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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Character Based
- Published: 12/23/2020
The Present
Born 1948, F, from Epping. Essex, United Kingdom.jpeg)
The Present
By Kristin Dockar
Walking through Harrod’s Knightsbridge store at Christmas time is like walking through a fairy land. Decorations are sumptuous, lights twinkle and glitter and the food halls are filled with the scents of Christmas: nutmeg, cinnamon, lemon, and cloves.
But today, none of those sights and sounds helped Rosie feel one bit festive. She had come up to London just to escape the drudge her life had become. As she had walked through those famous doors, a brass band was playing Christmas carols but even these joyful sounds failed to help her mood. She wondered why she had bothered to come.
She was a good-looking woman, but tiredness was written across her face. She felt the permanent lethargy that had become the norm for her and wondered where her sense of fun and excitement had gone. She had always loved Christmas but not today.
Half-heartedly she bought some expensive cheeses, a bottle of Champagne, a bottle of Cognac and a box of very expensive chocolates.
As she rushed through the food hall irritated by being among so many cheerful people, she felt someone touch her shoulder. She turned round. Facing her and grinning was a middle-aged man she recognised but didn’t quite believe she was seeing.
‘Rosie. Remember me. David Hurley. How amazing to see you’?
Rosie stood stock still and gazed in disbelief.
‘David. It must be over thirty years.
‘Summer of 1981’ he replied, ‘remember, it was that party to celebrate the end of college’.
Of course she remembered. He had been completely in love with her. Rosie, who had known David since she was 11 years old, knew that but she had never fancied him.
Standing there she remembered how he had touched her shoulder at that party and kissed her, pushing his hands through her long black hair.
She had slapped his face.
They both stood looking at each other in amazement. Both saw a middle-aged person.
‘However, did you recognise me?’
David grinned and she saw the boy he had been.
‘I never forget a good slap’ he said and pretended to ruefully rub his cheek.
Rosie roared with laughter.
Other shoppers glanced at them as they rushed past with their gift-wrapped parcels, and Rosie felt her spirits’ lift. This was so unexpected. A real surprise.
‘How are you Rosie? You look well’.
‘Oh, you know, fine thank you. How about you?’
‘I’m OK’ he said carefully, almost guarded. ‘I’ve recently become a widower’.
‘Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that David. How long were you together?’
‘Twenty-six years’.
‘That is hard, really hard. I don’t know how I’ll cope when it happens to me’.
David looked surprised.
‘When it happens to you. whatever do you mean?’
‘My husband has MS. You will remember Jake. We married eventually. We’re now on borrowed time’.
Rosie’s eyes filled with tears.
‘It’s the worst thing ever. I am watching him disintegrate’.
David looked shocked but answered, ‘Not Jake. Surely not Jake’ and he remembered as he said it the man mountain that Jake had been. Six foot two, rugby playing, handsome, handsome Jake who had taken Rosie. He stood remembering the teen-age despair of being five foot eight, slender, academic, albeit with blonde hair and blue eyes. Not filled out yet but already loving Rosie while watching her swoon before the might that was Jake.
David knew Rosie liked him but not in the way he wanted her to.
‘Let’s sit down and have a coffee and catch up’ he said, and gently taking Rosie’s arm steered her over to the cafeteria. They sat down and David ordered coffee and walnut cake. The little tables were decorated for Christmas and there were complimentary mince pies on offer.
‘Tell me about it’.
Rosie stared at him, swallowed, composed herself and then told him.
‘Jake was diagnosed six years ago when he was fifty-three. At first, he just thought he had problems with his balance. He would never go and see a doctor. He was so dismissive of illness. Then it became increasingly difficult to disguise his symptoms at work, and so he went to see his GP. The diagnosis left him distraught. His body had betrayed him. He became so bitter’.
‘That doesn’t sound like Jake’.
‘Well, that’s the point. He is not like Jake anymore. He’s lost to me now’.
‘David reached and took her hand.
‘What about you Rosie?’
‘Oh, you know’.
‘No, I don’t know. Tell me’.
Rosie let out a deep sigh that she seemed to draw from the pit of her stomach, and then for some reason she told David her innermost thoughts, blurting out, ‘God forgive me but sometimes I just want it all to stop. I do not want to be his carer. I feel so terribly trapped. Jake’s so resentful and frustrated. You will remember how he always had to be in charge, in control, and now the poor sod needs help with everything. He wants me there all the time. If I do go out, he will sulk, give me the silent treatment and he can make that last for days’.
Then, like a mask being pulled down over her face, her whole demeanour changed.
'Anyway, that is enough about me. Tell me something of your life. Have things been good for you?’
David replied’ Yes. I have had a good life. Been happy but like you we had plans and they were simply not to be’.
