I drove as my dad slept in the back seat. My mom asked about classes and how things went. I was quiet for a while before my mom asked if I was ok.
"I met someone. Actually I met her in the fall through a friend, but at the time she had a boyfriend. Our paths crossed a few times over the school year. Then Tuesday I was at the campus lake with a bunch of guys from the dorm, and she was there. We chatted. She was having her last final that evening and I asked her if she wanted to go downtown for a couple of beers. Anyway short story. We hit it off. We're planning on writing over the summer. I'll be seeing her when I come down in a few weeks to get where I'm going to live next year set up. She said I could stay overnight at her parent's house instead of a hotel. Be cheaper too. She even mentioned of driving up to see me toward the end of the summer. We'll just see how it goes."
"Do you have a picture of her?"
"No. Not yet. She's cute," I said with a broad smile, as I filled her in on Kathy's major and the fact that she hadn't lived in the dorm the first couple of years. I did leave out the whole boyfriend drama.
"So you met her through a friend. Hers or yours?"
"Both," I then went through an abbreviated story on Valerie, and our friendship.
"Sounds like you've had an interesting year."
"Yeah. It was like no other year. Don't know why. I mean I really hadn't gone out with anyone before this year. It kind of all came together."
"Well, I can't wait to meet her, if she does decide to come up. Sounds like an incredible girl."
"She is," my mom could hear the smile in my voice. She could tell that I was incredibly happy.
* * * * *
My first letter to Kathy was in the mailbox Monday morning. Back then, if you wanted stamps, all you had to do was leave the money in the mailbox and mailman would leave you a book of stamps. I bought two.
Thoughts of Kathy flowed through my mind every night in the quiet of the night, as I lay in my bed... alone. Alone; but, with lasting memories of our few day, and nights, together. How she felt in my arms. How my fingertips would gently glided over her little vertebra... her skin like silk... warm and soft. The softness of her golden blonde hair. Those blue gray eyes. The taste, and texture of her lips... of her nipples. And, 'Yes'
her
taste. Her intoxicating fragrance. But, mostly I missed the closeness that we had developed in the short time we had together. The feeling of being next to someone, not saying a word; but, 'feeling' the other person.
I started at the dairy the following Monday. My dad had let them know when I was getting home, and everything was set up. This being my third, and last year, there I got better hours and better duties.
The first year my hours were horrible. The dairy would end production around 9:00 at night and then the next shift would come in, clean and sanitized all of the bottling machines and stuff. I would get home about the time the sun was coming up. Still, it paid really well. This year I had normal 8 to 4:30 hours. Off on Thursday and worked Saturday. Saturday was the busiest as they processed all the milk that they had for the weekend distribution. The dairy was closed on Sunday. The cows didn't know that, so Monday brought in double amounts of raw milk.
I received my first letter from Kathy on Wednesday. She probably got mine that day too. We each kept it light. Telling each other about being back home. I told her about my conversation with my mom about the 'someone' I met. She told me about how her mom asked why she wanted to stay until Saturday, and then she explained about us. Her mom was happy for her. Kathy was still a bit apprehensive about her ex-boyfriend becoming a problem. Her dad reassured her not to worry. Being a small town things like that get taken care of... messages sent.
The last sentence of her letter went like this, "I'm glad you were there when I left, even though I asked you not too. Still, I'm glad. I knew were there. I could
feel
it. And then when you stood... Thank you. You weren't sleeping when I left... were you?"
My next letter, "No".
Her next letter, "I meant what I said".
My next letter, "I know. I can't wait to tell
you
in person".
Her next letter, "I can't wait to hear that."
My next letter, "Thank you for the gift."
Her next letter, "Something to remember me by in the weeks to come," I could see the smile on her face as she wrote that sentence, "You watched me dress. Didn't you?"
My next letter, "It just added to all the visions of your loveliness in my brain. And,
Yes
I watched you dress."
Her next letter, "I knew it. I could feel your eyes on me. Thank you for not saying or doing anything. It was hard to leave. When I woke I could hear you breathing. I turned to look at you. Were you looking back at me?"
My next letter, "Yes."
Her next letter, "I
knew
it."
* * * * *
And so the summer went on. My scheduled trip down south was going to be five weeks into the summer. We were both anxious in anticipation. About three week into the summer, I noticed Kathy's letters getting less. The ones that did come sounded like she was down and depressed. Something was bothering her. The 'Ex?', I wondered.
On one of my days off, I was in town doing some miscellaneous errands when a moment of spontaneity hit me. Across the street was a flower shop. 'Why not give her a surprise?' I arranged to have a dozen and a half yellow roses delivered to her house early that coming Saturday afternoon. I knew her schedule and figured they would get there before she did. It wasn't cheap. But I had a good paying job, and figured 'why not?' I left with a satisfying smile.
* * * * *
Kathy's mom was standing in the kitchen window as the delivery van drove up. She watched the guy get out and walk to the door with a vase of yellow roses. With a puzzled look, she answered the door.
"A delivery for Miss Kathy."
"I'll take em. Thanks."
Setting them on the kitchen table, she saw the card. 'Should I?' she thought... 'I'm her mom... Yes, I should.'
Opening the card she read what I had told the florist I wanted the card to say:
"Thinking of, and Missing you... always!
"Bill"
"Oh my," was all she could say as she replaced the card, like it had never been opened. Taking the vase into Kathy's room, she put it on her desk, where she would see it immediately when she opened her door.
Returning to the kitchen, a million thoughts running through her head. She knew my name, obviously. She knew how much Kathy and I had been writing back and forth. She knew how we had met and gotten together at the end of the year.... I am positive of not all the details. That I was the reason she stayed on campus until Saturday. Still, the flowers intrigued her.
Kathy came through the door and hour, or so later, in a foul mood.
Her part-time job was at a local grocery store, as a check out. Apparently some customer complained that she hit the wrong key and over-charged her for an item and complained to the manager. Instead of looking at the receipt, he immediately apologized and told the customer it would be refunded. The customer was wrong. Kathy had approached the manager that she was right. The manager just blew her off, and said not to worry about it. Reminded her that, 'The customer is always right'. Still she felt it made her look like a fool.
