Two's Company...

Emma put on her favorite red lipstick and smoothed out the wisps of hair that fell from the French Roll at the back of her head.

"Something's not quite right," she said to herself.

"What's not right?" asked her sister Mariss, while hiding a gift behind her back.

"I don't know," said Emma. "It seems like I've done everything that I should have – my make-up is on, my hair is done, I bought this new dress and these shoes, and I put on my sparkly necklace and earrings. What more could I need?"

"This!" said Mariss, as she presented a white rose arrangement in a gift box. She placed the corsage on Emma's wrist and wrapped the ribbon into a tidy bow.

"It's lovely. It's the finishing touch. Thank you, my Dear."

"You look especially beautiful tonight. Are you hoping to meet someone special?"

"I don't know what you mean, Mariss."

"Yes, you do. Are you hoping to see Brent this year?"

"He didn't come to the twentieth or the thirtieth or the fortieth. I can't imagine why he would show up at this reunion. I wonder who he married – and if he has a family."

"Maybe you'll find out tonight."

"Oh, shush Mariss. I can't even let myself think about such things."

"Well, you're single now. Gary passed away more than six years ago. It would be nice for you to settle down with someone."

"I'm sure I'm far too old for that now."

"Old?? You're only sixty-eight! You've got a lot more miles left on those tires," Mariss winked at Emma.

"Oh, Mariss… You shouldn't say things like that."

"Remember when we were kids and Brent would walk you home from school, holding hands when you were twelve years old?"

"I remember. You used to follow me like my shadow."

"Yes. And Brent would turn around and say, ‘Two's company and three's a crowd. Go walk ahead and leave us alone Mariss.'"

"Yes, he did say that."

"And the time you snuck out of the house and Brent was kissing you on the porch, and I was spying on you in the bushes?"

"Yes. He saw you and said, ‘I see you hiding there Mariss – two's company and three's a crowd. You'd better get in the house before your Dad catches you out here.' I think you grew to hate that saying."

"I sure did," said Mariss. "I remember when Brent went to Dad and asked him if he could marry you when you were barely sixteen. Dad took a fit and told him he could never see you again."

"That was when I was sent off to live with Aunt Bertie for two years to help out with looking after her six children. That was the hardest time of my life. I felt so alone and heartbroken. When I got back home, Brent was in the army. I didn't know where he was and then Mom and Dad moved us all out west, and I never heard from him again."

It sure would be nice… Emma thought to herself.

"Well, we'd better get going, or you'll be late," said Mariss. "I'll pick you up at 11:30 unless you get a ride from a secret admirer."

Fat chance of that... thought Emma.

***

Emma stood wobbly-kneed, at the front door to the gymnasium of Winnifred Laurier High. The tarred smell of rubber basketballs hung in the air. As she entered the room, a hush fell over the chattering crowd of former classmates.

Emma's cheeks flushed. She'd have rathered crawl under a rock than to walk any further. It seemed as though the thunderous clacking of her kitten heels on the polished floor fairly equaled the distinct swishing noise of her taffeta skirt as her feet propelled her forward while her mind raced to find an exit door.

"Here's Emma," shouted someone from the crowd. Suddenly everyone rushed towards her, and many hugs and compliments ensued.

"Attention everyone," announced the Emcee. "Please find your chairs and remain seated throughout the dinner segment as there will be entertainment provided. After dinner, we will enjoy a dance and some socializing."

Emma searched the tables that circled the perimeter of the room until she found a name card – not her name card, but one that said, Brent Forrester. Her breath seemed to catch for a moment. Dare she hope? No, she thought, he won't come. She walked around the big round table, found her card on the other side, and sat in her assigned spot. Suddenly the room fell silent again. Emma strained to see what was happening but the crowd was now standing and blocked her view.

"Please, everyone remain in your seats. There will be plenty of time to visit after dinner," said the emcee.

Brent was directed over to the table where Emma sat across from him. His hair had greyed some, but he was still as handsome as she remembered. His eyes caught hers and lit up. From then on the meal was a frenzy of small talk as people beside each other tried to catch up on the past fifty years. Emma endeavored to see if Brent was wearing a wedding ring, but the centerpiece and bowls of food kept his hand out of sight.

