Don't Look Back (6 page)

“I love you, darling, you’re absolutely the best friend in the world.” Diana looks at me, misty eyed, her emotions heightened by her tipsiness. “I don’t know what I'd do without you, Katie.” She sniffles.

Luckily, Terry, sensing his wife’s fragile emotional state, jumps in and redirects her attention before the flood of tears starts. “Hey, everyone, it's time for birthday cake. Kate? Matt? Won’t you join us?"

“About bloody time.” Diana is reenergized by the thought of birthday cake, and grabbing Terry’s hand, she marches him off toward the beautiful two-tiered cake as the DJ announces that everyone will be singing “Happy Birthday” momentarily.

“Shall we?" Matthew extends his hand to me. Without even questioning it, I slip my hand into his as if in a trance, our fingers naturally interlocking. The act is so innocent, yet so sensual. For those brief moments as we walk across the room, I feel like everything fits: Our hands blend seamlessly, our bodies walk to the same rhythm, like two long lost halves reunited. I feel like I am witnessing an insight into what our lives could have been in some parallel universe. As we join the others, Matthew releases my hand, and everyone starts to squeeze in toward the corner where Diana is standing with Terry under
a purple arch of balloons.

Their daughter, Annie, is eagerly awaiting the lighting of the candles, probably hoping to help blow all forty of them out. Matthew is behind me, not quite touching me, but close enough that I can still smell his cologne. I am dumbfounded by how much he is affecting me. I have spent the majority of the last twenty-something years trying to forget him, dismissing what we had shared as simply adolescent love, putting his memory to rest. Yet here he is. I can feel the pull of his body, and somehow I know that if I take one step back I will mold perfectly into his chest and hips. My skin shivers with goose bumps, and chills surge up my spine and into my head, making my hair stand on edge. I remember his lips, his taste, how he would rub his perfect nose against mine, how he would nibble my earlobe, how we would kiss for hours until our lips were swollen. Suddenly I feel him whisper in my ear; his scent swirls around me like a fog.

“You’re supposed to be singing!”

I gasp, realizing we are halfway through the song. I blush, chiming in at the last second.

“Happy birthday, dear Diana, happy birthday to you.”

The entire hall finishes the big finale as the birthday girl attempts to blow out her candles; with help from Annie, she manages to extinguish them all. Diana fumbles for a chair so she can sit and regain some composure as the top tier of the cake is cut and served to guests along with cupcakes.

My jet lag is beginning to reappear, although alcohol and Matthew aren’t helping.

Matthew is talking to Terry behind me, so I head over to Diana, who is sitting with Annie enjoying a piece of birthday cake. Helping myself to a piece, I join them and cut into the dark cake with a fork.

“Oh. My. Gosh. This is the most amazing cake ever, Di.” My mouth melts around this delicious, moist chocolate cake, possibly the best cake I have ever tasted. It dissolves into my mouth, the rich flavor of cocoa and fudge overwhelming my taste buds and making me crave an enormous ice cold glass of milk.

“I know, Terry’s mum baked it. She calls it Chocolate Heavenly Cake. Its chocolate cake, chocolate frosting and chocolate filing ... bloody amazing! You won’t find this in America!” She winks at me, stuffing her last forkful in her mouth and sucking the utensil clean.

“So?" Di puts her fork down on the plate, wiping her lips with a napkin as she gets serious on me. “What’s Sully saying? I can’t believe he’s here, Katie. Terry didn’t say a thing about it to me; I guess he wanted it to be a surprise! Are you okay?”

Inhaling deeply, I glance across the room toward Matthew. “I’m fine, and nothing much has been said. He hasn’t been here long, so we barely chatted more than a few minutes before you guys came over.” I lean in closer to her. “Diana, his dad passed away, that why he's here, and he’s headed home on Tuesday. I felt awful when he told me that. I didn’t know what to say.” I shake my head, still in shock that he is here. “Other than that, we haven't said more than a few words to each other. I would love to sit and talk to him, but it's difficult.” I play with my cake. “You know what I mean. It was so
long ago, and he never wrote, and now we both have different lives. Fate stepped in. And does it matter anymore?” I look sadly at my friend, and she nods in silent understanding.

