Standing at the mirror, Sandy brushed back the stray hair from her face. Then she stepped closer and frowned at the reflection looking back at her. When did the wrinkles appear? Had they always been so deep? Her friends told her she could pass for 40, but she knew they were just being nice. The mirror didn't lie, and it was telling her she looked every one of her fifty-one years.
Turning her back, she walked into the living room from the hall. It was the same room it had been for all the twenty-seven years she had lived here, except the walls had recently been painted and the carpet was gone now, revealing the peg and plank wood floors beneath. Pictures of Jack no longer were part of the decoration, either, except for that one on the bookshelf of the whole family.
How young they had been then! This particular picture had been taken outside this house the first summer after moving in. Kylie had only been two at the time and she was six months pregnant with Kara. The house had seemed so big then with it's four bedrooms, two bathrooms, formal dining room, and an attic large enough to walk around in. Then, when the girls got older and Jack took on more responsibility at work, it began to feel small. When Kara turned eleven, Jack had had a third bathroom built because he said otherwise he'd have to run to the gas station whenever he needed to use one. Now, with the girls grown and on their own, and Jack gone these last five years, the house seemed huge again.
They'd had twenty-six years together, married. Another year before then of dating. They had watched other marriages fall apart, friends divorce and leave, always grateful that it wasn't them. She had never thought of him as her best friend, but he had always been the man she wanted to grow old with. Then tragedy struck in the form of a drunk driver on a snowy night and suddenly that dream was lost.
Her friends commented on how strong she was, but she was sure that when she wasn't around, they called her cold. Maybe heartless. They hadn't seen her cry, she hadn't run to any of them for a shoulder to lean on. She went on a date less than a year after the accident, and related to them how much fun she had had, and although they acted happy for her, she could see the disdain in their eyes.
In truth, there were several nights she cried herself to sleep, her body sore from shaking so badly. Even now there were still times tears would slip, seemingly for no apparent reason. However, she refused to be one of those women who dwelt on the past, hanging on to what was and refusing to see what might be. Jack had been her rock, her security, her first love, but he was gone now. That didn't mean her life was over, only that that book was finished.
Picking up her purse from the table near the front door, she left the house and went out to her car. She was meeting Mark in a half hour at the little diner just off the interstate.
None of her friends or the girls knew about Mark. She knew every one of them would have discouraged her from meeting him, and perhaps their reasons would hold merit, but she knew if she didn't, it would be a regret she'd harbor forever.
When Kylie first suggested she get a computer she had bucked at the idea. She dealt with computers all day at work, why would she want one in her home? Then Kylie and her husband were transferred out of town and suddenly it made sense to have one, just so they could easily keep in touch. Kara moved out of state a while after that and Sandy was glad to have the machine in her home. They e-mailed each other nearly every day, and talked on a messenger service daily; it was almost like having them with her.
Oddly enough, she first met Mark while she was playing cards online with Kylie one night a month ago. He caught her up in a conversation after the game ended, they chatted on messenger for a few nights, then he gave her his phone number and she called him.
Although she had e-mailed him a couple pictures of herself, he hadn't reciprocated. His excuse was that he looked horrible in pictures, but he had given her a written and verbal description of himself. She had told him how old she was, that she was a widow and had two grown daughters; he always managed to change the subject whenever she asked about his age, only supplying that he was divorced and had a grown son.
He was the one who suggested they meet. Knowing that not everyone on the internet was honest, if what he said was true, he lived two hours away. She suggested they meet half way, he had insisted they meet in her town so she didn't have to drive far by herself.
Somewhat suspicious by nature, but always curious, she thought maybe he was some scam artist thinking she was a rich widow and would try to steal her 'inheritance'. That may be, but did it hurt to at least see what he had to say in person? It wasn't like she had any other plans for the day. And if he turned out to be some scum, she would leave the diner and drive to her brothers house so Mark wouldn't know where she lived if he followed her. She had never told him her real last name, just in case he was some psycho, so she didn't worry he would find her address on the internet and stalk her. And she had an unlisted phone number, so it wouldn't show up on a caller ID and he couldn't do a reverse phone lookup. She felt somewhat safe meeting him in public.
They had agreed to meet at two. It was five minutes before the hour when she parked her car in the lot of the diner. She knew any one of the other cars there could be his, but figured if he was already there then one of the pick ups was most likely his since he told her he was in construction.
The diner was small. The first thing she noticed was that only one person was sitting alone, and that was a young woman. He obviously hadn't arrived yet, so she let the waitress lead her to a booth and she sat facing the door.
Ten minutes later she saw the door open and a young man walked in. He looked to be just a bit older than Kylie, wearing tight blue jeans, bright white athletic shoes, a green polo shirt and denim jacket. He smiled at her and she thought to herself that if she was twenty years younger...Then he crossed the room, walking directly to her.
"Sandy!" he said, bending down to kiss her cheek before sitting on the bench across from her. "You are prettier in person than in the pictures, and those were great!"
"Mark?!"
He was still smiling.
"Oh my God. You're a baby," she blurted out without thinking.
Then he chuckled.
"Hardly. See? I knew you wouldn't have agreed to meet me if I told you my age. Everything else is true. Not that I ever lied about my age, I just conveniently never told you. Have you ordered yet? I am starving!"
A slight groan escaped between her lips.
"How old are you? Twenty?"
"Thirty-five. My son is eighteen... yep, I was just out of diapers when he was born. Could be why the marriage didn't last too long, huh? We gave it ten years. She's a good girl, good mom, we're still friends. My kid is great, he works with me."
Sandy felt like bolting for the door. Of all the things she imagined, this wasn't one of them. Not once did she even consider the fact he might be so much younger! Old, fat, bald, ugly.... Yes. Barely old enough to vote.... No. This man was someone she would expect Kylie or Kara to bring home, not someone she should be sitting with, someone she had fantasized about once or twice alone in her room. Certainly not someone she should have had phone sex with!!
Feeling her face getting hot at that recent memory, she looked down at her hands on the table and hoped he hadn't noticed. At the time, it had been great even if she had felt a bit silly at first, until his words had her so turned on that she couldn't stop herself. Now, however, she felt dirty... like a dirty old lady! This man wasn't even ten years older than her oldest daughter! Sixteen years her junior!
He reached across the table and took hold of her hand in his.
"Does it really bother you that much?" he asked.