He told her about his wife, Julie, how she had been diagnosed with cancer, how she had fought for four years against her illness, the times she went into remission and they were able to achieve some of their plans. But in the end the disease had won.
‘it was like an enemy you could never see and that you had no chance against’.
Rosie listened carefully but David had noticed her glancing at her watch.
‘I’m sorry. I’m keeping you. You’ve got to go’.
‘Yes, sadly, the carer leaves at 5 and I do need to get back’.
David looked at her ruefully, ‘Back to reality then?’
Rosie looked around her at the massive Christmas tree that twinkled in the cafeteria, at the gift-wrapped packages people had slid under the tables while they enjoyed afternoon tea, and she said:
‘Do you know what David? This has been such a surprise, a bit like getting a present. It has been lovely. Some thing different, unusual, unexpected and it has really cheered me up. So, thank you for giving me that today’.
She stood to put her coat on. Deliberately she did not exchange phone numbers and she avoided asking him where he lived now. What she realised was that she wanted to get home to Jake. She wanted to tell him about her day, see that he was alright.
It had always been Jake for her, and it always would be. There was no going back, no changing the hand of cards she had been dealt, and really, she wouldn’t want it any other way.
‘You still love him Rosie and remember he’s still in there somewhere’.
‘Yes, I do love him David. But it is so heart breaking. But we should both try to have a good Christmas. Thank you for the coffee and for listening. Bye David’.
Rosie shook hands with him, collected her packages, turned, and walked away.
As she walked, she thought, ‘That could have been dangerous’.
They were two lonely people who had once had a connection. While she had sat there with David, she had felt the need to have someone make her feel young again, attractive, needed in the physical sense, and she could see it in his face that he had felt the same. Someone to hold her, desire her, but, no, that was not the solution.
Time to go home. To go back to her one true love, Jake.
She squared her shoulders, felt her spirits rise a little more and caught the train home.
The Present(Kristin Dockar)
The Present
By Kristin Dockar
Walking through Harrod’s Knightsbridge store at Christmas time is like walking through a fairy land. Decorations are sumptuous, lights twinkle and glitter and the food halls are filled with the scents of Christmas: nutmeg, cinnamon, lemon, and cloves.
But today, none of those sights and sounds helped Rosie feel one bit festive. She had come up to London just to escape the drudge her life had become. As she had walked through those famous doors, a brass band was playing Christmas carols but even these joyful sounds failed to help her mood. She wondered why she had bothered to come.
She was a good-looking woman, but tiredness was written across her face. She felt the permanent lethargy that had become the norm for her and wondered where her sense of fun and excitement had gone. She had always loved Christmas but not today.
Half-heartedly she bought some expensive cheeses, a bottle of Champagne, a bottle of Cognac and a box of very expensive chocolates.
As she rushed through the food hall irritated by being among so many cheerful people, she felt someone touch her shoulder. She turned round. Facing her and grinning was a middle-aged man she recognised but didn’t quite believe she was seeing.
‘Rosie. Remember me. David Hurley. How amazing to see you’?
Rosie stood stock still and gazed in disbelief.
‘David. It must be over thirty years.
‘Summer of 1981’ he replied, ‘remember, it was that party to celebrate the end of college’.
Of course she remembered. He had been completely in love with her. Rosie, who had known David since she was 11 years old, knew that but she had never fancied him.
Standing there she remembered how he had touched her shoulder at that party and kissed her, pushing his hands through her long black hair.
She had slapped his face.
They both stood looking at each other in amazement. Both saw a middle-aged person.
‘However, did you recognise me?’
David grinned and she saw the boy he had been.
‘I never forget a good slap’ he said and pretended to ruefully rub his cheek.
Rosie roared with laughter.
Other shoppers glanced at them as they rushed past with their gift-wrapped parcels, and Rosie felt her spirits’ lift. This was so unexpected. A real surprise.
‘How are you Rosie? You look well’.
‘Oh, you know, fine thank you. How about you?’
‘I’m OK’ he said carefully, almost guarded. ‘I’ve recently become a widower’.
‘Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that David. How long were you together?’
‘Twenty-six years’.
‘That is hard, really hard. I don’t know how I’ll cope when it happens to me’.
David looked surprised.
‘When it happens to you. whatever do you mean?’
‘My husband has MS. You will remember Jake. We married eventually. We’re now on borrowed time’.
Rosie’s eyes filled with tears.
‘It’s the worst thing ever. I am watching him disintegrate’.
David looked shocked but answered, ‘Not Jake. Surely not Jake’ and he remembered as he said it the man mountain that Jake had been. Six foot two, rugby playing, handsome, handsome Jake who had taken Rosie. He stood remembering the teen-age despair of being five foot eight, slender, academic, albeit with blonde hair and blue eyes. Not filled out yet but already loving Rosie while watching her swoon before the might that was Jake.