Taking my hand and squeezing it, Diana replies, “Katie, I know that you’ve longed for the opportunity to say things to him. Please don't let that chance pass you by. There’s a reason you both ended up here tonight. No one planned this. This ... is fate.” Diana releases my hand and winks at me. “I love you, Katie, and I’m so fortunate to have a best friend who flew around the world to be here for my birthday party. Thank you for this.” Tears fill her big brown eyes. Once again she throws her arms around me, and this time we hug tightly. “Don’t miss this chance to say the things you need to say. I think he needs it as much as you,” she whispers and kisses my cheek.

CHAPTER 7

Against The Odds

Somehow I manage to keep up with Di and Jenny on the dance floor for most of the night once I discard my heels and spend the rest of the time barefoot. My jet lag gives me the sensation of being on a cruise ship, rising and falling on giant waves, so eventually, after a few too many glasses of wine, I find myself feeling lightheaded and woozy and needing to sit once again.

I haven't spoken to Matthew any more; last I saw him, he was sitting at a table with Terry, Joe, and a couple of old friends from school. They all appeared to be having a good time, laughing and putting a few beers away, obviously catching up on many years apart. We caught eyes a couple times while I was dancing, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking, his
expression blank and unreadable. I have so many questions to ask him. Where does he live? I am curious about his wife, his kids, and what he ended up doing with his life; in truth, the questions are endless. I have tried a couple of times over the years to track him down. Every once in a while my curiosity gets the better of me, but I was never able to locate any information about him. Matthew Sullivan is undetectable in a world where we have information at our fingertips.

Over the course of the evening, I calculate that it has been twenty-two years, almost to the day, since we last saw each other in Hayloft Alley. The memory comes back as is if were yesterday. Each time I blink, I see him lying in bed, asleep, tousled up and naked in the sheets, while I creep out in the middle of the night. Allowing myself to recall that night releases a lethal combination of emotions both joyful and painful, and I struggle to keep my feelings in check, the alcohol and exhaustion only complicating things.

It’s probably for the best that Matthew is keeping his distance; I’m a fool if I think I have any control over my feelings when it comes to him. My body’s betrayal tonight has made it clear that I’m walking in my own “no trespassing” zone. I can’t wait for Matthew to disappear back to Australia and leave me alone. He evidently is happy with how his life has turned out, and besides the odd stare here and there, he hasn’t shown any particular interest in me. Maybe some polite manners. As much as it hurts to admit it, Matthew doesn’t appear to find me remotely attractive, and what we once shared doesn’t seem to have any significant meaning to
him. The realization of this is physically painful.

As the evening draws to an end, the DJ closes with a slow dance, and I am doing my best to squeeze my poor feet back into my heels so I can walk to the hotel after I say my farewells. I am comfortably seated back at the bar, this time with a glass of water, calming my emotions. Overall, I am pleased that I made the journey.

“This is the last song of the night, ladies and gents. We hope you’ve had a lovely time. Happy birthday, Diana,” the DJ says, making his final announcement.

A few cheers and whistles come from the crowd as the lights simmer down, and I hear the beginnings of Phil Collins’s “Against All Odds” over the speakers. Diana and Terry are wrapped in each other’s arms on the dance floor in a lover’s embrace, swaying to the beat of the music. Her parents join in next to them doing classic waltz steps, and other couples are drawn to the dance floor.

“May I have this dance?” Matthew’s voice is calm, but he startles me; my heart skips a beat, and resting butterflies inside me flutter their wings with excitement.

“Absolutely,” I reply coolly and take his hand, once again mesmerized as he leads me to the dance floor to join the other couples.

I haven’t slow danced since my wedding—my husband, Dave, doesn't dance—and for a split second I wonder if I have forgotten how. Can one forget? But as Matthew wraps his arms around me, gently resting his palms against my lower back, pulling me into his circle, my concerns dissipate, and
my hands intuitively come up and rest upon his shoulders.

As our bodies stand against each other, I am overcome with déjà vu. We slowly sway in time to the beat, only an inch or so between us, toe to toe, the fabric of our clothing touching. I feel his breath against my temple as my face rests close to the crook of his neck, where I can breathe him in. This feels so good, and I am reminded about how much I miss slow dancing and how sensual it can be.

