THE PARK BENCH – A Short Story for January

Isabell sat on the living room floor, taping shut another box, when the phone rang. She got up to walk to the side table by the couch where she’d left her cell phone. Glancing at the number as she picked up the phone, she smiled.

“Hi, Judy,” she said, sitting down on the sofa, glad for a work break.

“Hi, yourself.  Are you ready for the moving van to come tomorrow … and ready for your big move to Greeneville, South Carolina?”

“I am,” she replied. “The movers should get everything packed tomorrow morning, but they won’t head to Greeneville until the next day.  After I do a final cleaning and lock up the house, I’m staying with Daniel overnight, but I’ll head to Greeneville early the next morning. I should get there before the movers to meet them at the house, but if not, I gave them your number to call.” She paused for a minute. “Judy, I really appreciate all you’ve done to be a support in this move, helping me find a house near the campus and my new job. I’m also grateful you and Norman invited me to spend the night with you after I get to Greeneville. I know everything will be a mess at the new house after the movers unload.”

“Isabell Mason, you have been my best friend since we were little girls ,and as you well know I married your older brother Norman. We are always happy for you to stay with us anytime.” She laughed. “Additionally, I helped you find your house through Rollins Realty, my family’s realty company where I work, if you remember. I will get a commission for the sale. You helped me, too, calling to let me help you find a house.”

“The house is cute, a little one-level brick rancher, perfect for me, and within walking distance to the campus. I think I’m going to really like it.” Isabell looked around at all the boxes piled in the room and sighed. “I’ll be glad when this move is past.”

“Are the kids, Frances and Daniel, still giving you a hard time about moving?” Judy asked.

“Yes,” she answered honestly. “Daniel’s coming around a little, but Frances is still angry at me. She feels like I’m running out on the family, has suggested I’m being selfish moving away from them and the grandchildren. She keeps saying, ‘What would Daddy think?’ trying to guilt me with the idea that he would disapprove.”

“Do you think Jimmy would disapprove? I hope I didn’t push you to make a move you shouldn’t. I was so excited earlier when you called to tell me you got the new job offer as director of the library at Furnam University right here in Greeneville where we live. I admit Norman and I are thrilled you’re going to live close to us again.”

“I really don’t think Jimmy would mind if he could offer an opinion,” Isabell replied. “I think he’d encourage me to do what I wanted to be happy. Besides, he has been gone almost three years now, and he knew Greeneville was originally my home.” She hesitated. “The children keep saying it will be such a long trip for me to come home for visits or for them to come to see me now. They keep saying they’ll hardly ever see me anymore.”

Judy laughed. “From your confidences, it’s not like you see much of them living there in Cincinnati right now.”

“That’s true,” she admitted. “Frances’ schedule as a nurse is often grueling and her husband Bill works long hours at the RV business his family owns.”

Judy jumped in to add, “And when they have time, they go camping or traveling somewhere with the kids and they never invite you along. It’s not much better with Daniel. I know Daniel is running his dad’s business now, Jimmy D’s, and that you see very little of him, his wife Patricia, or their kids.  Patricia’s family even has a cabin in the Smoky Mountains but they never invite you to go with them when they go there.” She paused. “I suppose I shouldn’t be critical, but none of  them have been there for you since Jimmy died as they should. It irks me after all you’ve done for them and for the grandkids, who now whine over having to take time to even come and visit you and sit hunkered over their phones when they do. It may sound ugly, but I think it serves them right for you to move away.”

“I’m not moving to get away from my family or punish them, Judy. The job is a wonderful opportunity. I would have been foolish not to consider it.”

“I know, and I probably shouldn’t have said those things. I just hate when children and grandchildren are so ungrateful and start counting it a duty-visit to go to see their parents or grandparents.”

Isabel sighed. “I will miss living near them, even if I don’t see them as often as I like, but I can drive up for long weekends now and then. It’s only a six-to-seven-hour drive. You’re blessed your children and grandchildren still live so close to you and Norman. Of course, Norman is a pastor, and the kids and grandkids go to your church. I’m sure that helps to guarantee you get to see them at least once a week.”

Judy giggled. “I am glad for that. I hope you’ll come to our church after you settle in. You know Norman and I would love that.”

“I plan to.” She glanced at her watch. “Right now, though, I’d better get back to work and get the rest of my packing done. I’m sure you have work to do, too. I’ll see you soon.”

Isabell knew she had some apprehensions of her own about moving back to South Carolina, too, but those concerns were her own to think about. And private ones. It had been almost twenty years since she and Jimmy left Greeneville, the children still in their early elementary years. Jimmy Daniel Mason, always Coach Jimmy D to his staff and students. had been an Assistant Football Coach at Furman before accepting an Assistant Coaching  position with more responsibility and better pay at the University of Cincinnati. It was a good step up.