***

"We hope you are all having a good time. And now it's time for the dance portion of our evening. We will draw numbers to choose our 50th Anniversary King and Queen for the first dance," announced the emcee. For the Queen, look under your place card. We are calling number 7 to the center of the floor, please. The chattered frenzy soon hushed as Emma stood up with burning hot cheeks and a racing heart. She gingerly stepped onto the dance floor and waited.

"And now for our 50th Reunion King... let's have number 49!" All the men looked under their place cards. Mickey O'Toole was praying that it would be him. He'd wanted to date Emma as far back as he could remember but she'd only had eyes for Brent. Mickey had tried several times to break them up but it never worked. Mickey peaked under his card...number 48. Damn.

"Does anyone have 49?" Brent lifted the corner of his place card. Nervously, he stood and faced Emma.

"Yes, We have our King and Queen! Will you both come forward and begin the dance."

Brent reached out to take Emma's hand, and she realized she still had her wedding ring on. Brent drew her into his embrace and Emma had that sense of familiarity that brought back her fondest memories of dancing with him all those years ago. He put his cheek on hers as they swayed to the music. The scent of her lavender perfume filled his senses and flooded his soul with remembrances of their past love.

Emma longingly looked Brent straight in the eye. "Tell me about your life for the past fifty years, Brent. What happened to you after I moved to my Aunt's house?"

"Well, my Dad enlisted me in the army, and I served there for four years. Then I took some training and became a doctor. I have a family practice only a half-hour from here in Oxford County. I'd like to retire soon, but I'm not sure I'm ready yet. What about you? What happened to you after…" Brent felt a tap on his shoulder.

"May I cut in?" asked Mickey O'Toole. "You can't hog the prettiest girl in the class all to yourself."

"Well, we just got started…." said Brent, as Mickey swept Emma into his arms and across the dance floor. And so it went on as song after song played and dance partner after dance partner changed for the next hour.

***

"Attention please…we will have a short break now to take a few minutes to visit and have some refreshments before we start the final dance portion of the night. Enjoy yourselves!" said the emcee.

Brent headed over to the drinks table and scooped out two cups of punch. He brought one over to Emma and said, "Finally, we get a few minutes to talk. So, what about you? Did you marry and have a family?"

"Yes – my husband…." Just then jealous Mary Barnes swooped in and put her arm in Brent's and said, "Hey, here's the guy I've wanted to talk to all night long. Come over here with me. I've got something to tell you." Brent had no say in the matter. When Mary Barnes wanted something, she got it, and she wanted Brent. Mary dragged him outside where she could batt her eyes at him and smile that fake, sweet smile that used to win over many hearts in high school.

***

"OK, class, we will resume the dance now. We'll start off with a "Lady's Choice."

Mary grabbed Brent's arm and said, "You're my choice – let's go!" Mary led Brent around the room feigning mutual admiration as she stared into Brent's eyes. Brent waited until the song was over and then courteously excused himself saying that he needed the men's room. Secretly he was relieved to be out of Mary's clutches. On the way to the restroom, he spotted Emma sitting alone at the dinner table. Mickey was headed in her direction at the same time but Brent beat him to it. He went over and sat in the chair beside her.

"It's been a challenge to have time to talk with you tonight. It seems like we keep getting interrupted. I think you were about to tell me about your husband."

"Yes," said Emma, "I was going to tell you that my husband…" At that moment, Brent's phone rang. He quickly checked who it might be and said, "I'm sorry Emma. I have to take this call. It's an important one."

Brent went outside to take his call. "I see. I'll be right there."

Mickey O'Toole walked by and Brent said, "Mickey…I've got an emergency at the hospital. I shouldn't be too long. Please, will you go tell Emma that I had to leave. Tell her that I will meet her here later. Don't forget!"

"I won't," said Mickey with a wry smile. In his heart he said, I lost Emma to you for the last time Brent. This time I won't let her slip through my hands again.

Mickey entered the gymnasium and was immediately snagged by Mary Barnes. "Mickey, you old dog…I haven't seen you in years. Tell me, what you've been doing all this time?" Mickey had no chance of escape. Mary yanked him outside and talked his ear off for the rest of the night.

***

Emma sat patiently waiting for half an hour. An hour. Another hour. Finally, the announcement came, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to have the last dance. Thank you for coming, and we look forward to seeing you in another five years for our fifty-fifth reunion!"

