It Happened on Maple Street

On my next break I sent another message.

I told you I’m intense.

Later that night my mood had changed yet again.

Where are you?

And when I finished work for the day, I just needed facts.

If you’re backtracking, please let me know.

He didn’t answer. And when it was past the time he should be home and in bed, I called him. He didn’t answer then, either.

By the time Elaine got home, I’d had a couple of glasses of wine and had convinced myself it was all for the best.

My life and Tim’s were too dichotomous. I was big city. He was small town. I was warmth and sunshine. He was cold and snow.

I was frigid. He was on fire.

As soon as I got this book done I was going to start planning my move to Phoenix. I had to arrange for a moving company. Find a place to rent.

I had to tell my Mom that Chris and I were through.

Before I went to bed I sent Tim one last text, apologizing for all of the text messages.

Tim didn’t get Tara’s text messages until late. Too late. He’d been at a friend’s house most of the night playing cards. A time-out.

Tara had been back in his life less than a week and already she was his everything. The thought of her there, not quite divorced, with the man she’d spent twenty-some years with close by had freaked him out.

Or so he told himself.

What really got to him was her. Since she’d broken his heart at eighteen he’d been his own man. In his deepest heart, at least. A part of him had remained emotionally detached. Free.

That small, undetached part of him was his safety valve. He understood that now.

With Tara, there was no safety valve.

But he’d told her he was her safe place. That he’d always be there. And, instead, he’d been out playing cards.

He owed her the bone-deep truth.

Sitting down at his computer in a still dark house, he put his fingers on the keyboard and began to type:

Tara

Good morning. Please note the time (6:00 AM, another sleepless night). I have something to explain.

First, thanks for the text messages. I’d turned off my phone, which is something I never do, but I did. Anyway, please don’t stop texting. I look forward to your messages. They show me that you are thinking about me and you do care about me.

Now for the hard part. In my life I have lived with a lot of walls. In the past six months I realized that my walls had shut everyone out. So I set out to change that. I wanted to see the outside world again. Good news is that I have been moderately successful. I can see and feel more clearly than I ever have. That’s why I had the courage to get in contact with you.

But as usually happens, it’s not all that easy or clear. You were my first love, and first loves always own a piece of your heart. But more than that, it’s like you have a free pass anytime, anywhere, to walk right into my heart and do as you please. That’s a bit tough for a guy like me to take.

That’s one reason why I’ve been trying to get to your deepest feelings. Turns out you’re even more guarded than I am. I know I want us to move forward.

In one of your text messages last night you said it was my choice. But I made my choice last Sunday when I got in touch with you, and I’m sticking to it.

Whether we move forward is your choice.