Lyn looked away from the sick green background of the computer monitor. Still, she could sense the face in the screen looking back at her; mocking her. It scorned her for turning 45, for staying married to a man she didnât love, and for having a job she couldnât stand.
The woman swiveled in her chair and was confronted by windows that reflected her short legs, lifeless hair and insignificant body. Had a more nondescript female ever been born?
She stood and detected a movement in the window. A man was walking past; a tall, younger man with a sure stride. She watched his reflection. It looked like Paul. But, of course, it couldnât be Paul. Paul walked out of her life twenty years ago.
Or had he? Every young man with dark hair was Paul--the same man Lyn had met in the remote motel room when she was in her mid twenties in order to consummate their physical attraction towards each other. The same man who couldnât complete the act.
He had blamed it on guilt. She suspected it was her undistinguished techniques. Both were half right. There were tears and embarrassment and anguish. No words were ever spoken.
Lynâs life would be incomplete if she didnât erase that awful fifteen minutes from two decades ago. But, of course, it would never be erased from her memory. She needed to erase its very existence by completing the act.
An old Carpenters song entered her mind:
The hardest thing I've ever done is keep believing
There's someone in this crazy world for me.
Yeah, right. A married, middle-aged woman who looks more like Jim Carey than Mariah Carey. Lyn no more expected to be loved again than she expected to win the lottery.
She smoothed out her skirt and headed for the break room. She needed coffee.
The reality was this: Lyn was not an unappealing woman. Her short brunette hair was neatly cut and curled at the base of her neck. She had penetrating dark eyes and lips that begged to be kissed. Her figure was more than respectable, including shapely legs that lacked only the exaggerated length she was used to seeing on magazine covers.
In fact, when walking the local nature trail in the summer with shorts and a tank top on she was almost sexy. Almost.
Lynâs biggest problem was Lyn. Her faith in relationshipsâŚand herselfâŚwalked out the door with Paul. She saw no need to make herself appealing.
The way that people come and go through temporary lives
My chance could come and I might never know.
On the opposite side of the office, Terry watched her enter the break room. He watched her ass sway under the skirt before Lyn disappeared around the corner.
Terry was a thirty-year-old accountant who would probably never rise above the supervisory levelâŚand would be satisfied with that. Terry struggled through school. He struggled on dates. He would struggle through a career and retire.
âGo. Before she comes back out.â
The voice behind him was firm and sure. He turned to look at Sue, giving her the usual contemptuous sneer he gave her when he felt she was being a little too intrusive.
But she was right. He grabbed his coffee cup and headed quickly for the break room. He would deal with the cute, young meddler when he got back.
Lyn was seated at the undersized, square table in the middle of the room when Terry entered. They exchanged friendly greetings as Terry walked to the coffee maker. He added sugar to the cup and turned towards Lyn. Her legs were crossed under the table, exposing a good portion of her stocking covered thighs.
âMind if I sit down?â the man asked.
âOf course not. Howâs your day been, Terry?â
He lied. âPretty good. How about you?â
The lying continued. âGood. We havenât been real busy.â At least the latter statement was true.
âUs either,â Terry admitted. They paused to drink.
Lyn had always liked Terry and enjoyed watching him around Sue, the young addition to the accounting department. Sue was infinitely more outgoing than Terry and seemed to enjoy goading him into dating her girlfriends or other single women in the office. If Lyn was youngerâŚand singleâŚand prettier; well, she wasnât any of those. But he WAS cute, she admitted.
âYou look very nice today. Going somewhere after work?â Terry asked.
Lyn had to gather herself after the unaccustomed compliment.
âNo. Not at all. And thank you.â She smiled at him sheepishly, nervously rearranging her legs under the table.
She felt the urge to change the topic. âSo, howâs Sue been doing?â
âOh, great,â Terry said cheerfully. âSheâs gonna be great to have around.â He glanced at the door to make sure she hadnât followed him. âSheâs a lot of fun, but knows her stuff, too.â
âStill trying to set you up with dates?â Lyn asked.
âOf course.â
Lyn tried to put on her most innocent look. âAny luck?â
Terry laughed. âHardly.â
Lyn was about to continue her questioning, but Terry added, âShe has a lot of twenty-year-old friends.â
âSo?â Lynâs eyes widened.
âSo, Iâm beyond that. I wantâŚ, well, not want exactlyâŚI like women older than that,â he finally managed to say.
âHow old?â Lyn was getting into this now, enjoying the young manâs apparent discomfort.
Terry eyed her carefully. âI think a woman ten or fifteen years older than me would be interesting.â
âInteresting?â
âYeah,â he said. âCould teach me something.â
Lyn drank some more coffee and thought for a second. Where could she take this? Did she want to?
âMaybe an older woman would know better than to try to teach a young guy like you anything,â Lyn finally said.
âI hope not. Anyone who thinks Iâve done it all is in for a shock.â
Lyn couldnât help but laugh at that one. She could see the insecurity on his face and decided to help him out.
âAh, câmon Terry. Youâre a good-looking young man. Most older women would be very intimidated by you.â
Terry had walked, or been pushed, into the room as the âaggressorâ and felt strangely defensively now.