My thanks to Randi for her editorial assistance. And for the invitation to participate. Please look out for the other stories in this event.
The song, "He's in Town" holds bittersweet memories for me, for obvious reasons. And it forms the basis for this story. He's in Town (c) Gerry Goffin and Carole King
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I wanted to know what love is, I really did. Due to my parents not being a very loving couple (they eventually realized that after being together for almost 25 years that they didn't even like each other very much, let alone love each other, so they split up), I didn't know too much about romantic or family love for that matter..
As for romantic love, there was an elderly neighborhood couple who, at about the same time my folks were splitting up, were celebrating their Diamond (60th) wedding anniversary, and they seemed just as loving toward each other as they ever had, so I knew romantic love existed, but after the shitshow my parents made of their marriage, I wasn't sure that I knew what love was, even though I wanted to know.
I dated sporadically during high school and college, but it wasn't until I was in my mid-20s and setting out on my own to make my own mark on the world that I eventually found out what love was. After my experience, I sometimes wish that I hadn't.
With my newly minted Masters in Business Management, I had been able to find a good job with a great employer about 300 miles from my hometown. Leaving hadn't been much of a wrench, because my mother had gone back north to her home in Montreal, she was Canadian, and my father had gone back to where he hailed from, southern Texas so, as an only child, I had no ties to my hometown. When a career opportunity arose, I accepted it with pleasure.
I'd been working there for about a year when I was introduced to the woman I would marry. It was a marriage that I would come to bitterly regret with all my being. That statement is not over the top. Not at all. It will be easy to explain why.
"Terry, I'd like you to meet Angela Roberts," my supervisor said one day. "She's joining the company, and I would be pleased if you would mentor her for me as part of your training duties."
I nodded, stood up (I still had my manners, well, some of them), shook hands with her and said, "It's nice to meet you, Angela. Let's talk in the breakroom so we can establish what training you need and what training resources might be required."
The meeting went well and to my surprise, I had felt an electric jolt when I shook her hand. I gathered from her reaction that she felt the same way.
As a training officer within the HR department, it was my job to be very well up on all company policies, and I knew that, thank goodness, the company didn't have a no-fraternization policy so people were free to date their colleagues, though obviously, there were exceptions. Affairs involving married people were strongly discouraged, but as we were both single that wasn't a problem.
Angela was an utter babe: full breasts, a shapely rear and about 5 foot 6, with short blonde hair and a beautiful face. And a winning personality, too.
I must have been to her liking, also, because after I'd finished my professional engagement with her (the mentoring turned out to be just setting her up with a couple of in-house training programs) I asked her out, and to my then joy, she accepted.
Yeah, I said then joy, because subsequent events really made me wonder why the hell she had bothered to accept my request for a date.
We did the usual things: walks on the nature trails surrounding the small city we lived in, meals out, trips to the movies, making out and then eventually, making love.
I must admit that there were times when I felt she was zoning out on me, but I just thought that was maybe a personality trait and quite normal. Well, my experiences with dating up until then had been fairly limited, like I said.
Eventually, Angela invited me to meet with her family. We had a meal at their house and I met her parents and her younger sister who still lived at home. Angela's grandmother was also there, as she lived in a small house a couple of doors down on the same street and would often dine with the family.
The conversation was going pretty well until grandmother made a remark to her daughter, Angela's mother that caused a frisson of something very much like fear amongst the family. She muttered something derogatory about "Derrick," which made Angela's mother frown. She shook her head and said, "Not now, Ma! Not when... when we have a guest!"
No more was said. I wished afterward I'd been nosy enough to ask who Derrick was, but you live and learn.
Angela and I continued dating, did some things with her family and I seemed to be very popular with them all. But especially with Angela's little sister, Mary.
Mary and Angela would have heated bickering sessions together, but I was never able to work out what the problem between them was, though I did broach the subject with Angela. She dismissed it as "sister shit," so I ignored it. I did notice Mary giving me looks that might have been concern, but I ignored them, putting it down to a bit of jealousy. Oh, vanity, your name is Terry.
I proposed to Angela; I went down on one knee, got her father's permission, all the old school stuff, but again Ma (as grandmother was known to all) muttered something about Derrick. It wasn't complimentary.
Later that evening as we prepared for bed (Angela had moved in with me in the two-bedroom house I was in the process of buying) I asked Angela who Derrick was, and she refused to answer, looking scared, I thought.
The next morning, I took some personal time from work and decided to visit with Ma to find out who Derrick was.
Over coffee, she explained all that she knew about Derrick. Apparently, when Angela was in high school, the local heartthrob Derrick Poulson, had decided to start dating her. Pretty quickly he had tired of her and dumped her, moving on to other girls.
He seemed to have some kind of weird hold on Angela, though. Every time she got into a new relationship, Derrick would turn up and fuck things up, causing her to drop her current boyfriend, but Derrick would then vanish from her life. Again.
"It's damned lucky that Derrick joined the army and is stationed overseas," said Ma, a sour expression on her face. "Because I know damn well that if Derrick came back to town, he'd do his best to wreck your marriage to Angela. Derrick is bad news. If he comes back to town, I don't doubt that bad things would happen."
I thanked her for her information, which troubled me greatly. My mind went back to a song by The Tokens that my parents had listened to. It was called "He's in Town." The lyrics were maudlin, but concerning to me. I used my smartphone to download them.
He's in town
He's back in town
Girl I knew just what was wrong
When you weren't home
Each time I phoned all week long
And now
I see it in your eyes
The look that you have
when you're thinking of him
Can't be disguised
I was afraid he'd come back some day
And I'd be the one to lose
I knew when you saw him
you wouldn't ignore him
And he'd be the one you'd choose
So you don't have to tell me
He's in town
He's back in town
No you don't have to tell me
He's in town
He's back in town
He's in town
Shit! I'd have to confront Angela. But what to do? How to do it?
That evening, I asked her about Derrick.
She basically told me what Ma had told me, but she expanded on it and told me that her parents had been so concerned about her that they had gotten psychological counseling for her, and that she was now fully recovered from her obsession with Derrick.