Jimmy loved coaching football, but after a few years at UC, the coach he worked with moved on, and Jimmy decided on a change for himself. He bought a small shop on Calhoun right by the campus and opened a sporting goods store he called Jimmy D’s, and with his links to the university and the athletic department, the shop thrived, and Jimmy loved running his own business. Isabell felt sure he’d still be working, laughing and talking sports with his customers, if he hadn’t had a fatal heart attack. It was a shock to everyone. Their son Daniel, who’d been working to help run the store since graduating from college, moved into running the business, stepping into his father’s footsteps.

Isabell took an old family photo off the fireplace mantle to study it. It was a happy photo of the four of them … Jimmy, a big, broad-shouldered man with a huge warm smile for everyone, personable and easy-going. but smart and always a workaholic. Isabell had always been glad she had the library, her own world of books. The two of them had been so different. They even met in the library, an unlikely place, but Jimmy always went after what he wanted and he certainly pursued her—sweetly, too. In the picture Daniel, dark-haired, smart like his dad but more serious, had his arms draped over both their shoulders, while Frances, with her long dark hair, definitely a Daddy’s girl, leaned up against Jimmy, always eager to please her father. Isabell studied her own photo from that time, probably fifteen years ago. Her hair had been short and frosted then. It was a little longer now with a little more gray in the frosting. She’d been a pretty girl then and she knew she was still an attractive woman now. Just a little older.

Isabell walked over to the mirror to gaze at herself. How much had she changed in twenty years? She felt she had aged well; she’d taken good care of her health, walked a lot, and worked in the little flower garden behind their Tudor home. The house was a nice older home in a good neighborhood, not too far north from the campus and Jimmy’s business. They’d been happy there, but the house was full of almost too many memories now.

“It’s time to see what can come of old dreams,” she told herself. “If anything.”

The next month or two passed swiftly. Isabell unpacked and settled into her house and began to learn her way around town again, finding the closest grocery, the post office, establishing an account at the bank. Moving to a smaller home, she’d let extras go in Cincinnati before moving but there were still things to buy when you moved, shower curtains, light bulbs, a new mailbox as the old one looked a little grim. Judy and Norman came to help her with a lot of tasks around the house and in the yard. She visited their church, found she had a lot of old friends there, began to settle in and feel at home.

Next she settled into her new job at the library. She’d moved up over the years at the University of Cincinnati Library, gained some titles, but the job at Furnam as Director of the Library was definitely a step up. Even though she had worked at the library in Greeneville many years ago, much had changed. The library was a big pillared two story one with a lot of space and a large book collection. A major renovation had added nearly 65,000 square feet of new space and like all libraries, the technical services and media collections areas had grown. Her office was more impressive than her office in past, and she had worked hard over the last month to come to know all her staff and to integrate with strength and art into the college community.

Feeling confident in herself now, Isabell gazed out the second story window of the library to look across the lake. In Cincinnati, there was a small lake in the park near the campus, but here at Furnam the college centered around a beautiful lake, called Swan Lake. A walking trail circled the lake. Pavilions and benches sat scattered along its route where one could sit and enjoy looking across the water to the tall bell tower the college was famous for or toward the hills nearby. Scenically, the campus was stunning.

With the Fall Semester settled in now and her calendar clearer today, Isabell decided to walk around the lake trail and eat her lunch on one of the benches on the back side of the lake, known as the quieter side. The break would be a nice one and the colors were beginning to change around the campus, fall leaves drifting down from many of the old campus trees, splashing color on the ground along the trail.

She spotted her favorite bench ahead, empty with a few fall leaves scattered across it. She slowed, trying not to be disappointed to see it empty again. After all, it had been a long time since she’d shared the space on the bench with another. It was probably foolish to even remember those times. In truth, she hadn’t sat on this bench for twenty years. She’d always read that women were more foolishly prone than men to hold on to old memories, and despite her new position of prominence at Furnam, that feminine side of her must still linger on.

Sitting down on the bench, she looked across the lake with pleasure. What was it about sitting by a lake that was so soothing? As usual, the lakeside here across from all the main buildings was quiet. A biker occasionally rode by or someone walking their dog passed. But just as she remembered from long ago, this spot, with a big oak slightly shading the two green benches to either side of the tree, still offered a tranquil and restful place in the midst of a busy day.

She’d bought a small insulated lunch bag the other day, with a strap she could drape over her shoulder, nice to take on any walk and freeing up her hands. She sat it on the bench beside her now and dug out the chicken salad sandwich she’d made for herself before coming to work.

“I’ll bet that is a chicken salad sandwich,” a warm, deep voice said, startling her and instantly shattering her composure.

To calm herself, Isabell searched for the water bottle in her bag before turning her eyes to look up at the man. “Hello, Myron,” she said, steeling herself to act casual and professional, like she would, facing any colleague at the college.

“Hello, Isabell.” He turned and glanced at the second bench not far away. “Like you I came to eat lunch by the lake. I can sit at the other bench if you prefer or perhaps share this one with you if you don’t mind.”

