Once upon a dream...
Once upon a dream...
They say to forget the people in your past because there is a reason they didn’t make it to your future. But somehow, a few months ago, I just could not manage to stop thinking about my High School sweetheart and how, and why, he hadn’t made it into my future. It actually wasn’t such an spontaneous thing since at that time I had been writing an article for the magazine about specially that same subject. But it certainly led to a very unexpected course of uncontrollable and, may I add (and not objectively), wonderful happenings.
Ours hadn’t been what you can call an orthodox relationship, at least not the beginning of it. I was a 16 year old girl who ‘till that day hadn’t had any experience on dating whatsoever, I, to my pure shame, hadn’t even french kissed anyone let alone anything else further than that. I’ve had had some admirers but all to boring or to shy or to old for my taste. Until the day I met my future high school sweetheart, whom we’ll call James for the purpose of keeping his real name private. (You might wanna steal him away from me after you read this article!)
James was everything I wanted then because he was everything I was not. He was extremely outgoing, had bad grades but was really streets-smart, he like weird rock music, and topmost of all: he could make me laugh like no other.
I met James at a party, he turned out to be my cousin’s childhood friend, and she introduced us. I didn’t feel attracted to him immediately but he was funny, plus he saved me from that very annoying guy whom I had gotten tired of rejecting for the past few months. We danced, had drinks…you know the drill. In the end I still didn’t feel attracted to him but I loved the fact that he had always a topic of conversation and that nothing was awkward with him, so I decided to give the guy a chance. Next thing I knew, more like next party I saw him, we were making out and then he was asking me to be his girlfriend. I said yes, and we started off from there. Literally. We found ourselves asking each other questions like ‘what’s your middle name?’ once we were already an official couple!
But I guess we turned out fine. The whole thing lasted a year, with its great moments and its not so great ones. And then we both found our separate ways as we went off to college: I had gotten accepted at my dream university in California and he had gone off to New York, where he had family.
After I finished college I got a job as a ghost-writer (a person who writes speeches then passes it off to another person who actually reads them in public and takes credit for them) for a company who raised founds to help starving people in third world countries. And that is when I met…let’s call him Charles.
Charles was a tall man (a special requirement for me to notice a man) with light brown hair. He was slim built and exercised at least one hour daily. But Charles’ best asset were his deep green eyes that, I have to painfully admit, drove me crazy. The rest was pretty much average.
We dated for almost two years and decided to move in together when I got a job AND my own article at a nation-wide magazine. He was a contractor with his own growing company. We got ourselves an apartment near downtown San Francisco, CA.
We had it good for almost another year. We talked about marriage, decided to not hurry into it but maybe by fall next year would be a nice time to do it, when his company had finally set off and I would have more freedom when it came to deadlines and maybe my own section in the magazine. We were both very organized people, very technical you could say. We loved to plan things ahead and always tried to agree on everything.
And then came the unplanned.
It was around October, I had been missing my period (which is totally uncommon for me) and decided to go the the doctor. I already had an idea of what it could be because the condom had failed the other day and long ago I had stopped taking my pills. Hours later I confirmed that, indeed, I was pregnant. Five weeks.
I wasn’t scared at all, we had already talked about starting a family, it would just have to be a little earlier than planned. I told Charles the next day and he reacted on his own, very technical, way. We rearranged plans, we laughed, he said he was happy, he said he was ready.
It was short after I turned five months when I noticed the change in Charles’ attitude. We didn’t joke anymore. He spent less time at home and when he did he kept looking for excuses not to talk about the future and/or the baby. He worried a lot about his company even though it was a very promising one and refused to talk about his problems with me anymore. I got tired of it, but I fooled myself into thinking it may just be the anxiety of becoming a parent, after all I was feeling it too. But it kept going and I decided to make him talk about it because I couldn’t go on like that, specially not with the baby coming: but he promised it would pass, he promised it had nothing to do with us.
A few weeks later he walked trough the front door with sweat covering his face and a certain determination in his eyes that scared me a little. “I won’t do this anymore” he said, and in his voice I could hear nothing but coldness. In a short, broken speech he told me he was not ready to be a parent and that he was leaving, he said he was sorry but it was for the best. In a way it was, although I did not see it at first.
I blamed myself for a while. Then I blamed Charles, and actually found to myself hating him, but short after that resignation and serenity won the best of me. I didn’t understand Charles but I accepted his decision and took one of my own: I would have this baby and I would raise him (yes by that time I knew it was a boy) to be the best man he could be, and I would do it alone until I found a man I was a hundred and one percent sure could definitely be Mr. Right for BOTH of us.
