It is early Saturday morning, and I am sitting in my home office. I have just finished answering all of my email, and am thinking a little about my life. My wife passed away many years ago, but my life has not been lonely. Our children are grown and have successful careers of their own now. My oldest son, Brad Jr., is successful in the mid-west. His latest email included some anecdotes about my grandson, and I had to remind my son about the times he had done the very same things when he was that age. My youngest boy, Jeff, has finally realized his dream to become a Major League ball player. He plays left field for one of the west-coast teams, and is becoming a star of the diamond. Chris, my daughter and middle child, has become successful as a financial consultant. She even helped her old dad to become financially independent. Following her suggestions I was able to retire early, and now at 55 I no longer have to punch a clock. I also don't have to worry about money, and I can spend my time acquiring, maintaining, and re-building unique cars. Some I sell to other enthusiasts and some I add to my own collection. I have become an accomplished restorer and collector.
I stand on his doorstep wondering what am I doing here. Why have I chosen Brad to be the first one I re-connect with? I almost turn to leave, but I realize that I have to start someplace, and it's ridiculous to be afraid of this man. I push the button and wait.
"What will he look like after all these years," I wonder?
The doorbell rings interrupting my thoughts. I wonder, "Who can be calling this early on a Saturday morning?"
I don't look to see who is at the door, but when I open it my heart stops and my breath catches. Katrina, a young woman I thought I would never see again. Her hair, still like fine-spun gold, is cut short making a golden helmet. The crystal blue eyes I remember so well for their laughter, impishness, and intelligence. But there is something more in the eyes. There is an adult awareness as well as a slight sadness. The face is still beautiful with high cheekbones, soft and unblemished skin, but a few tiny lines about the eyes are now visible. A lovely mouth and full lips that I know are oh so kissable. Her clothes are like those I remember from when she was the teenager from down the block a bulky sweatshirt over baggy jeans. The clothes prevent an update on her figure, but that is not important. Katrina is here.
Brad stands before me with the doorknob in his hand and a stunned look on his face. At first I think I've made a mistake coming here. Then I realize the look on his face is one of surprise and amazement, not anger. He hasn't changed that much. The rich brown hair has a little more gray in it, but not that much. The tanned face is the same the lines just a little deeper. The brown eyes, wide with surprise at the moment, are the same. I know they are very expressive of his emotions I've seen it. The body is still strong and lean. All together still a very handsome man. I decide to bring him back to reality.
"Hello, Brad." Her voice jolts me.
I realize that I've been holding my breath. I gulp air and reply, "Katrina, what a wonderful surprise."
"Can I come in, Brad?" she asks with a smile that warms my heart.
I've been gawking like a teenager and completely forgotten my manners. "I'm sorry," I reply, "Please, come in. I was going for coffee. Would you like some?" I step aside for her to pass and close the door.
"I would love some coffee," she says as if she is desperate for some.
I let Katrina lead the way to the kitchen she knows my house as well as a member of the family. She and my kids spent most of their childhood going between our house and hers. I pour the coffee while Katrina settles at the table. As I sit across from her she sips her coffee. Her eyes light up and she smiles as she says, "You remember how I like my coffee."
"That's one of my best skills. I remember how people like their coffee," I reply.
For the next two hours we catch up on each other's lives. My side dwells mostly on my kids, my retirement, and my cars. Katrina's side is much more poignant. I know some of it because Katrina and Chris have kept in touch over the years, as friends will. She fills in the blanks and the details. " I studied for, and became, a computer engineer, and met my husband at my first job after graduation. We had two children, Matthew and Sarah, and I started my own consulting business at home to be with the kids. We were a happy family for 5 years. Then I lost my husband to a traffic accident. I stayed there a while working and taking care of the kids. Unfortunately, I worked at home and my life had revolved around the family. The only friends I had were John's from work, and none had become close. I decided to move back home to start over. I've been back about 18 months, which have been filled with finding a home and re-establishing my business in a new place. That part of my life is finally on an even keel, and I decided that I had to re-connect with the people I once knew. You were the first on my list.
I find that I can still tell this man anything, and I unburden my heart of many of the weights I carry there. Some of these details I have told to no one else. I find that telling them is cathartic for my spirit.
While Katrina brings things up to date I try to concentrate on her words, but my mind keeps wandering back in time. I remembered the 18-year-old young woman that came to me looking for her sexual identity. That led to a relationship that lasted for about 4 months. The relationship was intensely physical, but an emotional attachment had also formed. It had been my idea to end the relationship when she left for college. I had often thought of her over the years with great fondness and even love in a way. To have her back in my house and sitting across from me dumps a set of emotions on me I would never have dreamed of. I suddenly feel complete and content for the first time in a long time. These emotions take me by surprise since I didn't know they were missing. I also feel that this is no way for me to be thinking. I'm not sure what Katrina's presence here is about, but I'm certain she is not interested in a 55-year-old lover.
I find my mind slipping to some of the memories of my previous times with this man. I also find my body tingling with the memories of the pleasure we had given one another. It's hard keeping focused on what I have to say, but I manage to tell the whole story.
When Katrina is up-to-date she sighs and looks at her empty coffee cup. I rise to refill both our cups, and turn back to her. "Katrina, I'm glad you've come to see me. I would like to continue getting re-acquainted, and if you're still in a mood to talk we can continue out in the garage. Is that ok?"
"Sure," she replies as she stands up.
Katrina knows I like to work on cars. She turns and heads to the garage attached to the house carrying her coffee.
"No sweetie," I say. "This way."
I lead the way through the sliding glass door that lead to the rear deck, then across the deck and down into the yard. As we cross lawn to the rear of my property Katrina sees the large barn-like structure I had built there.
"What's this," she asks? "You didn't say anything about keeping horses here."
"Well, I guess they are horses in a way." I reply. "I told you that I am in to full time car collecting and restoration didn't I?"
"Sure," she said. "But I thought you meant in the other garage."
"No, I out grew the garage several years ago." I say this as I unlock and open the large doors that lead into my display area and workshop.
I flip on the lights and hear a gasp from behind me. Katrina begins walking slowly down the center lane of the display area. Her eyes are large and her mouth slightly open as her head goes from side to side taking in all the gleaming paintwork before her. I walk beside her, and she is like a child walking through the best toy store in the world. My personal collection has risen to 20 in number. All are classics and from several different eras. She stops at a low-slung blue and white number and points. "This one I know," she says.
"I should think so." She is pointing to the Shelby Cobra GT that had carried us on our first date. We had also shared each other's bodies on its hood one night while on a nearby mountain watching the stars. I quickly banish that thought to the back of my mind.
