There was a knock on the door, and then the doorbell rang. My husband had warned me that a plumber slash handyman was coming to fix some plumbing slash unhandy things in our house. I figured that must be him. I'd picked up the place (a little), and I opened the door confidently, knowing that the house was, if nothing more, at least presentable. What I didn't know was how opening that door was going to change my life. My sweet, mundane life. I had a loving husband, kids grown and successful, work I enjoyed, retirement in the foreseeable future. And an above average sex life for people of our age.
I looked at the man standing in front of me, a toolbox in his hand, and confusion and disorientation set in. This was not a plumber slash handyman. This was Al. OK, he did have a tool box, but the face didn't belong to the class of plumber slash handyman in my brain, it belonged to the class of old boyfriend. I gawped. He stood there and smiled. I gawped some more. Finally, he said, "Hi, Cathy." I almost fell over.
Yeah, he was older. Much older. But it was Al, all right. It was Al's voice, too. What was I going to do? Invite him in and talk about toilets? There was an awful lot of catching up to do before I could discuss leaks and dead outlets with this man. I stepped outside, onto the porch.
"Al, what are you doing here?"
"Well, Cathy, your husband asked me to come and fix some things. Apparently, that isn't in his wheelhouse. He called me. I wonder how he got my number."
"Al, what are you doing here?"
"Well, I'm waiting to find out exactly what needs repair."
"Al, what are you doing here?"
"Shit. I'm looking up an old girlfriend who should never have gotten away, and whom I should have looked up a long time ago. But life happens, and before you know it you are in your sixties and wondering where it all went and why you let the important parts slip away."
"Al."
"What?"
"You look great."
"Thanks, so do you."
"Yeah, but, you're too late. You know that, right?"
"Too late for what? To spend some time with somebody I loved once and love still? There's nothing wrong with that."
"Well, there could be. It could cause trouble. I'm not looking for trouble."
"Sometimes trouble is fun, exciting, adventurous. You should keep your mind open."
He was getting to me. I remembered fun and excitement and adventure. The unknown, the spontaneous. But more, being bad. Being furtive. Aroused. Alive. Oh,God, there's gonna be trouble.
"Al, the time for fun and excitement was long ago."
"But, don't you miss it? Are you content to plod through a dull life when it could so easily be spiced up?"
"Messed up, you mean. You were certainly good at messing things up."
"Yeah, I was, wasn't I? Well, I won't mess anything up again. But I'll be here, around, if things get messed up without me."
"Things could get good and messed up just by you being here, Al. What ever possessed you?"
"You possessed me. It couldn't be helped."
"I guess you better come in."
Once inside, Al put his toolbox down, came to me, put his arms around me, and leaned over and kissed me. I let him. I hadn't kissed another man in so long, and it was, as he put it, exciting and adventurous. But it was also trouble and I didn't want trouble. I needed to think.