** I wasn't sure if this story belonged in the loving wife's category or romance category. It is somewhere in the middle. I hope you enjoy. Thanks again to my favorite editor, the one and only BlackRandl **
Second Chances
A woman reminisces about a long lost love
I remember...
I was staring at the beautiful surroundings. The synagogue looked majestic with the exquisite chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the lovely wall ornaments and the beautiful stained glass windows. That was my first time in a synagogue, but it was not the first time I had attended a wedding of Mark's. I was also in attendance at his first wedding, and I was probably to blame for his marriage to Charlotte. As I stared at him under the canopy, I wondered why they didn't marry in a synagogue all those years before. It had been close to forty years when Mark and Charlotte married; about a year after Paul and I tied the knot. Mark had stared at his bride to be, and he had a smile that stretched from ear to ear. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he this happy when he married Charlotte?
*****
I met Charlotte in my second year of college. We were assigned to be roommates. We had very little in common, but somehow our differences completed us as best friends. Charlotte was from the west coast; I was from the Midwest, Indiana, actually, and we found ourselves in Notre Dame as roommates. I was from a very Catholic family. Charlotte was basically an atheist. Her dad may have been a Muslim, or her paternal grandfather was. He converted to Islam after Charlotte's dad was born and tried to raise his son that way, but Charlotte's dad gave it up when he met her mom, who had movie star looks. Her mom's family religion was sun, shopping and money. Her dad had his own business, and Charlotte was an only child. Me, I was in the middle, two older brothers and an older sister; two younger sisters and a younger brother. Yes, I was one of seven, or actually fourth of seven. We were all practicing Catholics, but only my sister Susie, who was right after me, eventually gave it up and married an Evangelical. My parents finally did come to terms with that.
Charlotte was admitted to ND on a sports scholarship. She was a basketball star. That was another difference between us. Charlotte was 5'9" tall, blond and I was 5 inches shorter and a brunette. Charlotte also had a great figure. I was very petite and slim. So that is how Charlotte ended up in ND.
Mark, who as I mentioned is Jewish, was from New York, and also came to ND on a sports scholarship. He was a baseball player. ND was not known as a baseball powerhouse; they were, however, one of the top teams in the nation in women's basketball. By the time I met Mark, he was a senior. He was pre-law while I was majoring in history and political science. I think Charlotte was majoring in guys. She always hung out with guys on the football and basketball teams. Charlotte actually majored in economics, which was kind of funny, because she really wasn't into it, but she was interested in business and hoped that could help her in life. She eventually gave up her dream to play in the WNBA because she wasn't good enough and didn't put in the work, although she did have a great shot and had a lot of natural talent in basketball.
Mark always wanted to be a lawyer, and he was well acquainted with the career of the new supreme court justice, Amy Barret, who was a professor at ND law years after Mark graduated. Mark's politics, strangely enough, were very conservative, like mine. Most New Yorkers are pretty liberal. Of course, unlike Charlotte's, who was as progressive as can be.
Mark and I met in a class on the constitution. It was a bit of history and a lot on the philosophy of the founding fathers. I was a sophomore, and at the time Mark had already aced his LSATs and was waiting to decide which Law School to attend. I noticed him early on. He sat towards the back of class, he was about average height, light brown hair and the greenest eyes I have ever seen on a guy or gal. He wasn't too muscular, but he also wasn't too skinny, although he was slim. I guess playing shortstop forced him to maintain some shape. Mark was also the smartest one in class. I'm not sure if it was his looks or his brains, but early on that semester I kind of forced myself on him as a study partner.
I wasn't shy; coming from a large family you had to learn to be assertive, so I went over to him.
"Hi, I'm Abby, do you have a study partner?"
"Nope. Don't need one and I'm not looking for one." Boy, was he full of himself, but if there is one thing that I was, it was persistent.
"Well, I do, and you have got to be the smartest guy in class, so how about helping out a poor damsel in distress."
"Well, now that's something that we agree on: I am definitely the smartest guy in class, probably the smartest student and I also may be the best looking."
Well, I know how to play into his ego, so I went for it. "Yes, you may be the best looking, but just because I may need a study partner, it doesn't mean that I'm not smarter than you."
The challenge was made.
"Okay, Abby, you think you can take me on, fine, Friday night, 8:00 PM in the library."
"And what if I have a date?"
"You want me, you got me, show up or you lose your chance."
*****
That Friday I met a completely different person. Gone was the fake façade, now it was just a guy, a really hot guy and little old me. We really hit it off. Mark was down to earth, honest and even a bit vulnerable. He realized in time that I was no dummy, and probably his equal. We really got into the thought process of the founding fathers and why they did what they did. We agreed to keep it a standing date, but to be clear, this was not even platonic, it was really to study.
After our third meeting, Mark was walking me back to my sorority house and I finally asked him, "What was all that crap you gave me when I first asked you to study with me?"
"Wow, took you until now to ask. It's just this thing that I do. I try to intimidate people. I'm not the biggest guy at 5'10", so I use my mouth and a fake attitude. I really love learning and gaining knowledge. I need to make sure my partner is just as serious as I am, so I try to put them on the defensive. You knew how to play me and that is why I like you, ah I mean I like studying with you."
I realized Mark slipped a bit. I really tried to keep a straight face, my poker face. I didn't think I was ready for a more than study relationship yet, although, he was gorgeous. When he dropped me off, I thought that he thought about kissing me good night. That would have been a mistake. I was no prude but he'd have to earn that with a real date. Well, I may have been a prude. I was definitely a virgin, had only kissed one guy in high school and that wasn't so great. It wasn't until our fourth study session that he asked me.
