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Mike left for work, Emily and Bruno bolted past her, and Katie sipped her coffee and reflexively reminisced over how it had all begun. This happened sometimes, during her rare (semi) quiet moments.
There were so many layers to the story of her family, of how it had grown to this point. The memories of them – none of them definitively a standalone point she could say “had been the start” on its own, but all identifiably independent to each other – gently played out in the back of her mind, as she kept an eye on the children and prepared for her own workday.
She and Mike had connected digitally, before that had been a mainstream thing, chatting within the gentler confines of AIM before deciding to finally meet in person. They had Doug to thank for that, who had bridged the gap as someone who had known them each “in real life.”
“I think you’ll like him,” Doug had said.
“I don’t know,” she’d replied. But it had seemed worth the shot.
Meeting someone online at that time, perhaps as it was still now, was an idea both less comfortable and more comfortable than meeting in some other random way. She could be herself when typing, and talk to him, but then also log off and be right back in her normal, predictable life.
Life had other, less-predictable ideas beyond this early connection with him, though, as it will do. Many more ideas, in fact.
They ultimately decided to meet for a movie at the Showcase in Warwick.
Again, it had been a somewhat different time than it was now. Back then, you usually could meet at the theater around six or seven and choose between a few movies that were starting soon.
That didn’t happen that evening. They missed every start time, of every movie they could possibly go see. Undeterred however, Katie and Mike decided to sit in his car for a while and talk.
He was very proud of his car, a red ‘94 Camaro with an open-air T-top. Katie wasn’t a fan of it at the onset, but she sensed his pride and didn’t quite care enough to make an issue out of it, especially at that early point in their nascent relationship.
And then they talked beyond the length of most movies.
Right there in the parking lot, in that questionable red sports car.
People came and went at long intervals, spilling out of the cinema, blinking in the light of the parking lot and chattering about whatever movie they’d seen; or else ambling inside in their small groups, readying with anticipation for whatever midnight show they were about to catch, that had been too late an option for Mike and Katie.
Most of these comings-and-going went unnoticed by the pair, as they spoke for what must have been over three hours.
It was a greater blossoming of the talks they had shared online, made that much more electric by the atypical but perfect circumstance of the missed movie, the quick comfort they they felt with one another, and the early signs of shared hopes and dreams for the future.
It was perhaps too quick a comfort even, given what would transpire in the near and middle term. Katie had perhaps not been quite ready for it.
When their time was up for that night, and they were getting out of his car, Mike moved in quickly and kissed her. She had liked it, and kissed back, but later, when alone again, it had seemed too fast to her. Katie declined to respond to his texts the next day, but continued to think about him even as their break in communication stretched further.
He hadn’t pushed too much after her silence, which did not go unnoticed by Katie, despite her commitment to caution. She hadn’t decided to stay silent, so much that she needed a pause. Big feelings will do that, demanding their due respect in matters of time and space, as she well knew from watching her children grow up, and through her work with other tiny humans.
She would learn later that the intermission had been difficult for Mike, who in his great and sincere interest had marked her coming birthday off in his memory, despite his dwindling hopes of a relationship. Their date had felt undeniably special to him, and it was this belief he clung to when he called that October 5th, 2003, to wish her a happy birthday.
Looking back now, that…as they say…had been it.
So began her subsequent chapters in life, first as a partner, eventually as a mother to their beautiful children.
Soon her workday would begin, with even more children to care for and watch over. Gone were the days of even pretending it would be possible to just drive to a movie theater, and wait around for something to watch.
Her phone pinged. It was Mike.
“Love you, babe.”
Katie smiled.
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This story was commissioned by Mike, for Katie. It was written by Michael DiBiasio-Ornelas, via Last Site Press. To order your own Custom Short Story, click here.