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.