It Happened on Maple Street

A wave of fear passed over me and TTQ swooped in.

I’m out of here for today. I’m on deadline and this week is going to have some late nights, but if I start this early in the week, I’ll be in trouble by the end. So . . . until tomorrow . . .

Tara

Tim was at home alone, pushing himself to the limit on the treadmill that night. In twenty-four hours his entire life had turned upside down. Tara was there! And yet . . . she wasn’t. She was answering him. But her letters were so formal. Because she was blowing him off?

When he heard the new message alert on his computer on the other side of the spare bedroom that was both workout room and office, he flipped the treadmill off and went to see what she’d written.

Parts of the post didn’t sound like his Tara. But other parts did.

And as he read her exposition of her life, he started to understand a bit better.

Out of everything she’d written, those lines stood out. He read them again. And wrote back immediately.

I’d left the office, but I didn’t leave Tim behind. I pulled up my e-mail on my smartphone and watched for a reply to my post. My stomach was in knots. His name popped up while I was in my car in the parking lot of a pizza place. I was taking dinner home to my new landlord and her kid.

Okay, I needed that. I had no idea what I was walking into. I just kept thinking that I was pouring out my heart to you and telling you how much you mean to me now and in past years, and all you were giving me was this journalist view of your life.I never even once thought of you as this person who received fan mail and dealt with all the other stuff that goes with being out in the public. Again, my view of you is this cute little blonde girl who broke my heart at Wright State. I can now understand why you were so matter of fact in your conversations—duh, I get it now. Forgive me, I was only thinking of myself and my emotions and not taking yours into account. Please just feel safe with me. I HAVE NO HIDDEN MOTIVE, only want to reconnect after a lot of years and catch up.

I want to find out more about your past and listen to your feelings. I’m good at reading between the lines, and I feel and hear a lot of pain. We can share that later if you want. Mostly I want you to know I will always listen if you need. Talk later.

P.S. You really sounded like you need a hug today.

Tim

I hit reply, but couldn’t see the small keyboard on my phone through my tears. I took the pizza home. I went to bed. And wished that I could lay my head on Tim’s chest and go to sleep.

Twenty

THE NEXT MORNING WHEN I OPENED MY E-MAIL, THERE was another message from Tim in my inbox. And I opened the post with mixed emotions. I needed Tim so desperately. And I couldn’t be the other half of his whole.

Tara,

I thought about you a lot over the years and always wondered how you were doing, and what you were doing. Do you remember when I came to see you in the summer of 1980 after we had broken up? You were engaged to some guy named James. And you were different. I’ve always wondered why.

The other day I was reading the letters you wrote to me from Armstrong. They were cute, and I loved them. I’m going to scan them and send them to you, to remind you of who you were, in case you have forgotten. Because the truth is, no matter how famous you get I just can’t see you that way. I will always see you as my October Daze girl. Oh, by the way I have a newspaper clipping of the article you wrote for the Dayton Daily News about the commissioner’s race. That was the night you shushed me when I was trying to talk to you.

Tara, I’m really sad to see that you have such thick walls. I understand why, but you have to let some people in your life. I know it can be difficult to let people see your heart because they can easily break it, but a broken heart is just like anything else broken—it can be put back together with the right glue and touch.

I really like talking with you and hearing about your life. I don’t want you to worry about saying or doing the right thing, just let it out and be yourself. I like that.

Well, October, I’ve got to go. I’m killing my spell check and grammar check (I’ve never seen so many red and green lines).

Take Care of Yourself.

Love you,

Tim

Oh, God. He was doing it to me again. Pulling me into him. Just like he had in geology class all those years ago. I had to say no. Even if we didn’t live a country apart, I couldn’t give him anything but friendship. I couldn’t do this—couldn’t let him consume my life. Couldn’t let something build between us.

My heart didn’t listen to me. It listened to him.

It was almost impossible to believe that only two days had passed since I’d first heard from Classmates.com. My entire universe had tilted.

I wrote back to him first thing. Or, rather, TTQ did.

Okay, I have to say, I love the part about red and green lines! I feel for your spell check! Those lines are some of my best friends, you know, so watch how you treat them!