When Bobby saw Stacy again after almost ten years, he didn't have much trouble recognizing her. She still had the same girlish face and wore her brown hair in braided ponytails just as before. He felt a thrill shoot through him as he remembered her days in the old neighborhood. She had lived just down the street from him and could always be seen in front of her house playing kick ball or chasing after her little brother. She had loads of energy and he would always be amazed to watch her do her little performances of Olivia Newton-John or Cher on the retaining wall in front of her house. He recalled that some people even considered her to be a little strange because she seemed so desperate for attention.
The incident that came back immediately to him was the time she carried her seven-year old brother around the neighborhood in just his tightie whities. The poor kid was screaming bloody murder and kicking the whole time, but she just kept holding him up and teasing him with baby talk as they went. Everyone on the block witnessed this and Stacy seemed to love that. She just kept walking him back and forth as she chided him.
"Is the little baby happy now?" she said, "Are you ready to go and get your poopy diaper changed?"
After that she carried the little brat back into the house and he remembered standing there imagining her laying him out like a baby on the floor and changing him. He recalled being filled with a certain excitement he wasn't sure he knew how to deal with at the time. He soon realized that he wished it was he himself she was giving this treatment to. He understood this was a strange wish to have and he wondered if that made him abnormal in some way. But perhaps Stacy was abnormal, too? Perhaps she had the same feelings about it? But he was never able to approach her with that subject back then because just the thought of it made his face flush with hot blood and embarrassment.
And now here she was, a full-fledged woman standing just ten feet away! He wondered if she'd remember him. He approached her cautiously, waited for her to make eye contact, and then extended his hand.
"Hi, you're Stacy Haberstein, aren't you!" he said.
Her eyes searched his face quickly and then widened with recognition.
"Oh my god! Bobby Flannigan!" she exclaimed, "What are you doing here!"
"Waiting here for the latest nerdy product just like the rest of us tech slaves!" he replied.
"Wow! I never see anybody from the neighborhood anymore!" she chimed.
"Me neither!"
"So how are you? Married with kids?" she inquired.
"Nah, never got around to it. You?"
She proudly held up her left hand which was adorned with a gold band.
"One year this October!" she announced.
"Wow! Congratulations!"
"Thanks."
Bobby felt a wave of disappointment move over him and he was suddenly overcome with a sense of awkwardness.
"We sure did have some fun back then!" Stacy continued after a short silence.
"Yeah, I remember you singing Half Breed for us with that long, black wig on!"
"Oh god! Do you know my family still makes me perform that song every Thanksgiving! It's crazy!"
Bobby laughed and was glad to hear this. It was a sign she hadn't changed all that much.
"And I remember you used to always have to chase your little brother around!" he continued.
"Oh, I used to beat his backside day and night...!" she replied, grinning.
Bobby imagined this quite clearly as a surge of adrenaline coursed through him. It lingered in his stomach and tickled for a while.
"...but now little Stevie is six foot two so I can't do that anymore!" she said with mock disappointment.
After this the conversation devolved into small talk and they exchanged phone numbers before parting ways. For days afterward Bobby tried to think of an excuse to call her that wouldn't sound like a move. But in the end he decided to let it go and entertain himself with the new fantasies she had inspired in him. That is, until the day some six months later when he got a call from her.
"Hey Bobby, we're having a party this Saturday and we were wondering if you'd like to come by?"
"Sure!" he replied in happy surprise.
Her address turned out to be in New Jersey, but he didn't mind the commute from the city. When he arrived he saw that she lived in a cute little split level home in a nice little suburb of North Bergen. Her husband however turned out to be a "not so little" working class type who had hands like sandpaper sausages.
"Hey pal! Come on in!" the husband greeted as he applied his grip firmly.
"Hey Bobby!" Stacy gushed when she saw him, "Where's your date?"
He suddenly felt somewhat stupid. Why had he come alone?
"She's got school." Was the only lie he could come up with.
"Aww, and you came anyway!" she exclaimed sympathetically, "That's sweet!"
She put her arm around him and walked him into the kitchen. Then she took a beer out of the fridge and handed it to him.
"Here's something to start you off!"
He followed her into the backyard next and noticed she had filled out nicely since high school. Her hips were wider and two distinct dimples showed between her shorts and her tank top. Her mother and father and Stevie were out there eating barbecue and some other couples he didn't know.
"Mom, you remember Bobby Flannigan, don't you?" Stacy queried.
"Oh yeah! Hi Bobby! How's your mom?" Mrs. Haberstein asked.
"She's fine."
"Oh good! Tell her I said 'Hi'!"
Stacy kindly steered him over to the other guests after this and made the introductions. The people seemed like mostly artsy city types. One woman had a nose piercing and another guy had purple hair. Yes, this made sense, he thought. Stacy had always wanted to be an entertainer. These would be her people.
"So what do you do now, Stacy?" he asked to ease his curiosity.
"I work for an insurance company, but I do theater on the weekends, in the village."
"Oh wow! Like what?"
"Performance art, mostly improv stuff."
"That's so cool!"
He mentioned then that he was a writer, though what he wrote was mostly ad copy. He thought that would give him an excuse to go see her show in the village. She talked intensely after that about her performance troupe and their plays which sounded pretty pretentious to him. Their shows were full of strange metaphors and weird costumes, like a guy dressed as a condom to symbolize male chauvinism. But then it struck him that this too made perfect sense. That was what she had done as a kid out on the stage in front of her house all those years ago! It was all performance art! That's when he got an idea.
"Do you remember the time you paraded your brother around the neighborhood in his underwear?" he asked, as if the thought had just popped into his mind.
Her face was blank for a moment. Then it slowly returned to her.
"Oh right! Wow! You remember that?!" she said incredulously.
"Sure. How many times do you see a sight like that!" he replied laughing.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." She said with a sly look.
"Do you remember how everyone in the neighborhood went crazy?!"
"Of course, they all knew about my wild shenanigans!"
"It's funny the things we never forget. But I thought that was so creative!" He continued.
"Really? How?"
"Well. I know you were only trying to teach him a lesson, but it seemed like you were putting on a show for us all."
"Oh really? Like a domination show...?" she wondered.
He saw her face go into happy deep thought.
"...you mean, do that to someone on stage?"
"Yes! It can be a sort of lampoon of all that psychology stuff!"
She continued to mull it around in her head for a moment.
"I like it!" she suddenly blurted, "It can be about the woman taking back the power!"
"Sure!" Bobby replied, as he saw he had guided her right to the idea behind all his fantasies.
They made a plan then and there to meet the following weekend at the theater to hash out this new performance idea. As Bobby left the party Stacy kissed him on the cheek.
"See you in a week, Dr. Freud!" she called out as he walked toward the street.
