Short Stories
Love Always, From Brooklyn
a short story by Erin Shaw
a short story by Erin Shaw
To anyone else it was just a normal humid Tuesday in New York City during the summer. But to her, it was a day made up of a dozen little moments that when pieced together changed the course of her life forever.
If the water in her apartment hadn’t been shut off by the Super for repairs, she would have gotten out the door on time, and if she’d left on time, she would have caught her regular train and been at her desk by eight-thirty. If she’d been at her desk at eight-thirty she would have made her lunch meeting on time and then would have left work on time.
But because of this series of events, she ended up leaving the office forty-five minutes late, and missed her regular train. If she’d been on her regular train, she wouldn’t have been standing on the platform as another train’s passengers disembarked and she wouldn’t have seen the glint of gold on the concrete.
She reached down and picked it up. An emerald ring. It looked valuable, like a family heirloom. By the time she had examined it and looked up to find its owner, the platform was mostly clear except for a few teenage students. She put the ring in her pocket and decided she’d take it to the nearby police precinct in the morning. When the next train came, she boarded it and went home.
That night, she lay in bed looking at the ring. She played with it, rolling it between her fingers. It was a stunning piece of jewelry - a relic of times gone by. Her eyes were starting to get heavy and as she began to drift off to sleep, she instinctually put the ring on her finger so she wouldn’t drop it. It fit perfectly. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a low rumble of thunder. The summer was coming to a close, could this be the final thunderstorm of the season? She drifted off to sleep peacefully.
She awoke early, pulling the covers over her shivering body. It was cold in her apartment. As her eyes adjusted to the light she wondered if maybe she left the air conditioning on too low overnight, but she didn’t hear any mechanical sounds coming from the window unit in the other room. Finally, she rose from her bed and got up to grab her robe out of the closet. She wrapped it around herself as she walked toward her A/C unit. She reached for the button, but before her fingers got there, she noticed it was in fact turned off. Catching sight of the ring still on her finger, she remembered that she needed to take it to the police precinct and turn it in. She tried to pull it off of her finger, but it was stuck. She’d have to use soap and water to loosen it.
There was a general feeling of confusion as she shifted, teeth chattering, toward the kitchen to make coffee, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she walked passed her window. She blinked her eyes a few times and then squinted hard to make sure she was seeing correctly. Outside, the city was covered in snow.
At first, she thought she was still dreaming, or seeing things so she went and took a hot shower to try and shake herself out of the reverie. She combed out her hair, dried it and got dressed for the day; the ring remained stubbornly stuck on her finger.
She walked back to the window expecting to see the summer heat radiating from the pavement outside, but there was only a blanket of white.
She flipped on the radio to see if anyone was talking about a weather emergency. Climate change had really kicked into overdrive. The NPR news announcer was talking about a play on Broadway that hadn’t been out in almost a decade. She hadn’t heard anything about a revival... She thought this was odd, as she usually had her ear to the ground about these kinds of things. Then the news break came, and her body went rigid as she listened to the headlines. Progress at Ground Zero in preparation for the ten-year anniversary of 9/11. Her fingers gripped the counter top and she felt herself sink on to the floor of the kitchen. What was happening?
She sat there, completely bewildered for a few minutes. Was this a dream? Fingers pressed into her temples, she took a few deep breaths, and then got up, put warmer clothes on and a warm coat. She retrieved her gloves, scarf and hat from the back of her closet, grabbed her bag and keys and walked out of the door of her apartment. She needed more information.
As soon as she was outside, the chill hit her face and she looked up instinctually and smiled as the snowflakes fell delicately on to her cheeks. It was impossible not to feel the wonder of falling snow. She walked along the sidewalk to the bodega at the corner, opened the door and made a beeline for the stack of newspapers on the counter. She picked up the New York Times. At the top right corner the date read, December 1, 2009.
