Fran didn't know when it started. They met the first year of college and had seemed perfect for each other, sharing everything. They could talk for hours about their childhoods, schooling, early jobs, early relationships. They actually listened to each other, noting carefully all the details that made up their existence. She felt so close to him, so totally one.
Now, they had been together for several years. The time had passed quickly for Fran and she was always surprised when she stopped to count and found the years mounting. She loved Chris so much, even more than before. But things had changed somehow. They still shared their days and thoughts, but now Fran was aware of a vacancy in his eyes, a perfunctory nod of his head. He didn't seem to listen anymore, not really.
Fran worried about it, as she worried about everything. They seemed to be growing apart, losing the special connection that made them different. Several times, she tried to bring it up with Chris, hesitantly mentioning her concerns. He would laugh it off, hold her for a moment, then release her into the arms of fear once again. She wasn't sure what to do to bring back the magic.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She packed her things and left a note for Chris, trying once again to explain her thoughts.
Dear Chris, I love you with all my heart. You mean everything to me. I just feel that I am not as important to you as I once was. I feel you are pulling away from me, losing interest in me. I guess I need to know that what I say is important, that what I want is important. I will be at my sister's house, trying to straighten out my mind. I love you. Fran
Chris was finally shaken. He took stock of his life and realized that Fran was important to him. Actually, more than important, she was critical to his happiness. He sat home the first night in shock and denial. He didn't really think she would stay away, that she could stay away. But she didn't return the next day, or the day after that. Each morning, he left for work, sure she would return to him that day. And each night, he came home to an empty, cold house. It amazed him to realize he could sense the lack of her warmth, her very scent, in all the rooms. He could hear slight remnants of her voice, her thoughts floating in the air. At night, he felt her in the bed, turning or shifting the covers.
Chris tried to call her, but she didn't want to talk to him yet. She was trying so hard to figure out what to do with her life, the sad life without Chris in it.
Chris did the next best thing. He called Fran's sister, Laurie. Laurie heard the misery in Chris' voice and, having watched Fran's unhappiness, wanted to help any way she could. They talked, planned and discussed. Finally they hit upon a perfect plan. Chris remembered something Fran had told him years ago, and thought perhaps this was the way to win her back.
That Friday, Laurie and her husband were going out with friends. They invited Fran, but were not at all surprised when she declined. She hadn't gotten dressed for days, preferring her soft, baggy sweats and slippers. They left her curled up on the couch, the fire blazing, a thick quilt wrapped around her and her misery, watching an old movie on TV. As much as they hated leaving her alone, it was part of the plan, so they giggled as they went out to the car.
The movie was a very old one. The main characters hated each other on sight, an event that always promised true love before the final credits. Fran had a huge bowl of buttery popcorn and a big glass of pink lemonade, her favorite movie snack. She sat mesmerized by the unfolding love story, sighing as she thought of Chris and her own failed romance.
When the doorbell rang, she jumped. She wasn't expecting anyone. Nervously, she moved to the door and peeked out. It was Chris, grinning and looking right at her. Hesitantly, she opened the door a crack and asked him what he needed.
Chris looked around and leaned closed to whisper, "Hello, pretty girl. I know you are babysitting and not allowed company, but I had to see you. I even brought your favorite ice cream." Chris held up a container of mint chocolate chip ice cream and tried to look winning.
All of Fran's teen fantasies came flooding back. "The Babysitter and her Boyfriend". How many nights had she babysat with neighborhood kids and wished she had a boyfriend who would come by and bring her ice cream and then make out with her on the couch while the children slept? She and her other dateless friends had discussed it at length, deciding who would be allowed to come into the house, what he would have to bring as a bribe, and how far they would let him go in the making out.
Of course, it never happened. But it was a fantasy that she still remembered clearly, one she had shared with Chris when they first met. Suddenly, it occured to Fran that Chris remembered! Right down to the flavor of ice cream she was most likely to succumb to!
Her mind battled with her heart. God, she wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and invite him in! But her mind wondered if this was just a passing thing, if Chris would return to his less-than-interested self once she was safely ensconced in their apartment. Then she looked into Chris's unique silver eyes, and her heart won.
She opened the door, whispering that the kids were asleep and he would need to be very quiet. She admonished him that he could share a bowl of ice cream and then he would have to leave.