How many times had Matthew and I danced at the school discos back when we were clumsy kids? This was the best part of the night back then. The lights went off, the slow song came on, and we would get wrapped up in the rhythm of the music and each other. Madly, clumsily kissing and trying to slow dance. Oh, to go back and be a kid again! Then that time at the dance club, being kissed by him after being gone for so long, then again at his place, when … now, that was a completely different experience, I recall. Matthew was not a clumsy kid anymore; he was a man, with gentle hands and skilled lips.

The song’s drum solo diverts my thoughts as he pulls me closer to him. Our hips softly touch, and his hand applies gentle pressure against my lower back, his face leaning into my hair. I stretch my hand across his shoulders, feeling the taut muscles under his jacket as his shoulders rise and fall with his deep breaths. We are wrapped up tightly in each other, our bodies blended and in sync with the rhythm. Is he recalling the same memories?

I savor every beat, each step, closing my eyes as I consume and absorb this experience. The song
starts to fade; only the final notes of the piano linger, and there is nothing I can do. I cannot stop time and stay here in this moment, wrapped in this man’s arms, a place where I feel so inexplicably complete and at home. I sense a ridiculous level of comfort with a man who is a stranger to me. We have not seen each other for twenty-two years; we were practically kids then. These feelings are the memories of a love struck teenager. Our story ended a long time ago, and life moved on. Fairy tales do not exist, and happily ever after is only in movies. He didn’t love me, at least not enough, and for whatever reason, he packed up and left for Australia, never to think of me again. Obviously, my jet lag is allowing me to get carried away by my emotions and lose touch with the real world. I need to gather my senses and get a grip.

The lights flicker on, our bodies separate, our eyes meet, and although we smile at each other, a silent mutual sadness is exchanged. I see a glimpse of something in his eyes, but I can’t interpret it.

“Thank you,” I say in a barely audible whisper, and I squeeze his hand. He will never know how much this dance has meant to me.

The moment is shattered as people start to say goodbye and the room is filled with commotion. Terry is helping Diana into her jacket; fortunately, Annie left earlier with Terry’s mum, so he is able to focus all his attention on her. Diana is looking intoxicated, possibly on the verge of passing out. No doubt when I pop in to see her tomorrow, she will be nursing a severe hangover.

Suddenly, Jenny catches me from behind and wraps her arms around my waist. “Darling, it’s
marvelous seeing you again, I can’t believe you pulled it off!” Jenny is vibrant and still flowing with energy. Spinning me around, she wraps me up in a big hug and kisses me on both cheeks. “Hopefully, I'll be popping over to you again soon in California. Send lots of love to Dave and Allie.” She winks at me with a smirk.

“Bye, Matt, it’s been lovely to see you, too.” She leans in and gives him a peck on the cheek. “Toodles!” With a wave of her hand, she sweeps out the door with her entourage of friends following behind her.

“I'm going to say goodbye to Joe,” Matthew says, motioning toward Terry’s brother, who is flirting desperately with one of Diana’s coworkers. She looks like she is only interested in going home—alone. “Please, don't leave yet.”

“Okay, I'll pop over and say goodbye to Diana’s parents,” I reply, trying to calm the butterflies in my tummy again.

After saying farewell to Tom and Sue McFarren, I spot Matthew and Joe in conversation at the bar, so I decide to wait outside. I catch Terry as he starts settling Diana into the car. He is patiently situating her in the front seat, her head flopping and eyes closed, as he belts her in tenderly, ensuring her safety. Closing the car door, Terry turns to me, smiling.

“Thanks for coming tonight, Katie, it meant the world to Di.” Looking behind me, he continues, “Ah, I think someone's waiting to talk to you.” I look over my shoulder and see Matthew coming out of the pub. “Don’t stay up too late.” Terry winks at me and drops a quick peck on my cheek.

I respond to his smart remark with a silent “Ha, ha, ha” while my back is still facing Matthew. Terry passes me, walking to meet his old friend.

“Matt, have a safe journey home to Oz, my friend. Thank you for coming; it was great to see you.” Terry takes his friend’s hand in his and shakes it vigorously. “Take care of yourself, mate.”

“Take care, Terry, and give Di a kiss goodbye tomorrow when she wakes up,” Matthew replies playfully.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow about noon,” I add, reminding Terry that I will be at their house for lunch. “Drive safe,” I call after him. With a big smile and a wave he gets into the driver’s seat and backs out, my precious best friend passed out in the passenger seat.