Her jaw went slack and her mouth fell open. After standing there rooted to the spot for longer than was appropriate, the man behind the counter asked if she’d like to buy the paper. She nodded absentmindedly and reached into her purse for some money.
With the newspaper in hand, she walked out of the bodega and headed toward the subway, a force of habit. The station at Cortelyou Road was bustling with morning rush hour traffic, but she barely noticed another soul around her. Sitting on the Manhattan bound Q train, her mind raced. There was something about the date that felt significant to her, but she couldn’t place it.
When she got off the train at 14th Street, she walked into a bookstore to take a refuge from the weather. If she was really in 2009, she didn’t have her job, she didn’t have any responsibilities; she had the entire day to do anything she wanted in the city, and that thought appealed to her. Maybe she was still asleep dreaming, maybe she was going crazy, but in that instant she didn’t care.
She walked out of the bookstore and headed back to the train. If she had been transported back in time, then she was going to make the most of it... at least before she woke up, or discovered she was in the hospital waking from a coma. She half-ran back into the subway station and took the train uptown to Hell’s Kitchen.
Seated at her favorite diner, she ordered her favorite greasy breakfast and drank coffee with milk and sugar like she had when she was twenty-four. Her feelings of fear and confusion were beginning to subside and she decided she was going to enjoy this completely bizarre day. She’d figure the rest out later.
She pulled some paper and a pen out of her purse and made a list of all the things she never did in New York when she was younger, the things that she promised herself she’d get around to when there was time. There were museums she’d never been to, restaurants she’d never tried, silly tourist attractions she now rolled her eyes at, plays on Broadway she’d missed, that were running on this very day! She would fill her day with every second-chance experience she could manage.
When the check came, she reached into her purse for her wallet. Her current ID and all of her credit cards were the same. She decided she’d better not risk arousing any suspicion, so she paid her check with cash, after which she went into the bathroom and checked her reflection again in the mirror.
She pushed some lose strands of hair behind her ear, the emerald ring still stuck on her finger. She didn’t look any younger. It appeared that her age had not changed, she’d simply arrived ten years in the past upon waking. She raised her eyebrows at her reflection, took a deep breath and prepared to set out for her day.
If the water in her apartment hadn’t been shut off by the Super for repairs, she would have gotten out the door on time, and if she’d left on time, she would have caught her regular train and been at her desk by eight-thirty. If she’d been at her desk at eight-thirty she would have made her lunch meeting on time and then would have left work on time.
But because of this series of events, she ended up leaving the office forty-five minutes late, and missed her regular train. If she’d been on her regular train, she wouldn’t have been standing on the platform as another train’s passengers disembarked and she wouldn’t have seen the glint of gold on the concrete.
She reached down and picked it up. An emerald ring. It looked valuable, like a family heirloom. By the time she had examined it and looked up to find its owner, the platform was mostly clear except for a few teenage students. She put the ring in her pocket and decided she’d take it to the nearby police precinct in the morning. When the next train came, she boarded it and went home.
That night, she lay in bed looking at the ring. She played with it, rolling it between her fingers. It was a stunning piece of jewelry - a relic of times gone by. Her eyes were starting to get heavy and as she began to drift off to sleep, she instinctually put the ring on her finger so she wouldn’t drop it. It fit perfectly. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a low rumble of thunder. The summer was coming to a close, could this be the final thunderstorm of the season? She drifted off to sleep peacefully.
She awoke early, pulling the covers over her shivering body. It was cold in her apartment. As her eyes adjusted to the light she wondered if maybe she left the air conditioning on too low overnight, but she didn’t hear any mechanical sounds coming from the window unit in the other room. Finally, she rose from her bed and got up to grab her robe out of the closet. She wrapped it around herself as she walked toward her A/C unit. She reached for the button, but before her fingers got there, she noticed it was in fact turned off. Catching sight of the ring still on her finger, she remembered that she needed to take it to the police precinct and turn it in. She tried to pull it off of her finger, but it was stuck. She’d have to use soap and water to loosen it.
