(I have noticed an interesting pattern in the feedback to my romance stories. Almost all of the response from women has been positive about how slowly the stories start and how much it helps build the passion. Most of the response from men has been how bored they were with the story and how they never finished it. No wonder women are frustrated with men sometimes).
I ran into Stef at the restaurant. The last time I had seen her she was 12 years old and playing on a swing set in the back yard of my best friend Nathan's house. I had known her all of her life, having been at the hospital with Nathan when she was born. I think I was the first person besides him to see her, smiling through the window of the newborn "display" in the pediatric wing. Since she was old enough to talk, I had been her Uncle Kyle.
She was with a group of girlfriends at the bar, I guess waiting for a table to open. She looked at me curiously; like you do when you think you recognize someone but aren't really sure. I smiled and waved at her letting her know that it really was me. She excused herself quickly and weaved her way excitedly through the crowd toward me. She reached me with a giggle and wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing my cheek.
"Hi Uncle Kyle," she said into my ear over the noise. "My God, I haven't seen you for so long."
"Yeah Stef. What has it been .. 10 years?"
"Well, I'm 25 now so you do the math."
She took my hand and re-traced her path through the crowd to her friends. She introduced them to me but I really wasn't paying attention... you know how it is when you meet people you are never going to see again. I was much more fascinated with Stef. As she talked and laughed through the introductions, I was hypnotized by her smile and her soft voice. It was funny how in a loud and noisy bar, I could pick out her voice so clearly.
Nathan's wife was Japanese and Stef's skin had that beautiful oriental complexion. Her blue eyes were a contrast to her dark hair. Her body had certainly developed since the last time I had seen her. Her dress was tight enough to reveal an ample bosom beneath it and her hips were wide enough to accent her narrow waist. She was not tall but looking at her it seemed that everything seemed in perfect proportion.
I was making small talk with her friends when she leaned toward me ear. I didn't recognize the perfume but it smelled lovely on her.
"I told my friends that I wanted to spend time with you, Uncle Kyle. Let's go find a quiet place to talk."
We walked down the street and found a quiet coffee shop where we sat and reminisced. The time flew as we caught up on our lives. I told her about my marriage and how my wife had passed away a few years back and she told me about college and her search for a job afterward.
"So did you ever find anyone special, Stef? I can't believe a pretty girl like you is alone."
He voice softened as she spoke. "Well, yes, Uncle Kyle I did. He was smart and charming and fun to be with. I thought we would end up together forever." I could hear her voice break and could see her eyes start to glisten.
I reached across the table and placed my hand on hers. I wanted to ask but knew that she would tell me if she wanted. I looked into her face, the question in my eyes. I saw the first tear run down her cheek. She spoke in halting sentences, punctuated with deep breaths as she fought back her emotions.
"He got shipped to Iraq. He volunteered to go into the military. He was on patrol out by the airport in Baghdad when the IED went off."
I squeezed her hand firmly. I knew where this story was going.
"He called me from the hospital and told me he was okay and that I shouldn't worry but he was just trying to make me feel better. He knew then that he would not be coming home."
Her tears started flowing freely. I moved my chair beside her and put my arm around her shoulder. She rested her head on me and wept. She eventually calmed herself and sat up beside me.
"God, I'm so sorry for blubbering Uncle Kyle. It's just that I have been alone for so long now. It has felt so lonely since he died."
"I know Stef. When my wife died I felt like my world had ended. It does get better; you never forget but you learn to move on."
The next few hours were devoted to drinking to the memories of our loved ones. Needless to say, when it came time for last call, we both were not feeling the pain that we had felt earlier. One last round of scotch on the rocks and it was time for us to go our separate ways.
