Once upon a time a woman sat alone in her apartment, sipping wine, reading a book, nursing a broken heart. She heard a knock on her door.
“Who can that be?” she wondered. “No one buzzed to be let in the building. I don’t know any of my neighbors, except the little old lady next door. Maybe it’s her.”
She opened the door and looked straight into the friendliest, freshest eyes she’d ever seen on a man. Well, more of a boy, really. Curly, messy hair, a big smile to match the eyes, an empty bowl held in his hands.
Guy’s hair was curlier, and I never saw him wear sun glasses. Otherwise…….
That was you, Guy. Twenty-year-old you. Facing 28-year-old me for the first time. I wonder how scared you were, that moment. Actually asking me for some sugar. That was the best ruse you could come up with to meet me.
Decades later you told me that you and your next-door-neighbor bet on who would meet me first. You’d watch for me from the living room window of your apartment. The best days were when I’d park my car right
underneath the window. It would be a hot Saturday afternoon and I’d be wearing my short cut-off jeans and a scooped-neck tank top.
This is how you described it: “If you parked in the absolutely perfect spot, we’d get a glimpse of cleavage as you got out of the car. Your long hair would shine in the sun as the breeze caught it. I got all tangled up in that hair of yours.”
You made me sound like Cheryl Tiegs in a shampoo commercial. How sweet. I’ve never heard myself described this way before.
- The real Cheryl Tiegs. How nice that this is how Guy saw me.
I can’t think of how you went from returning my sugar into riding our bikes around the park, into going to a movie together, into getting me into bed.But you did. Good-hearted, fun-loving guy that you are, you charmed me right into my bedroom.
I know you remember that first night, that long and sleepless night filled with laughter. I don’t think I’d smiled in months. Been too busy shedding tears from my first broken heart. Then along you came, my playful, eager puppy dog who convulsed me with laughter.You say I was sexy back then. That’s because I laughed at your jokes. Men find women who laugh at their jokes sexy.
You share images you carry around in your head, moments I’ve forgotten – well, you’re still eight years younger than I am. Your memory hasn’t turned into a sieve. You tell me about us trudging up to the grocery store in a blizzard, the whole city stopped in its tracks because of the snow. You have a picture of me in your mind, bending over a camp fire, my hair dangling close to the fire.
When I met the man of my dreams, the man I would marry, it was time to redefine you and me. Which we did.
You kept showing up at the door, but for other reasons. Do you remember the time you borrowed our car? Bet you’ve forgotten that one. You had a hot date and a dead car, so we loaned you ours.
After you drove off, my husband, Alan, turned to me and said, “I can’t believe I just handed over my car keys to your old boyfriend. Have we adopted him?”
Remember showing up on my doorstep 10 years ago with Jennie in tow? You and your wife were back in town for a visit. This is a moment I picture clearly; the two of you seated on the couch in my living room, with you telling Jennie the story of how we met. You told her the whole thing; you waiting at your window to see me, you knocking on my door to borrow sugar, etc., etc. The whole saga.
Bless Jennie’s heart, she smiled through it all. Talk about a calm, confidant woman. Hats off to Jennie.
Then came the time you called when we were both in our 50’s. “Hi, blondie,” you said. “Just calling to check up on you.”
That’s when I told you my dream marriage was over. What a great friend you’ve been. I love listening to the sound of your voice in my ear, so close, so intimate, so much my Guy, that healing sound once again soothing a broken heart. Filling me again with laughter.
You were my toy boy. That’s what younger men in relations with older women were called back then. Before the days of older women as cougars, young men were toy boys.
Thanks for being the best toy boy.
Hey thanks for sharing your stories Georgia. They’re entertaining to read!
Hi Karl Friederich: Thanks to you for reading.
Georgia,
Just wanted you to know that I love being on this journey with you. This story is sweet, sweet, sweet.
tx,
Mike
Hi Mike: Thanks for the compliment. The story isn’t quite finished, yet…..
Georgia,
Wham! What just happened? What did you just do to me? Please explain.
I’m actually sitting here sobbing like a baby and I don’t really know why. It just hit me like I walked into a low ceiling. I’m having the similar – but vastly stronger – reaction to that of hearing certain old Beetle songs from their early years of innocence. Songs that take me back… way back, to when life was so simple and energy was boundless. To when time was forever and memories were just beginning. So much the core of my essence.
Somehow your words, so poignantly written, reached deep into my past and tugged at the tethers of some perfect yesterdays. The Way We Were. Doctor Zhivago. Springsteen’s Glory Days. Beautiful and yet haunting at the same time because it reminds me of my pending mortality and the sad thought that perhaps, just perhaps, my best days are all behind me now.
Words can be so powerful, and conjure such unexpected emotions. Superb writing, Georgia! This one caught me entirely by surprise.
Please (sniff, sniff) don’t let it happen again. – BT
Hi Boy Toy: While I can’t promise anything, I do doubt your best days are behind you. However, I can’t even promise to not make you cry again.
Greetings Georgia,
What a treat! Once again you have transported me to the scene. So vivid. Your Boy Toy experience sits so well in your memory. To reconnect and relive your memories with your boy toy is a wonderful gift. No pain here, only happy images from a time long ago. I noticed you alerted Mike there is more to come, can’t wait.
Note to Boy Toy’s comment above: Thanks for sharing your reaction to the story. Your words did take me back “to when time was forever and memories were just beginning.” I do so enjoy your comments, please keep them coming.
BF
Humm. I had one like that once–he was my sunshine. The relationship lasted 12 years and was probably the best relationship of my life. All I can say is, well, make up your own mind. Oh yes, we are still in touch.
Hi Elaine: Aren’t we lucky women?
You hit this one Georgia. When it works, isn’t it just the best! What fond memories it brings back. I remember my late teens and early 20’s. Wasn’t Cougar back then, it was “Nice Mommy”. Only my roommate would remember that.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could always remember the good times we had and the good things that existed. I don’t quite understand why people remember the bad but not the good. Almost everyone I know is doing the best they can with the cards they were dealt.
Anyway, back to my memories. I’ll be worthless at work for a day.
Hi Jimmy: “Nice Mommy?” Now, that must be quite a story. Will you share it some day?
Very nice writing! You’ve inspired me to try putting more than the usual stuff into my writing…but how long did it take for you to craft each of these stories? Once I get sucked into one, hours and days can go by before I let go of the keyboard.
Well, it’s 1:30 am and I’ve spent the last hour reading all your stories … entranced … that’s all I can say! I’m hooked! Thanks for your candid, delightful vulnerability …. I’m subscribing!
Hi Itty Bitty Boomer: Thanks for your encouragement. Guess I’ll have to keep at this for a while longer.