yeah, that was part of it. It's kept me and my brother-in-law very busy. And the other part, I just haven't been in the mood to socialize. But I have been thinking about you, about the communication we've had since Paul died. So, I'd like to see you. That is, if you don't mind being with a still grieving woman."

"No, I'm looking forward to it. Something light and casual. We could meet at Starbucks or a place like it. Your choice."

"Starbucks would be okay. But I was thinking of the Bauernschmidt Brewery. You've told me about bike rides you've taken around there, and I live just down the street. Weather willing, we could sit outside, share a brew and just talk. Does that work for you?"

"That will work just fine," Mike said. He was no stranger to the Bauernschmidt Brewery, having shared a few cold brews there with his cycling buddies following long summer bike rides in the area.

"Great. Meanwhile, I'd like to read one of those romance stories you told me you wrote. Can you send me one?"

"Sure. And listen, after reading, give me your honest opinion. Don't hold back."

Mike attached two stories to Melissa's email. He almost sent one of his stories about former lovers who meet years later. But then, in light of Paul's death, he realized that it hit too close to home. Instead, he sent one about a May/December romance, a young guy who connects with his divorced older neighbor. The other story involved a couple who met through their love of cycling.

The next day he got this email message from Melissa: "Loved them both! So tender and not unrealistic. You indeed have a way with words, Mike. You're very talented. Another thing -- and maybe I shouldn't tell you this -- but the one about the younger guy and older woman turned me on! The way you described the sex was so graphic, I almost felt it was me in bed with that young stud. Call me later today and we'll make plans."

Mike did, and the date was set for early Saturday afternoon. The forecast called for partly sunny weather, with temps in the mid-seventies, just about perfect for sitting out on the brewery's patio with a mug of brew.

Mike knew the area, semi-rural and scattered with homes sitting on big lots, and thus he had no trouble finding Melissa's house. In fact, it was her son's house, a sprawling brick and log rancher that sat on an acre and a half of ground. She lived there in a basement apartment as a "live-in babysitter," she had revealed, for her twin, four-year-old granddaughters and her ten-year-old grandson. This was the reversal of grown children living with their parents, Mike thought while pulling into the long driveway up to the two-car garage.

Mike had seen Melissa's Facebook profile photo, so he had a fair idea of what she looked like. Still, it had been over forty years since he'd seen her in person, and when she came out to greet him, he didn't think he'd recognize her if they happened to cross paths someplace else. Like in the photo, she wore her straight chestnut hair just past her shoulders, parted in the middle. Her bangs made her look a few years younger. She was still slim, but was she as busty as he remembered her all those years ago? He didn't think so. He knew at least one woman who got a boob job after divorcing. Had Melissa? He wasn't going to ask. Her tight, short-sleeved white blouse, matched with light blue slacks, accentuated her bustline.

Her arms were already extended for a hug when he alighted from his maroon Honda CRV. "Mike, great to see you," she said before they embraced.

"Great to see you, too," he said, fully aware that had Paul not become ill, Paul, not he, would be standing here hugging Melissa.

She parted, stepped back, then gave him the once-over. "You dropped some weight since back in the day, haven't you?"

Mike patted his stomach over his plaid long-sleeved shirt. "About twenty-five pounds. I'm doing more aerobics now, jogging and bike rides." He looked her over. "Looks like you've stayed like the slim girl I remember."

"Thanks. I exercise, but not as much as I should. Chasing the kids around keeps me moving."

'Speaking of kids, are they home?"

"No, my son Jared and Faith, my daughter-in-law, took them to the aquarium today. Maybe you'll meet them if they get back in time. Meanwhile, we can walk over to the brewery."

Mike was impressed with this magnificent property, one that included a fishpond. "The kids must love living around here," Mike said. "Everyone has a lawn big enough to play just about any ball game they want."

"That's true. While outdoors, I spend a lot of my time over there." She pointed to a property a couple houses away surrounded by fencing. "They raise horses and don't mind if we come over and pet them."

A two-lane road bisected the brewery from where Melissa and her neighbors lived. Along the shaded, two-hundred-yard walk, Mike wondered what her son Jared did to afford to live out here. Whatever it was, it obviously paid well. Mike lived in a semi-detached house in the same county, close to fifteen miles away. Relatively close, though compared with his congested, middle-class, rowhouse community, this place was in a different universe.

Upon entering the tap room, Melissa said, "You know, even though I live so close, I've only been here one other time. But you've been here a lot, right? With your cycling group?"

Mike nodded. He still admired this room, with its tons of wood from floor to ceiling, The bar was at the far end, with a chalkboard in back, listing the types of homebrew beers to be had. In colder weather, his group would opt to take one of the round tables scattered around the large room. But today was nice enough to sit outside.