"Abby, do you think we can meet for a coffee or something, just to hang and not study?"
"Do you think that is a good idea? It could ruin a good thing that we have going here."
"I think you're worth a chance. Yes, it may be a mistake, but then again, it may work out nicely. At least I know that I will be with someone who is as bright if not smarter than me."
I guess he knew how to play my ego, too.
"Okay, Mark, when and where?"
And so our relationship began. Mark was ever the gentleman. He dressed nicely, took me out to nice restaurants and shows. He even took me to a ballet, which I loved, and I think he may have dozed a bit.
We started to fool around slowly. As I mentioned, I was a virgin, and I had every intention of remaining a virgin until my wedding. Mark was not a virgin, and he had every intention of making sure I would not be a virgin at my wedding. It took him weeks to feel my breasts. That was the first time I was ever felt up. It definitely had me very wet.
After about two months of Mark's attempts to get to third base, I had to have that talk with him.
"Mark, this isn't working. I am too religious for you. I think this was a mistake. I want to be your friend and study partner, not your girlfriend. Can you separate your feelings for me?"
"No, Abby, I can't. I am graduating in a few months. I am staying in South Bend for Law School. We can live together, get married, whatever you like."
"My mother is an Irish Catholic fanatic, Mark. I can't live with you. I can't marry you, unless you convert, and being Jewish, I'm still not sure if she'd accept you. I'm sorry I let this get this far. I guess I got a bit carried away with you. Let's just stay friends."
"Irish, I thought you were Italian?"
"My dad is Italian; he is also Catholic, but not as religious as mom. What do you think? Can we remain friends?"
"I need to think about it. I'm not sure. I'm definitely not converting, not while my parents are alive. They are older and holocaust survivors. That would kill them. We are not religious at all but I do go to Temple one day a year on Yom Kippur.
"Abby, you are killing me. I have never been dumped. It was always me that ended relationships."
I noticed a tear in his eye. I felt bad, but knew it had to be this way. Charlotte and all her differences was one thing. My mom humored me with that relationship, but if she found out about Mark, I would replace Susie as the least favorite child.
*****
My relationship with Mark ended, both as a couple and as a study partner. We both had the best grades in class. He was always cordial to me and nice, but we never hung out again. I kind of missed that. About a month or so after my relationship with Mark ended, I met Paul. Of course I met Paul in the right place: church. Yes, I did go Sunday mornings. There was a church on campus (of course ND is a Catholic school). It was always full attendance. Anyway, this one Sunday, I was talking with one of my girlfriends and I was not paying attention and I walked right into Paul. I practically knocked him over. Paul was maybe an inch or two shorter than Mark, so he wasn't very tall at all. As I helped steady him, and apologized profusely, he said the only way that he would grant me penance was to meet him for dinner one night. And so I did.
Paul was a Junior, focusing on a career in finance. He was from South Carolina and surprisingly Catholic. He was ever the Southern Gentlemen. He wasn't as exciting as Mark, but I had already ruled Mark out as an RU: religiously undesirable. While Mark treated me as an equal, Paul put me on a pedestal. He treated me like a fragile piece of glass. Sometimes it seemed phony, but it was nice to feel like a queen. We became an item toward the end of the year. Paul went back to SC over the summer, but we kept in touch. My parents, especially my mom, wanted to meet the young man who was getting most of my attention, so in September when Paul returned, I had him come to my folks' for dinner. Paul had rented a car for the day and we drove the two-and-half-hour drive. We had an early dinner, like 4:00 o'clock. By 8:00, we were on our way back. My mom managed to get Paul alone with my dad for a bit to let me know that she approved. He was a keeper and she hoped I was a 'good' girl. Truth is, it was Paul who kept me a virgin. We started talking about the M word by Christmas, and I flew out to SC to meet his family over Easter. About a month later, a bit before Paul graduated, we were engaged.
We decided to wait the year before I graduated. Paul went to work in Indianapolis as an analyst, but decided to study for his CPA and his plan was to take all parts and pass them by June, which was when we were to be married.
Charlotte never was crazy about Paul; she felt that I needed someone more exciting. Paul never understood my relationship with Charlotte. We were like salt and pepper. I guess I was salt. Charlotte was always kind enough to vacate our room when Paul came to town, which was usually every Saturday or Sunday. Once he even stayed overnight at a motel for the weekend.
Being engaged, I allowed myself to be more sexually experimental with Paul. I was actually the aggressor, but I had convinced him that I wanted to be a virgin for our wedding. Paul was, as well, but he had more self-control than I did. We did fool around a lot and I managed to convince him that we could get naked and fool around. I was very curious to see what it looked like in person. Yes, I had seen some movies and pictures, but nothing like the real thing. I managed to give Paul a hand job. He wouldn't let me blow him. He also wouldn't come and made me stop. I did convince him that he could orally pleasure me, which he reluctantly did. That's how I knew that I would be a virgin until my big night.
I hadn't seen Mark in about a year. I had seen him after I stated seeing Paul. We bumped into each other one Saturday night. Mark was on a date. I introduced him to Paul and they seemed to hit it off, but I had very little to share with his date. Sometime around Christmas after I was engaged, I bumped into Mark on campus. As I mentioned, it had been about a year since I had seen him and he asked me about Paul. I showed him my finger and he smiled from ear to ear and gave me a great big hug.
"Wow Abby, that's great. I hope I get an invitation."