There was a general feeling of confusion as she shifted, teeth chattering, toward the kitchen to make coffee, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she walked passed her window. She blinked her eyes a few times and then squinted hard to make sure she was seeing correctly. Outside, the city was covered in snow.
At first, she thought she was still dreaming, or seeing things so she went and took a hot shower to try and shake herself out of the reverie. She combed out her hair, dried it and got dressed for the day; the ring remained stubbornly stuck on her finger.
She walked back to the window expecting to see the summer heat radiating from the pavement outside, but there was only a blanket of white.
She flipped on the radio to see if anyone was talking about a weather emergency. Climate change had really kicked into overdrive. The NPR news announcer was talking about a play on Broadway that hadn’t been out in almost a decade. She hadn’t heard anything about a revival... She thought this was odd, as she usually had her ear to the ground about these kinds of things. Then the news break came, and her body went rigid as she listened to the headlines. Progress at Ground Zero in preparation for the ten-year anniversary of 9/11. Her fingers gripped the counter top and she felt herself sink on to the floor of the kitchen. What was happening?
She sat there, completely bewildered for a few minutes. Was this a dream? Fingers pressed into her temples, she took a few deep breaths, and then got up, put warmer clothes on and a warm coat. She retrieved her gloves, scarf and hat from the back of her closet, grabbed her bag and keys and walked out of the door of her apartment. She needed more information.
As soon as she was outside, the chill hit her face and she looked up instinctually and smiled as the snowflakes fell delicately on to her cheeks. It was impossible not to feel the wonder of falling snow. She walked along the sidewalk to the bodega at the corner, opened the door and made a beeline for the stack of newspapers on the counter. She picked up the New York Times. At the top right corner the date read, December 1, 2009.
Her jaw went slack and her mouth fell open. After standing there rooted to the spot for longer than was appropriate, the man behind the counter asked if she’d like to buy the paper. She nodded absentmindedly and reached into her purse for some money.
With the newspaper in hand, she walked out of the bodega and headed toward the subway, a force of habit. The station at Cortelyou Road was bustling with morning rush hour traffic, but she barely noticed another soul around her. Sitting on the Manhattan bound Q train, her mind raced. There was something about the date that felt significant to her, but she couldn’t place it.
When she got off the train at 14th Street, she walked into a bookstore to take a refuge from the weather. If she was really in 2009, she didn’t have her job, she didn’t have any responsibilities; she had the entire day to do anything she wanted in the city, and that thought appealed to her. Maybe she was still asleep dreaming, maybe she was going crazy, but in that instant she didn’t care.
She walked out of the bookstore and headed back to the train. If she had been transported back in time, then she was going to make the most of it... at least before she woke up, or discovered she was in the hospital waking from a coma. She half-ran back into the subway station and took the train uptown to Hell’s Kitchen.
Seated at her favorite diner, she ordered her favorite greasy breakfast and drank coffee with milk and sugar like she had when she was twenty-four. Her feelings of fear and confusion were beginning to subside and she decided she was going to enjoy this completely bizarre day. She’d figure the rest out later.
She pulled some paper and a pen out of her purse and made a list of all the things she never did in New York when she was younger, the things that she promised herself she’d get around to when there was time. There were museums she’d never been to, restaurants she’d never tried, silly tourist attractions she now rolled her eyes at, plays on Broadway she’d missed, that were running on this very day! She would fill her day with every second-chance experience she could manage.
When the check came, she reached into her purse for her wallet. Her current ID and all of her credit cards were the same. She decided she’d better not risk arousing any suspicion, so she paid her check with cash, after which she went into the bathroom and checked her reflection again in the mirror.
She pushed some lose strands of hair behind her ear, the emerald ring still stuck on her finger. She didn’t look any younger. It appeared that her age had not changed, she’d simply arrived ten years in the past upon waking. She raised her eyebrows at her reflection, took a deep breath and prepared to set out for her day.
