Couples Only.(Kevin Hughes) It was a beautiful room. Imagine your favorite slow jazz song, you know, the one that makes you close your eyes and drift along with the music, now…picture that as a room. Well, that is what this room looked like: smokey, soft, purple, mellow. I loved it.

I moved through the room letting my hand flow over the backs of chairs covered in some sort of felt or suede material. My hand left tracks of different colors as the material shifted under the stroking motion, leaving trails of dark and light behind. Imagine you could swim through the whip cream on top of a chocolate milkshake, it felt like that. Smooth.

There were couches, low lights, and music that seemed to calm you while absorbing all the good vibes into sort of a glow of anticipation…like you were waiting for someone you really wanted to see…and you knew they really wanted to see you. It felt like that. Good.

It was then that I saw the sign:

COUPLES ONLY.

I laughed. I was alone. And I was dead.

*****

I heard a voice behind me:

“Mark, you are here a bit early. Can I get you a drink? We have all the best beers, wines, and non alcoholic beverages you can imagine. (The woman speaking was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen- and she winked at me before her next words) We even have Mead and Ambrosia.”

Her smile lit up the room, not in invitation, but more in the way of a good buddy making sure you were taken care of.

“Sure, I’ll take a Shirley Temple, heavy on the maraschino cherries.”

She laughed and turned away.

I just stood there.

A moment later she was back. On a silver tray she carried over her head like you see in fancy restaurant scenes, was a tall glass (my Shirley Temple) next to the tall glass was a small crystal bowl filled with my cherries. My eyes smiled a “thank you” , her eyes smiled back a “you are welcome.” I took a sip when she handed me my glass. I was startled.

“This is perfect!”

She giggled.

“Of course, Mark, everything up here is perfect.”

It was the opening I needed.

“And where, exactly…is here?”

Waving my arms to include the entire welcoming room we were standing in.

“Oh, this is the Couples Only Lounge…didn’t you see the sign?”

“Yes, but…um…er…I am single.”

She placed a perfectly manicured hand on my shoulder, partly to reassure me, partly (I thought later) to support me in case her answer stunned me.

It did.

“No,Mark, you are not single, you are merely alone.”

For some reason, I started to cry. She was stronger than she looked and kept me upright with just her grip on my shoulder. Or I would have fallen to my knees from the sudden onslaught of memory. I was alone. Because I was dead. My beloved Barbara rendered a Widow by surprise. I was in great health when I died. I remembered that. I remembered when she held my already cold hand when she got to the hospital. She wouldn’t let go. I didn’t want to let go. It didn’t matter, they pried her hand from mine. She patted my toe (I remember that too) as she left the room.

Even in grief so palpable a dead guy like me could feel it, she still carried herself with that casual elegance that true Class seems to endow those with real grace. It was the last time she touched me.

I looked through my tears at the beautiful woman who was holding me upright. There were tears in her eyes too. She whispered a heartfelt:

“Thank you for that, Mark. Barbara is a truly wonderful person, I can’t wait to meet her.”

“What?”

I don’t know what was going through my mind. Hope? Fear? Confusion? I would see Barbara again…that thought crowded out all the other, forcing them to be pressed up against the railing of reason…none of this was possible. Maybe that meant anything was.

She spoke again:

“Mark, this is the COUPLES ONLY waiting room. Just relax. Time isn’t the same here as (a slight hesitation before she continued) …as where you were. Barbara will join us shortly. “

“What? What do you mean? can you show me?”

She hesitated again, but she had shared my mind and memories…and gave in.

“I am not supposed to do this. Here, hold my hand, and close your eyes.”

I did both.

Then…I saw.

Barbara was standing in line at Costco. Our oldest Daughter was standing beside her. Another young woman rounded out the trio of females. I took a hard look again. The other young woman was my granddaughter. She was seven when I died. She must be in college now. I looked harder. My daughter had streaks of silver in her still mostly read hair. Barbara’s Red Hair had been completely silver when I died. Now, it was almost pure white, more of a platinum sheen to it.

I gasped. Had I been dead that long? My God. Barb must be in her eighties.

She was.

The woman let go of my hand. My eyes opened.

She leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek. It was sweet. Like the pecks you get from your children at bedtime. Her eyes were brimming when she leaned back.

“Barb’s here.”

I turned, through the door marked COUPLES ONLY, entered my Barbara. She, like I had done, closed her eyes to savor the texture of the room, the ambience and the feel. She dragged one lovely hand across the material on the back of the big couch…just like I had done. Her eyes flicked to one side, than the other. And then…she saw me.

I didn’t even notice her flaming red hair, nor her young figure. I only saw her eyes, they drew me in. I saw her mouth make a little moue, a gasp, and then delight sprung full blown onto her face. I raced towards her…almost stumbling over a low slung coffee table. She glided towards me, maintaining her elegance and Class even as she raced as eagerly as I did to embrace.

We patted each other with our hands to see if this was real. It was. We kissed. We laughed. We cried. We hugged.

That same Perfect woman I met earlier called out a welcome. She floated closer to us. On her tray were some drinks, a refill of my Shirley Temple, and Barbara’s favorite drink: a Mocha Chocolate Latte…with whip cream and cinnamon. She served us our drinks and gently steered us in the direction of a glowing exit sign.

The Sign read:

COUPLES ONLY.

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