Stepping up to the bar, Melissa ordered two lagers from the young female bartender. "This one's on me," she said to Mike.

From there, they took their mugs outside on the patio to a green, metal-framed table and set them down on the glass top. Mike took a swig, then said, "Melissa, if someone told me years ago that I'd be sitting here sharing a mug of brew with you...Well, I think you get the idea."

"I do," she said, brushing her bangs across her forehead. "You're talking about how life can be so unpredictable. The detours and paths we take, either by accident or choice."

He nodded. "Yes. I don't know about you and Paul, but Lorena and I were so intense and in love that we talked about marriage while still in college."

She chuckled. "No, it wasn't like that between Paul and I. Intense, yes. Love, not quite, although the breakup wasn't easy for me. I cried for a few days. So what happened between you and Lorena?"

"We fell out of love. Or at least I did. The euphoria wore off, the euphoria of being in love for the first time that I naively thought would last forever. Lorena knew better. Wise beyond her years, that girl."

"Yes, Lorena was very bright. She got As in Russian, while I squeaked by with Cs. You know, we drifted apart after you and she broke up and the semester ended. I hope she's doing okay."

"She's got a Facebook page. We're not friends but I can see enough to glean that she's doing well. She's still married, has four kids and at least five grandkids."

"Well, that's good. Speaking of drifting apart, that's what happened with me and my ex. Your experience also?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. She was more committed than me. So, after four years, I moved out. My daughter, as you know, was from a live-in relationship that should never have happened. That said, no regrets. My daughter Jennifer and I are very close, and her kids are wonderful. To that end, things worked out."

She nodded and took another swig. Then she said, "Somewhere I heard that we should wait until evening to see how the day turned out. Or something like that."

"Yeah, I've heard that one too. It makes sense. So, let me ask. How has your day been so far? Your day as defined for the, I don't know, the last three to five years."

"You're asking about my life post-divorce. In a word, peaceful. My ex and I fought a lot. It's a relief being out of that mess. Jared and Faith like me living with them. They get free childcare; I come and go as I please and never get in their way. Plus, I'm living in a safe, scenic area. What's there not to like?"

"No boyfriend?"

She laughed. "I've been out with exactly one guy since my divorce. One guy and one date."

"It didn't go so well I gather."

"Not bad. But I realized I wasn't ready to hop back into the dating scene. I mean, I haven't dated since meeting my husband. At my age, I want to keep my life as simple as possible. So, what about you? From that story about those cyclists, I'd guess that you were involved in a similar romance."

"Yeah, I was a few years ago that ended amicably. Write what you know and I did. But no significant other right now. I feel as you do about the dating scene. I did check out a dating web site for senior adults. But, I don't know, I'm not sure that's for me. People tend to misrepresent themselves on those dating sites. That's not to say I've given up on romance, of finding that so-called significant other." He grinned flirtatiously. "Have you?"

"Um, well, no, I haven't given up. But like you, I don't think dating sites are my thing. At our age, meeting people isn't what it was in the days of those college mixers. I believe you met Lorena at one of them."

He nodded. "That's right. I can even remember what we wore. You remember details like that from meaningful moments in your life."

Wrapping both hands around her beer mug, she smiled and said, "Years from now, will you remember what I'm wearing?"

He wasn't sure how to take that. Was she suggesting something beyond what they were doing now? "If you're asking if this is a meaningful moment, the answer is yes. I'll remember what you're wearing because it is meaningful. If we never see each other after today, I'll still feel that way, if for no other reason than you're a connection to two people I was once very close to, Lorena and Paul."

She nodded. "I understand. But you know what? I'd hate to think that this is the last time we see each other. Also, I want to be more than just a connection to someone else. These last few weeks of communicating first through Facebook and then by phone, tells me that we've formed a connection all our own, regardless of how we met years ago."

"No argument here, Melissa. Even before we began talking on the phone, I sensed that something special could develop between us. We seem to get each other. But I didn't want to push anything. Paul had just died and your sister was dying, and I thought that I'd be just a footnote in your life, someone you once knew through a friend but not much else."

She reached across the table and took his hand. "Listen, you're much more than just a footnote. In my book, you're on the first page of a story that I hope will have subsequent chapters."

Mike placed his hand on top of hers. "You know, I usually don't ask a woman if I can kiss her. Rather, I just kind of move in and hope she meets me halfway. So, mind if I kiss you?"

"Mind? I'd only mind if you left here today without kissing me. And I'll meet you more than halfway." She slid her chair close enough to his where they were just inches apart. She then brushed her hair back and leaned into him. "How's this? Close enough for you?"

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