Old Ben Tucker approached Emma. "May I have this dance, Miss Emma?"

"Yes, you may," said Emma, her superficial smile belying the gloominess in her heart.

The dance was done. The night was over. Emma glanced around one last time to see if Brent was there somewhere. Mickey spotted Emma and swiftly crossed the auditorium.

"Emma, I'm so sorry that I didn't get to speak to you at all tonight. I was wondering... if you're still in town tomorrow if you'd have dinner with me."

"I uh... well... I have some tentative plans for tomorrow. I'm awfully sorry Mickey."

"That's okay. I'll call you tomorrow. You never know. Your plans might fall through, and I'd love to talk about old times."

"Well... I'll think about it."

***

Emma stepped out into the parking lot and got into Mariss's car. "Why the sad face? Did something go wrong?"

"Yes. Brent did come tonight, but we didn’t get to talk to each other very much. He thinks I'm still married, and then he got called away to the hospital for an emergency. I guess it's just fate. I guess we weren't meant to be together. I'm sure that after all these years he probably got married too. And to top it all off Mickey O'Toole asked me out for dinner tomorrow night."

"Well, maybe you should go. Sometimes people change. Maybe he's a nice guy now. Anyway, never mind that right now. We'll go home, and I'll make you a nice cup of tea, and we'll sit for a while." Mariss pulled into the driveway of their old childhood house that they grew up in.

Emma said, "You go on in Mariss. I think I'd like to just sit out on the porch for a bit by myself if you don't mind."

"That's fine. I'll bring out some tea for you later."

***

Emma sat staring out at the moon and wondered what she would do with her life now. She had always wanted to travel but was never one to enjoy doing it alone. I suppose I could sign up for some volunteer work at the nursing home, she thought. It wasn't something she longed to do, but it would keep her busy and less lonely. Just then a car pulled up slowly and stopped in front of the house. A man got out and walked towards the porch.

"Is that you, Emma?"

"Brent? How did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't," he said. "I just thought I'd take a chance and see if your family still owned the old house."

"I'm so glad that you came back. I didn't think I'd get to see you again and there is something that I didn't get to tell you." Brent sat on the swing beside Emma. "You see, I did have a husband, but he passed away six years ago. He was a good man, but I have to say that it was not the same kind of love that I had for you. I was torn away from you because we were too young, but that never took away the deep feelings for you that always stayed in my heart."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Emma. I found out that your husband passed away because Mary Barnes told me the life histories of pretty well everyone in the class. I have some things that I want to tell you too. I never married. I came close once, but I couldn't do it. No one could ever hold my heart as you did." Brent leaned toward Emma until their lips almost met.

Something rustled in the bushes. “Who’s there?” asked Emma.

“It’s me,” said Mickey as he stepped up onto the porch. “I’ve sat on the sidelines for you all of my life Emma. But no more.” Mickey pulled a handgun out of his coat pocket and pointed it at Brent.

“NO, Mickey!!” shouted Emma. “Don’t do it!”

“It’s no use, Emma. If I can’t have you nobody will.”

Brent knew that he wasn’t positioned to stop Mickey. He looked at Emma and spoke his last words, “I love you, Emma. I always will.”

Mickey pulled back the hammer and put his shaky finger on the trigger, now aimed at Brent’s head.

“Here’s your tea,” chirped Mariss as she flung open the wooden screen door, bashing Mickey in the back of the head. Bang! The gun fired up into the porch roof and Brent bolted off the swing. Grabbing Mickey’s hand, Brent wrestled the gun free and threw it into the bushes.

Mickey broke loose of Brent's grip and ran into the back field. Brent said, “Let him go. Mariss, you call the Sheriff.” Mariss went inside.

Brent put his arm around Emma. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Emma, visibly shaken buried her head into Brent’s shoulder. “Oh Brent, I was so scared that I would lose you!”

“You’ll never lose me again. I love you now just as much as I did all those years ago. I want you to marry me.” Brent cupped Emma's face in his hands, tenderly kissing her soft lips.

Mariss opened the door and said, "The Sheriff is on his way. Here's your cup of…"

Brent looked over at Mariss, winked, and said, "Two's company and three's a crowd, Mariss.”

Mariss turned around and went back into the house muttering under her breath, "I still hate that saying…"

~~~

If you enjoyed this story, please read one of my true-life stories here...