Reunion

Reunion Part 4

 I arrive at the coffee shop right on time. Andy is already there, leaning against the building near the front door looking at his phone.

I take the opportunity to scan him from head to toe. He is wearing a snug-fitting gray t-shirt that hugs his broad shoulders and trim waist. His dark jeans hang comfortably on his narrow hips. He is muscular, but not overly so, not like some jock who spends all day in the gym. His brown hair is rumpled but stylish. He looks completely at ease with himself.

I attempt to exude that same ease and am sure I'm failing. I chose a sleeveless white blouse and wide-leg linen pants for today. Comfortable but polished. I catch my reflection in a shop window and am slightly surprised to see that I'm not 18. This whole situation is messing with my head. Instead of a gangly teenager, I see a confident, put-together woman. At least my inner turmoil isn't as evident to the world as I had feared.

As I approach, Andy looks up and smiles with the same warmth that did me in so many years ago and slips his phone into his pocket.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting," I say with a smile.

"Not at all." He pulls me into a hug. I force myself to let go after the appropriate length of time. I need to be careful. He opens the door for us to go inside.

It's a cute place with exposed brick walls featuring local art and giant windows letting in the Pennsylvanian summer sun. We order our drinks and settle in at a corner table. The aroma of freshly ground coffee fills the space. I inhale deeply and sigh happily.

"Still a coffee drinker, I take it?" Andy smiles at me and winks.

"Some things never change." I smile in return. A server arrives with our drinks. The foam on my latte looks like a heart.

Just friends.

Just friends.

"I'm so glad you were able to meet today," he starts. "The reunion was fun, but I really wanted to be able to talk with you without all the disruptions." I nod in agreement. "So..."

"So..." We both laugh nervously.

"How long have you been back in town?" he asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I guess it has been 5 years now." I run my hand through my hair. Has it really been that long? "My mom had a health issue and I moved home to help. She's better now," I add quickly seeing the concerned look on Andy's face. "It has been good to be home...but challenging too."

"Wow. You moved back to help? That's amazing." A look I can't place flits across his features.

"Well, you know...I wasn't tied down anywhere, so I could." I shrug. "What about your parents? How are they?"

"It's just my dad now. Mom passed almost 10 years ago." His smile turns wistful.

"I'm so sorry." My heart aches that he has suffered loss.

"Thanks. It was difficult. I was so busy getting things started in California at the time." That look on his face is back. There's a hardness to his eyes as he glances out the window. "I finally convinced my dad to move to California with me. He's retired now and has been on his own for too long. An apartment opened up in my building, so I got it for him. I'm taking this week to wrap up packing, move bank accounts, get his house ready for market...all of that stuff."

"You're moving him into his own place, not yours? How is he handling that?" I ask, surprised. That would not go over well with my parents.

"As you'd expect," he says with a chuckle. "Old country."

"Old country." I nod knowingly and clink my coffee mug with his in a toast. Our immigrant parents were always a source of connection for us. His from Russia, mine from Greece. Different countries, same mindset.

"Tell me more about your work, it sounds fascinating." Listening to Andy talk passionately about science was always one of my favorite things. I am not disappointed. He launches into explanations of agricultural technology and the future of vertical farming, gesturing energetically with his large hands. I sit back and enjoy how his entire face lights up. His eyes sparkle. He buzzes with energy and charm. It's no wonder he has been so successful. Who wouldn't invest in this charismatic genius?

Far too soon he turns the conversation on me. "I'm talking way too much," he says with a sheepish smile. His eyes crinkle in the most adorable way. "I'd love to hear more about your work." He rests his chin in his hand and I am his sole focus. This is my second favorite Andy mode. He was always such a good listener. I feel like the most important person on the planet when his attention is on me.

"It's an interesting space to be in," I begin. "Sometimes I wish I was out there on the front lines working for women's rights with the NGOs I contract with, but I remind myself that my contribution is valuable too." Andy smiles encouragingly and I continue.

Our conversation feels effortless. It always has. We swap work and life stories and laugh easily. I'm surprised to find I've finished my coffee.

"A lot has happened since high school." He looks down into his empty mug, contemplatively. "I really regret not staying in touch after graduation," he says quietly.

"It's understandable we didn't. We were all setting off to college in different places. It needed to be that way. It was a different time."

"I was a fool." He looks up at me and I avert my gaze. I don't want him to see the hurt I've been denying all these years.

"No, you weren't. It was fine. I didn't try to stay in touch either." I fiddle with my napkin unable to meet his eyes when suddenly his hand covers mine, stilling it.

"Look at me," he pleads softly. I allow my gaze to travel up from his large hand to his warm chocolate brown eyes. He looks so sad. "I was a fool." His gaze pins me to my chair. He always seemed able to see into my soul. I swallow nervously.

"What do you mean?" I can barely whisper. His hand still covers mine and I don't dare move it.

"I was scared. I liked you so much, but I didn't want to risk our friendship. And then with you staying on the east coast and me heading to the west, I thought it was safer to just move on. Start over." He finishes, shoulders deflating with a sigh.

"You liked me?" I ask quietly, incredulous. "I liked you."

"You did?" His face scrunches in confusion. It's such an adorably boyish expression. My heart melts. "But you never said anything."

"Oh, Andy," I chuckle. "I thought I made it obvious, but I was scared of ruining things too, so I didn't press the issue." We both smile shyly. He lifts his hand from mine and lays it palm up on the table. An invitation. I slide my hand into his. His palm is large and warm, it engulfs my own. My heart flutters.

Besides Friday night, this is the most physical contact we've ever had. He strokes my knuckles with his thumb and the feeling is making me light-headed. He watches our hands together, then lifts his gaze to mine.

"My dad would love to see you. Do you have time to come by the house?" He asks quietly.

"Of course." Reluctantly our hands slip apart as we push our chairs back to stand and gather our things. I retrieve my purse while Andy places our used dishes on the counter. I turn towards the door and he holds his hand out to me, a tentative smile on his face. I take it and interlock my fingers with his. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. He smiles down at me and squeezes my hand as we make our way to the street.