* * *
When she walked out of The Museum of Modern Art, it was already dark out. The chilly evening breeze hit her face, rousing her from the warm, sleepy feeling she’d felt inside. There was an electricity in the air. The idea that this spell could be broken at any moment invigorated her. She was determined to live each moment to its fullest.
In her pocket was a ticket to see a Broadway play that would begin in under an hour. It was one she’d always wanted to see. At twenty-four she’d been so in love with the theatre. It was all she wanted in the world to do, but she’d never gotten there. Even so, she had loved every minute of trying.
At twenty-four she’d been working odd jobs and auditioning for plays on Broadway every chance she got. Her life was totally different than its current iteration. It was the most difficult and the most exciting time of her life. She’d been so happy. She’d been hustling and working every day to make her dreams come true. And she’d been in love… with him.
Like a shot of adrenaline the memory hit her. The reason that the date on the newspaper this morning had been so significant. December 1, 2009 was the day they had had their first date.
She gasped aloud with the realization. Could there possibly be a reason that she’d woken up today? Was there some kind of deeper meaning here? She looked at her watch. It was seven-thirty. Any minute they’d be meeting in Columbus Circle. She reached into her pocket and looked at the theatre ticket. She hesitated for a moment, but then made her decision. She ripped up the ticket and took off running up 7th Avenue.
It had been so long since she had fallen in love with him. Could it all have been as wonderful as she remembered? Or were her memories tainted by the passage of time? It hadn’t ended well. They had been so young and they wanted such different things out of their lives at that time. He wanted to build a career, and she wanted a real commitment. She wanted someone to give to her the worthiness that she’d never been able to find for herself, and when he wasn’t able to do that, she had grown bitter. He was determined to not be tied down, to achieve his goals without any help and he had pushed her away. And just like that, they fell out of love and they hadn’t spoken in years. Yet, no one had eclipsed him in all that time. She’d never known the kind of love she shared with him with anyone else. It was hard to decipher how she truly felt about it now. It was a quandary.
As she approached Columbus Circle, she saw him from a distance and her heart began to race. There he was, like a perfect relic of the past, standing there waiting for her. She’d been late to meet him that night. It had taken her too much time to decide what to wear. She had wanted her outfit to be perfect.
She walked a bit closer and felt her own eyes widen at the sight of him. He was exactly as she remembered. Boyish good looks, hair perfectly coiffed, sheepish smile. He looked nervous waiting for her, checking his watch every so often. She wanted so badly to hear his voice. She seated herself on a bench at the corner near the entrance of the park so as not to be seen.
After a few minutes of watching him, she realized that her younger self had not showed up and she wondered if she was supposed to step in and take her place for the evening. Unsure of what to do, she felt panicked. What if she had messed with time? What if he just stood there and she never met him? Would it affect her current existence? She was just about to run across the street and call out his name when she saw him begin to walk away. Her heart sank momentarily until she noticed another figure in a red overcoat approaching him. He had always teased her about the color. Her Carmen San Diego coat, he called it.
Her heart lifted once again when she saw them embrace. It was the most surreal moment she’d ever experienced. They were smiling and laughing as she apologized for being so late, and he joked that he’d almost given up hope and gone home. They started walking up Broadway together, talking animatedly. There was a lightness there – a simple, pure joy, and she remembered the feeling as she watched. It was just the beginning for them.
She walked a ways behind them up the street, but close enough to hear their conversation. It was like watching an old family video of a school play you were in. The words coming out of your own mouth were distantly familiar, but you’d vaguely forgotten them. Her younger self fumbled over her words in moments, and made jokes that were born out of the insecurities of her youth. Watching it, she shook her head in amusement.
