Doors Close, Windows Open

One Step Forward, Three Steps Back

"Life is a handful of short stories, pretending to be a novel."

I'm forty-one, divorced, childless, and broke. Oh – and did I mention? I live with my mom.

But that's not what I said. Instead, my lips stretched into their best sorority-girl smile as I answered,

"I'm just taking a stroll down memory lane, here at Williamston's U. It's just so lovely, with the renovations." My rarely used southern drawl hopped on the wagon with my confection smile. The accent tended to creep in when I needed a dab of social lubricant to ease a chafing interaction.

Of all the people I could run into, Bitsy Parker was near bottom of my list. Not dead last, of course. That spot was reserved for my ex-husband Craig. Unlike yours truly, neither Bitsy's size nor hair had changed. She was still a petite size four and still wore her straight auburn hair parted down the left side with the ends curving just below her jawbone, every strand in place. She looked as she had on graduation day, minus the cap and gown. I sucked in my gut and pulled up taller. Hopefully those sprightly sprigs of gray wire that were muscling their way into my otherwise brown hair were behaving themselves.

"Why Amanda Peterson," she said, using my full name, perhaps to show that she hadn't forgotten me. A rapid glance at my ring-less left hand must have signaled she could address me by my maiden name.

"Just look at you. I do declare-you haven't aged a bit," she said with her own saccharin sweet voice. "How long's it been, anyway?"

"Since graduation, I guess. But Bitsy – you're too kind. If anyone's not aged, it's you," I answered.

"Oh gracious me, you're a terrible liar. And I go by Elisabeth now. Well, aren't you one to talk. Still so pretty with those sparkly blue eyes. And not a wrinkle on you. Why, who'd ever guess you'd graduated college twenty years ago?"

"My goodness, who's the terrible liar now," I answered. Her immaculate French manicure, tailored suit, and three-or-so carat brilliant cut diamond made it clear that in my khaki shorts, Fruit-of-the Loom T-shirt, and sandals there was no chance of winning in game of one-up-wo-manship. Mystery was my only ace. Recognizing the need to re-direct, I asked,

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, that's a story. I moved to Dallas after graduation. A few years later, I met and married Jake.  We moved to Austin six years ago, with my his promotion. He's CFO for a tech company on the north side. We have a nine-year old daughter going on sixteen, if you know what I mean!" She dropped her head to the side, winked a knowing smile and paused, waiting for me to take the bait. So much for bad things happening to bad people. Karma my ass, I thought, offering up a bland "Uh-huh." With another fleeting look at my bare ring finger, she cleared her throat and continued.

"Uh, yes well. Do you remember Judy Templeton?"

"Sure," I answered, "she was our admissions counselor."

"Judy retired five years ago. I interviewed and got the job. I think being an alumna helped. I've been working here at the University as an admissions counselor since. We have house on Lake Travis. The view is lovely. You'll have to come visit. But enough about me. Tell me about you!" Her questions sounded more like a command, "Are you still living in Chicago?"

"No." Another long silence.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, where are you living these days?"

"Burnington."

"Oh, uh-huh – I see.  So you're visiting?"

Her reddish-brown tresses bobbed in cadence with vigorous head nods. Of course, she didn't see at all. How could she? Folks didn't move from Chicago back to a small town like Burnington without some juicy ripe-for-gossip reason. The late summer sun rising in the eastern horizon reflected in golden flickers on auburn tresses, surrounding her china-doll face with a soft ginger halo making her look almost saintly. Almost.  Although she was curious, good breeding and excellent manners prevented her from asking too much.