David knew Rosie liked him but not in the way he wanted her to.
‘Let’s sit down and have a coffee and catch up’ he said, and gently taking Rosie’s arm steered her over to the cafeteria. They sat down and David ordered coffee and walnut cake. The little tables were decorated for Christmas and there were complimentary mince pies on offer.
‘Tell me about it’.
Rosie stared at him, swallowed, composed herself and then told him.
‘Jake was diagnosed six years ago when he was fifty-three. At first, he just thought he had problems with his balance. He would never go and see a doctor. He was so dismissive of illness. Then it became increasingly difficult to disguise his symptoms at work, and so he went to see his GP. The diagnosis left him distraught. His body had betrayed him. He became so bitter’.
‘That doesn’t sound like Jake’.
‘Well, that’s the point. He is not like Jake anymore. He’s lost to me now’.
‘David reached and took her hand.
‘What about you Rosie?’
‘Oh, you know’.
‘No, I don’t know. Tell me’.
Rosie let out a deep sigh that she seemed to draw from the pit of her stomach, and then for some reason she told David her innermost thoughts, blurting out, ‘God forgive me but sometimes I just want it all to stop. I do not want to be his carer. I feel so terribly trapped. Jake’s so resentful and frustrated. You will remember how he always had to be in charge, in control, and now the poor sod needs help with everything. He wants me there all the time. If I do go out, he will sulk, give me the silent treatment and he can make that last for days’.
Then, like a mask being pulled down over her face, her whole demeanour changed.
'Anyway, that is enough about me. Tell me something of your life. Have things been good for you?’
David replied’ Yes. I have had a good life. Been happy but like you we had plans and they were simply not to be’.
He told her about his wife, Julie, how she had been diagnosed with cancer, how she had fought for four years against her illness, the times she went into remission and they were able to achieve some of their plans. But in the end the disease had won.
‘it was like an enemy you could never see and that you had no chance against’.
Rosie listened carefully but David had noticed her glancing at her watch.
‘I’m sorry. I’m keeping you. You’ve got to go’.
‘Yes, sadly, the carer leaves at 5 and I do need to get back’.
David looked at her ruefully, ‘Back to reality then?’
Rosie looked around her at the massive Christmas tree that twinkled in the cafeteria, at the gift-wrapped packages people had slid under the tables while they enjoyed afternoon tea, and she said:
‘Do you know what David? This has been such a surprise, a bit like getting a present. It has been lovely. Some thing different, unusual, unexpected and it has really cheered me up. So, thank you for giving me that today’.
She stood to put her coat on. Deliberately she did not exchange phone numbers and she avoided asking him where he lived now. What she realised was that she wanted to get home to Jake. She wanted to tell him about her day, see that he was alright.
It had always been Jake for her, and it always would be. There was no going back, no changing the hand of cards she had been dealt, and really, she wouldn’t want it any other way.
‘You still love him Rosie and remember he’s still in there somewhere’.
‘Yes, I do love him David. But it is so heart breaking. But we should both try to have a good Christmas. Thank you for the coffee and for listening. Bye David’.
Rosie shook hands with him, collected her packages, turned, and walked away.
As she walked, she thought, ‘That could have been dangerous’.
They were two lonely people who had once had a connection. While she had sat there with David, she had felt the need to have someone make her feel young again, attractive, needed in the physical sense, and she could see it in his face that he had felt the same. Someone to hold her, desire her, but, no, that was not the solution.
Time to go home. To go back to her one true love, Jake.
She squared her shoulders, felt her spirits rise a little more and caught the train home.
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Candy
12/28/2020Nice story. I was pleased that it ended with her realizing she truly loved her husband, in sickness as in health.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
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Kristin Dockar
12/29/2020Glad you enjoyed it Candy. I wasn't sure how the story would end but i think it was fitting! As you say 'in sickness and in health'.
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JD
12/27/2020Beautifully done, Kristin. I'm sure so many people can relate to the mixed feelings you described in your story, of loving someone but also being exhausted and depressed by being forced to become their caregiver, and watch them slowly fade away. it is a heartbreaking situation to be in. And you masterfully captured it. Thanks for all the outstanding short stories you've shared on Storystar, and happy short story STAR of the day! :-)
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
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Help Us Understand What's Happening
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Kevin Hughes
12/27/2020Aloha Kristin,
A tale all to familiar to everyone who had an early "first love" that they mistook for a "true love." And luckily, this Lady figured that out on the fly. Great!
Smiles, Kevin
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Kristin Dockar
12/28/2020Thank you Kevin. I think the plight of people who are carers for their loved ones has been so highlighted during this pandemic.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
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Kristin Dockar
12/26/2020Thank You. I didn't know how this one would end but I'm glad she wasn't tempted!
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