She had changed so much in ten years. She imagined he had too. She knew through the grapevine of social media where he was. Off in California, not married, but usually with a pretty girl on his arm in photos. Still charming and handsome as ever, but maybe not as happy as he seemed in this moment. She wondered what it would be like to talk to him now. To hear about how his life was. Would there be some kind of connection between them still?
She watched their former selves veer on to Amsterdam Avenue, and she knew the exact bar they were heading to. It felt weird to be spying on them, but she had a feeling that if they knew the circumstances, she would have their blessing. Who wouldn’t take advantage of being able to see moments from their past?
Even so, she didn’t want to disturb their evening. She would observe from a respectful distance, so she hailed a cab to beat them to the bar and was safely at a corner table with her back to the door by the time they walked in fifteen minutes later. She ordered a drink from the server to avoid the bartender, whom she knew they would interact with as they ordered their drinks.
Over the course of the next few hours, she sat there quietly, pretending to be reading a book, but instead she just listened to them talk and get to know each other. It was the most unusual feeling, hearing her former self speak about her life and her dreams and goals, but having the knowledge herself of what was to come. There were so many moments of disappointment that awaited her. Even in spite all of the joy she would feel in the next decade, there would be an inordinate amount of pain too. So many lessons to learn, and she would learn many of them the hard way. It was heartbreaking to think about, and yet the spirit of that girl, the strength she possessed would never waiver. She would always manage to figure everything out.
As they talked she kept her back to them, but she could see the scene in her mind as it played out behind her. She remembered the way his green eyes had permeated her. They were so warm, so caring. He made her feel so safe, always.
After some time, she heard their voices getting lower and more hushed and she knew that he was about to take her hand for the first time, and that moments later they would pay their tab, walk outside into the snow and share their very first kiss. It felt too intrusive and voyeuristic to witness these most intimate moments, so she walked into the bathroom hallway and exited the bar out the back.
As she boarded the train heading home, she sat back and rested in her reverie. What a strange gift to be able to revisit one of the most seminal moments of her existence. She knew what would follow over the course of the next few days, weeks, months, years. She saw it all in her mind. Every moment, every date, every fight, every kiss, every tear shed. The ways they would miss the true meaning of what they were sharing. The ways they would lash out at each other, rather than lift each other up. The ways they’d push each other away, point their fingers and blame, when they should have held tight to each other.
She knew they would lose sight of how precious love can be. How rare it is to find someone you truly connect with, someone who has the capacity to be your best friend as you move through life. They had been unable to appreciate what they held in their hands. They had missed the deeper meaning of the experience, and they had suffered because of this oversight.
As the train entered the tunnel under the East River, she took a deep breath. The truth of the situation washed over her and she felt tears fall from her eyes. She felt the weight of the loss overcome her. The years she had pretended she was better off without him, that he hadn’t been what she wanted. That she could do better. Here she’d been given a second chance, but only to observe, not participate. How cruel.
If only there was some way she could reach out to him now; to the present version of him, the thirty-five year old him. She wished with all her heart that she could call him. She wanted to hear his voice, speaking to her, not to her younger self. She wanted more than anything just to say hello.
When the train arrived at Cortelyou Road, she stood up and walked out into the station, the train immediately rumbling away. She breathed out a loud, heavy, frustrated sigh, which was punctuated by a metallic ping sound.
She looked down and the ring had slipped off of her finger, bounced off the concrete and had landed on the tracks. There, sandwiched between the rails, she saw the glint of gold and green. She decided it wasn’t worth the risk trying to retrieve it, and she’d tell a station attendant if she saw one.
As she walked up the stairs toward the street, a rush of hot air assaulted her and she removed her coat instantly. Confused, she ascended the stairs more urgently and emerged on the street. When she looked around there was no snow, only green leafy trees blowing in the warm summer nighttime air.
She stood there for a moment staring around her. Across the street she saw people walking their dogs, late night in shorts and sandals. She gazed around in wonder; in gratitude, and her breath caught in her chest as she knew with absolutely certainty what she had to do.
