Spencerville

He turned to his right and saw a woman with shoulder-length auburn hair, wearing a simple pink and white cotton summer dress, walking toward the door. She left.

He stood motionless a moment, and the clerk said to him, "Finished?"

"Yes. No... forget it." He crumpled the form and left quickly.

On the steps, he looked up and down the sidewalk but didn't see her, then spotted her with three other women walking toward the corner. He hesitated, then bounded down the steps and followed.

His mental image of Annie was of how she looked twenty-five years before, the last time he'd seen her on the day he left to report for induction. They'd made love in her apartment in Columbus, and at dawn he'd kissed her and left. Now, in her mid-forties, her figure was still youthful, and she walked with the same girlish jaunt he remembered. She was laughing and joking with her friends, and he couldn't get a good look at her face, except in brief profile as she turned to talk.

Keith found that his heart was beating rapidly, and he stopped and watched the four women. They paused at the corner and waited for the light to change. Keith took a step forward, hesitated, took another step, then stopped again. Go, you idiot. Go.

The light turned, and the four women stepped off the curb into the crosswalk. Keith stood watching them. Then Annie said something to her friends, and the three of them continued without her toward the courthouse park. Annie stood motionless a moment, then turned and walked directly toward him.

She smiled and put out her hand. "Hello, Keith. Long time."

He took her hand. "Hello, Annie."

"I'm flustered," she said.

"You look fine. I'm about to faint."

She smiled. "I doubt it." She took a step back. "Let's look at you. You haven't aged a day."

"I've aged twenty-five years. You look very good."

"Thank you, sir."

They made eye contact and held it. Her eyes were as big and sparkly as ever, he noticed, and she still wore the same pale pink lipstick he remembered. Her skin had a healthy glow, but he was surprised she wasn't tan, because she used to love the sun. There were a few wrinkles, of course, but they gave her otherwise girlish face a little maturity. She had been pretty then; she was beautiful now.

He fished around for some words, then said, "So... I got your letter. In my mailbox."

"Good."

"How was Bowling Green?"

"It was... nice. Sad."

"I was going to... I didn't know if you went alone, or..."

"Yes, I did. My daughter and I." She added, "I looked for you there. Well, not physically, but, you know..."

He nodded, then looked at her. "Do you believe this?"

"No. I'm dreaming."

"I'm... I can't find the words..."

She looked around. "Another minute or so, then I have to go."

"I understand."

"I sent you a letter. It was returned. I thought you were dead."

"No... I mean, I didn't leave a forwarding address at the office..."

"Well, I was upset for days." She cleared her throat and said, "Lost my pen pal."

He was surprised when he noticed that her eyes were moist, and he wanted to offer her a handkerchief, but knew he shouldn't. She took a tissue from her purse and pretended to pat her face but wiped her eyes. "So..." She took a deep breath. "So, how long are you here for?"

"I don't know."

"Why did you come back?"

He considered several evasive replies, then said, "To see you."

He saw she was biting her lower lip, and she was looking at the ground, clearly about to cry.

Keith didn't feel in complete control either, so he didn't speak.

Finally, she looked up at him and said, "You could have seen me anytime you were here."

"No, I couldn't, Annie. But now I can."

"God... I don't know what to say... I mean... do you... are you still?.."

"Yes."

She dabbed at her eyes again, then glanced across at the park where her friends were at the ice cream vendor's truck, looking at her and Keith. She said to him, "I have about thirty seconds before I'm doing something wrong."

He forced a smile. "It's still a small town, isn't it?"

"Real small."

He said, "I want you to know that your letters got me through some rough times."

"Same here. I have to go."

"When can we have that cup of coffee?"

She smiled. "I'll drive out to your place. When I go to see my aunt. But I don't know when I can do that."

"I'm usually home."

"I know that."

He said, "Your husband..."

"I know that, too. I know when to come."

"Okay."

She extended her hand, and he took it. Keith said with a smile, "In Europe, Washington, or New York, we'd kiss good-bye."

"In Spencerville, we just say, 'You have a real nice day now, Mr. Landry. Real good seeing you again.' " She squeezed his hand and turned away.

Keith watched her cross the street and noticed the three women taking it all in.

He stood a moment, not remembering where he was, where his car was, or what he was supposed to do next.

He found he had a lump in his throat and kept glancing at the park across the street, but they were gone now. He wanted to go find her and take her arm and tell her friends, "Excuse me, we're in love, and we're leaving."