His smile nearly took her breath away and the words reminded her so much of words he had spoken to her long ago. She moved over and patted the bench beside her. “Please do sit down, Myron. It is a treat to see you again after so many years.”

He settled on the bench beside her, beginning to get a sandwich out of the brown sack he carried.

Isabell sat, conscious of him beside her, noting how little he’d changed, still tall and well built, his hair, short beard, and mustache much more gray now, but his eyes still that warm brown with little crinkles around them when he smiled. He was a handsome man, intelligent, kind, sure of himself, easy to be with. So well-read. He taught history here at Furnam, mostly European world history classes, since he’d lived in France and the UK as a boy, traveled a lot around Europe with his parents. There was a touch of difference to his voice, while Isabell still had a Southern touch to her own voice. Those bits of culture and background tended to stay with one.

“I read you’d come to the campus to work, but I wasn’t sure you’d remember your old friend.,” he said, after a time. “It’s been a long time.”

“Almost twenty years, and you don’t forget old friends easily.”

“I’m glad for that,” he said, settling in to eat his lunch, crossing an ankle over his knee, easy and comfortable with himself. They had never needed to talk when they shared lunch together on this bench, although some days they talked away like two magpies, excited about something they’d seen or read or heard.

“You can come to know a person rather well sitting and sharing lunch most every day  with them on an old park bench,” he added after a time.

“Yes, you can,” she agreed.

“I admit I probed a little after reading in the campus news you’d come to take the open position as Director of the Library. You brought a stellar background to the campus, accomplished a lot in Cincinnati, won some awards, got some acclaim. And, of course, I personally can only applaud the choice, knowing you rather well.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I read also that you were still teaching before I came to interview. You, too, have received awards, published some fine papers, traveled abroad many summers taking students to sample culture in other countries. I saw you’d moved from Associate Professor to Full Professor. I am sure that is a plus for the History Department and the College. I remember, too, the students love you. Your classes are always full.”

“Thank you in return. It seems we have both checked each other out, typical of old friends, I think.” He paused a moment, his eyes meeting hers. “Did you hope to find I was no longer here when you got the opportunity to interview?”

“No,” she said softly, looking away from him. “I might not have come if I’d learned you were no longer here.”

He smiled at her then, reaching a hand across to touch her cheek. “You are even more beautiful than I remember,” he whispered. “I am overwhelmed.”

Isabell searched for words and then finally put a hand to her heart, fighting tears.

“Have you known sorrow?” he asked.

“Jimmy died three years ago, suddenly of a heart attack. You know I loved him.”

“I do, and I am sorry for the loss. Where are your children?”

“Still living and working in Cincinnati, not happy to see me move. But they had their lives and I needed to look to mine. You can’t live in the past.”

“No. Life is always there to be lived. Sometimes it sneaks up on us, and sometimes its opportunities don’t always come at the right timing.”

“Yes, I’ve seen that to be true.”

They ate their lunch then, just quiet, not talking. But the feeling of sitting by Myron again reached out to her, warming and soothing her, bringing healing down to her soul.

“I imagine you know, since I go to your brother’s church, that I never married.” He hesitated. “Did you ever tell them about…”

“No.” She interrupted. “I never told anyone. There was nothing to tell but that two colleagues, two friends, often met for lunch and shared their thoughts, their hearts, and lives on a park bench by the lake.”

He smiled at her. “A little slice of loveliness all our own.”

“Yes.” She glanced away.

“And then one day that lovely friend came to say she was moving away, her husband transferred, and we knew we might never see each other again. The man finally opened his heart out then to a happily married woman he could not have, and should not yearn for, but it would have felt false to him to let her go without letting her know what she had come to mean to him.”

“Yes, and the woman cried,” she added in a soft voice. “She had learned in a soft, gentle, unexpected way that you could love two people in your heart, even when committed to one.”

His eyes met hers then, holding her gaze. “Before they parted the man told her if life ever took an unexpected turn and left her free to love another, and if she thought he might fill that spot in her heart, to come back to this bench to look for him. Do you remember that, Isabell?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I also told you not to come unless that was so for you.”

“I remember, Myron, and yet I am here.”

He reached out and took her hand. “Isabell, I am trying to tell my heart to be still but it is rejoicing within. Will you come every day so that we can come to know each other more?”

“I will come.”

He leaned in to take her face in his hands and kiss her forehead. “I will soon invade your life if you do. You have stayed rich and full in my thoughts all these years, spoiled me for any other’s company at length. I hope your heart is as sure as mine.”

“You were my hope in coming,” she answered.

He traced a finger down her cheek. “You know I lost my first love long ago in Europe. Isn’t it sweet to know these two old friends will now have a second chance to experience all the wonder and joy of love—and without restraint or secrecy.”

She put a hand on his face. “Yes, but go slow, dear one, for the sake of others who don’t know our history.”

He draped an arm around her shoulder and sighed. “Taking one’s time is a sweet pleasure of its own, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she answered, leaning her head on his shoulder and knowing the big risk and move she’d made was absolutely the right one.

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