She reached into her purse, grabbed her phone and dialed the number she still had memorized.
He answered after the second ring.
She took a deep breath, and said, hello.
(c) copyright Erin Shaw 2020
In her pocket was a ticket to see a Broadway play that would begin in under an hour. It was one she’d always wanted to see. At twenty-four she’d been so in love with the theatre. It was all she wanted in the world to do, but she’d never gotten there. Even so, she had loved every minute of trying.
At twenty-four she’d been working odd jobs and auditioning for plays on Broadway every chance she got. Her life was totally different than its current iteration. It was the most difficult and the most exciting time of her life. She’d been so happy. She’d been hustling and working every day to make her dreams come true. And she’d been in love… with him.
Like a shot of adrenaline the memory hit her. The reason that the date on the newspaper this morning had been so significant. December 1, 2009 was the day they had had their first date.
She gasped aloud with the realization. Could there possibly be a reason that she’d woken up today? Was there some kind of deeper meaning here? She looked at her watch. It was seven-thirty. Any minute they’d be meeting in Columbus Circle. She reached into her pocket and looked at the theatre ticket. She hesitated for a moment, but then made her decision. She ripped up the ticket and took off running up 7th Avenue.
It had been so long since she had fallen in love with him. Could it all have been as wonderful as she remembered? Or were her memories tainted by the passage of time? It hadn’t ended well. They had been so young and they wanted such different things out of their lives at that time. He wanted to build a career, and she wanted a real commitment. She wanted someone to give to her the worthiness that she’d never been able to find for herself, and when he wasn’t able to do that, she had grown bitter. He was determined to not be tied down, to achieve his goals without any help and he had pushed her away. And just like that, they fell out of love and they hadn’t spoken in years. Yet, no one had eclipsed him in all that time. She’d never known the kind of love she shared with him with anyone else. It was hard to decipher how she truly felt about it now. It was a quandary.
As she approached Columbus Circle, she saw him from a distance and her heart began to race. There he was, like a perfect relic of the past, standing there waiting for her. She’d been late to meet him that night. It had taken her too much time to decide what to wear. She had wanted her outfit to be perfect.
She walked a bit closer and felt her own eyes widen at the sight of him. He was exactly as she remembered. Boyish good looks, hair perfectly coiffed, sheepish smile. He looked nervous waiting for her, checking his watch every so often. She wanted so badly to hear his voice. She seated herself on a bench at the corner near the entrance of the park so as not to be seen.
After a few minutes of watching him, she realized that her younger self had not showed up and she wondered if she was supposed to step in and take her place for the evening. Unsure of what to do, she felt panicked. What if she had messed with time? What if he just stood there and she never met him? Would it affect her current existence? She was just about to run across the street and call out his name when she saw him begin to walk away. Her heart sank momentarily until she noticed another figure in a red overcoat approaching him. He had always teased her about the color. Her Carmen San Diego coat, he called it.
Her heart lifted once again when she saw them embrace. It was the most surreal moment she’d ever experienced. They were smiling and laughing as she apologized for being so late, and he joked that he’d almost given up hope and gone home. They started walking up Broadway together, talking animatedly. There was a lightness there – a simple, pure joy, and she remembered the feeling as she watched. It was just the beginning for them.
She walked a ways behind them up the street, but close enough to hear their conversation. It was like watching an old family video of a school play you were in. The words coming out of your own mouth were distantly familiar, but you’d vaguely forgotten them. Her younger self fumbled over her words in moments, and made jokes that were born out of the insecurities of her youth. Watching it, she shook her head in amusement.
She had changed so much in ten years. She imagined he had too. She knew through the grapevine of social media where he was. Off in California, not married, but usually with a pretty girl on his arm in photos. Still charming and handsome as ever, but maybe not as happy as he seemed in this moment. She wondered what it would be like to talk to him now. To hear about how his life was. Would there be some kind of connection between them still?
