I was window-shopping in a small town on Cape Cod when I heard, “Sarah, is that you?” I turned and was unexpectedly face-to-face with an old classmate of mine from almost three decades ago. “Jeremy?” My face must have looked flabbergasted. “Yeah, I almost didn’t recognize you, it’s been so long! But your long red hair gave you away,” he inched closer, “What are you doing here?” “I’m on vacation. I live here for a month ev...

June 29th, 2010 JAY I don’t know what the fuck I was doing back here. Virginia was the last place I ever wanted travel to, yet here I was, back in its clutches. I felt like a prisoner here as soon as I crossed the state border. Those trees were like jaws closing in on me. The closer I got to that house, the more claustrophobic I became. Mom always invited me to the house during the holidays, but I didn’t want to be anywhe...

Ending a loving relationship, particularly for the second time, is more complicated than disconnecting a phone call. Over the previous thirty-plus years, memories of Gaynor had frequently popped into my mind. Something or somewhere - a smell, a sight, a song - triggered recollections. But now, this second time around, I couldn’t get through even one single day without thinking about her. Maybe it was because it was all to...

We sat in Gaynor’s lounge but not in the usual chairs in the bay window. This time, Gaynor was stretched out on the four-seater leather couch, her back resting against a cushion and her bare feet in my lap. I was in my all-black golf attire and Gaynor was wrapped in a white cotton bathrobe, her legs bare from below the knees. She held a mug of steaming coffee in both hands, gently blowing over the rim, and I balanced my ‘...

The place Gaynor selected for our late lunch was only a few minutes drive away, a quaint country inn with thatched-roof, low black beams, leaded windows and highly-polished hardwood flooring. Prints of hunting scenes, highlighting red coats and dappled dogs, adorned the walls and the stoutly-padded seats made wooden chairs surprisingly comfortable. A few customers still lingered over their meals or drinks and some of them...

Traffic was light that Friday evening and I made good time. It was 7:01 when I parked the car in the garage and switched off the engine. I removed the phone from my pocket, preparing to text Gaynor, when it beep-beeped. The words on the screen told me: 1 message from Gaynor. I opened it and read: Just to let you know I’ve sent an email xx I hit the reply button and sent:  Got here this minute. No problems. Will read mail...

Thursday night I hardly slept. I was like a child on Christmas Eve, excited and desperate for morning to arrive so that I could open my gifts. But I wasn’t a child. I was less than a month from my fifty-eighth birthday and my special present was a meeting with Gaynor. I lay quite still for most of the night but my mind restlessly darted from one memory to another: some from years back, others just snippets from our phone...

I arrived home only minutes before Veronica, and I helped unload the shopping bags from her car and carried them through to the kitchen where the kettle was already boiling. I made tea for Veronica and a mug of instant coffee for myself. Leaving Veronica to put away the groceries, I went out on to the patio. I was greeted by the sun peeping over the fringe of a cloud. It was pleasantly warm and when Veronica joined me, ca...

It had been another warm Tuesday and I’d played a reasonable round of golf, followed by a steak meal in the clubhouse. The company was good and the conversation, as usual, light. Occasionally, politics and finances reared their ugly cantankerous heads but, generally, we steered away from contentious topics. Our ingredients were mainly golf, other sports, sex and jokes. Never anything really personal. My old friend Mick wa...