My life gave a complete turn from that moment on. I took my own section at the magazine, which meant more work but even more income, I sold my apartment and moved to a slightly bigger one and I started writing my first novel hoping it might get published someday.
Three months later, Daniel (my son) was born. Two months later I finished my novel and in six more I got it published.
For the purpose of this story, and as much as I would love to tell you every single detail of my life as a new mother, we will have to move on a year and a half approximately. It was middle June, I had decided to take my summer vacations earlier than usual so I could visit my parents in Texas at the same time my brother was visiting, my plan was to have a good time with my family and meet my borther’s new fiancee… And here is where the real story starts:
I found myself sitting by an airport window, killing a few minutes of the two hours time I had to wait before actually boarding my plane. My two year old sat by my side, deep green eyes wide in amazement as he watched yet another plane take off from the ground. I smiled as I looked at him: the cutest little person that I know, dressed in caqui cargo pants and a formal checkered shirt, his hair already a mess of curls.
“Wouldn’t it be cool to fly one of those handsome?” I said as I passed my hand trough his hair like I loved to do, I found it very soothing. He turned to look at me smiling like he knew he should when he wanted something and nodded. “Mommy, I want one” and spoiling mother that I am, I got up and lifted my son up into my arms “So you want a plane huh?” he nodded again, smiling
“Ok, we’ll get you a plane and you can show it to uncle Rick when we get there ok?”
“Un-lel Rick plays” And that was Daniel’s version of saying uncle Rick likes to play with him. But I didn’t quite catch that as I spotted a tall, brown haired man who had been staring openly at us for a few minutes now. You could never be too careful these days so I grabbed my hand-bag and decided to go looking for Daniel’s toy plane and disappear from the creepy guy’s view. “Yeah uncle Rick likes to play” I finally stated.
I walked slowly with Daniel in my arms as we checked the airport stores for a small plane shaped toy my son would not break in five minutes. And miraculously, after walking for about fifteen minutes: a gift shop. Solitary in the middle of video and book stores, I found the small place crowded with people who seemingly, too, had nothing better to do but spend their money foolishly. The plane I found was the perfect size and was, apparently, as unbreakable as it would get. “Mine mommy! I hug it” Daniel reached out for the small plane and I decided it would be easier to let him down on the floor to play with his new toy while I actually payed for it. You could tell I was still new at being a mother of a two and a half year old when, the moment I let him down, my son took of running as fast as his small legs could carry him, plane in hand and all. With my heart beating a thousand miles per hour from fear that I might somehow lose my two year old to any circumstance I took off running after him. It didn’t take me long to catch up with him, even though he had inherited my very wasted ability to run fast, and when I did catch up with the child I honestly did not know which I wanted more: if to spank him hard or hug him for the rest of my life just to be sure I would never lose him. “Do not ever do that again Daniel Aldrige” and just as I said this he put his little arms around me and kissed my cheek, and that was the end of it for me. Apparently he had also inherited my cunning intelligence…and improved it.
Just then I realized I had taken off running after my son without paying for the toy he held so dear in his hands. I must have looked like a crazy woman who had pathetically tried to steal a toy and I was on my way to fix the misunderstanding. I reached the cashier, blush on my cheeks from all the running and, honestly, the embarrassment. “I’m sorry my son took off with your merchandise, I came back to pay for it though” I tried to joke with the not-so-young looking cashier and, surprisingly, she smiled “Its already been taken care of” she must have seen the question in my expression and explained further “that man over there…he payed for the toy, so you’re all set…that’s a cutie mess you got there” she said smiling at my son, who at the moment occupied himself with trying to break the plane open. I smiled back and completely confused and more embarrassed than before tried to look for the man who had so kindly payed for Daniel’s toy…just so I could pay him back of course.
I finally succeeded in making my way out of the crowded store and recognized the man the cashier had so kindly pointed out, so I walked towards him. A strange thought ran trough my head as he turned around and I saw his face for the first time, he looked slightly familiar. Dark brown wavy hair, hazel eyes and that same relaxed way of existing I found so very familiar…it couldn’t be, it just couldn’t.
But it was. “James? James Callaghan?” He smirked. That same smirk I used to dream of in high school, only a little more…mature. “Amanda Aldrige, long time no see” I gave him a smirk of my own.