She watched their former selves veer on to Amsterdam Avenue, and she knew the exact bar they were heading to. It felt weird to be spying on them, but she had a feeling that if they knew the circumstances, she would have their blessing. Who wouldn’t take advantage of being able to see moments from their past?
Even so, she didn’t want to disturb their evening. She would observe from a respectful distance, so she hailed a cab to beat them to the bar and was safely at a corner table with her back to the door by the time they walked in fifteen minutes later. She ordered a drink from the server to avoid the bartender, whom she knew they would interact with as they ordered their drinks.
Over the course of the next few hours, she sat there quietly, pretending to be reading a book, but instead she just listened to them talk and get to know each other. It was the most unusual feeling, hearing her former self speak about her life and her dreams and goals, but having the knowledge herself of what was to come. There were so many moments of disappointment that awaited her. Even in spite all of the joy she would feel in the next decade, there would be an inordinate amount of pain too. So many lessons to learn, and she would learn many of them the hard way. It was heartbreaking to think about, and yet the spirit of that girl, the strength she possessed would never waiver. She would always manage to figure everything out.
As they talked she kept her back to them, but she could see the scene in her mind as it played out behind her. She remembered the way his green eyes had permeated her. They were so warm, so caring. He made her feel so safe, always.
After some time, she heard their voices getting lower and more hushed and she knew that he was about to take her hand for the first time, and that moments later they would pay their tab, walk outside into the snow and share their very first kiss. It felt too intrusive and voyeuristic to witness these most intimate moments, so she walked into the bathroom hallway and exited the bar out the back.
As she boarded the train heading home, she sat back and rested in her reverie. What a strange gift to be able to revisit one of the most seminal moments of her existence. She knew what would follow over the course of the next few days, weeks, months, years. She saw it all in her mind. Every moment, every date, every fight, every kiss, every tear shed. The ways they would miss the true meaning of what they were sharing. The ways they would lash out at each other, rather than lift each other up. The ways they’d push each other away, point their fingers and blame, when they should have held tight to each other.
She knew they would lose sight of how precious love can be. How rare it is to find someone you truly connect with, someone who has the capacity to be your best friend as you move through life. They had been unable to appreciate what they held in their hands. They had missed the deeper meaning of the experience, and they had suffered because of this oversight.
As the train entered the tunnel under the East River, she took a deep breath. The truth of the situation washed over her and she felt tears fall from her eyes. She felt the weight of the loss overcome her. The years she had pretended she was better off without him, that he hadn’t been what she wanted. That she could do better. Here she’d been given a second chance, but only to observe, not participate. How cruel.
If only there was some way she could reach out to him now; to the present version of him, the thirty-five year old him. She wished with all her heart that she could call him. She wanted to hear his voice, speaking to her, not to her younger self. She wanted more than anything just to say hello.
When the train arrived at Cortelyou Road, she stood up and walked out into the station, the train immediately rumbling away. She breathed out a loud, heavy, frustrated sigh, which was punctuated by a metallic ping sound.
She looked down and the ring had slipped off of her finger, bounced off the concrete and had landed on the tracks. There, sandwiched between the rails, she saw the glint of gold and green. She decided it wasn’t worth the risk trying to retrieve it, and she’d tell a station attendant if she saw one.
As she walked up the stairs toward the street, a rush of hot air assaulted her and she removed her coat instantly. Confused, she ascended the stairs more urgently and emerged on the street. When she looked around there was no snow, only green leafy trees blowing in the warm summer nighttime air.
She stood there for a moment staring around her. Across the street she saw people walking their dogs, late night in shorts and sandals. She gazed around in wonder; in gratitude, and her breath caught in her chest as she knew with absolutely certainty what she had to do.
She reached into her purse, grabbed her phone and dialed the number she still had memorized.
He answered after the second ring.
She took a deep breath, and said, hello.
(c) copyright Erin Shaw 2020