Blue Velvet

Ralph and Marge sat on their old beat down front porch with missing floorboards and faded yellow paint watching the sun set in the western sky sipping sweet tea. Ralph in his favorite rocker that can barely rock anymore and host a few missing spindles. Marge on the swing with brown peeling paint and rusty chains that creak when it swings. They were reminiscing about their youth and when they first laid eyes on each other and fell in love.

Ralph confidently admitted, “I had a crush on you since ninth grade. I wanted to approach you in the hallway, but you were always with your girlfriends. You would all laugh at me every time I looked your way. In our classes together you rarely acknowledged my presence. It's never good to be a shy withdrawn boy in high school, but I was. My buddies tried to coax me into being more assertive when it came to girls, but I couldn't. So, I just watched you year after year. During that time my feelings continued to grow for you. Then it was time for our Senior Prom. It was do or die. I went to the Prom alone in hopes that you would be there. It was our last year and my last chance to let you know how I felt. Arriving at the dance I searched for you. To my joy you were standing against a wall under a poster which read 'Prom Night, Let's Dance!' I thought to myself, 'was that a sign or what?'

“Well,” Marge admitted. “If truth be told, I was nervous too. I really liked you. I wanted to talk to you, but my girlfriends always teased me. I was hoping you'd be at the Prom too. And that night my heart skipped beats when I saw you.”

Ralph asked, “Do you remember when I first laid my eyes on you?”

“I do Ralph,” said Marge gently squeezing his thin wrinkled arm which lie resting on the arm of the rocker. “You made me so nervous You wouldn't stop starring at me.”

“I was admiring the beauty standing across the dance floor. You were the prettiest girl in the room. All decked out in your flower printed dress with the blue velvet collar,” he said as he reached around and tenderly caressed her hand.

“I thought you looked quite handsome in your navy-blue suit and pitch-black hair. Which has now turned to a stunning silver gray,” she said smiling as she lovingly ran her fingers through his thinning hair. “I glanced at you a few times but quickly looked away. I didn't want you to see me gazing at you.”

“It bothered me to see you dancing with other guys, but it was our Jr/Sr Prom, and I wanted you to enjoy yourself. Plus, to be honest I couldn't get up the nerve to ask you to dance,” he declared.

“But you danced with other girls?” Marge questioned.

“Yes, I did. But they meant nothing to me. I already had feelings for you. I liked you a lot. As the night went on, I knew I had to ask you to dance, or it would be too late. You would have never known how I felt about you. So, with a shaky body and trembling legs I made my way over to you. Standing in front of you I was mesmerized by your beautiful glistening velvety blue eyes.”

“When you asked me to dance my heart melted. I became weak and, in my mind, you were holding me up. But you were really holding me close to you as we danced. Throughout the night we rarely left each other's arms except to get a glass of punch.” Said Marge with a sparkle in her eyes.

“We later walked out on the balcony. The night sky was blanketed in a soft aurora of light from the twinkling stars. Your eyes were beckoning me to kiss you. Your warm smile was inviting. The night was ours to take.” he conceded.

“Yes, I wanted you to kiss me,” she admitted. “I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she chuckled.

“I didn't want to rush you. But I think we both felt it,” he confessed. “I gently held your soft warm face in my hands and tenderly brought your lips to mine. You sighed a soft sigh as I gently placed my lips to yours. Your kiss was like the warm rays of sunshine in early May. I wanted more,” he acknowledged.

“We were so much in love, and our love grew ever so strong throughout the years,” said Marge.

“Yes, it did,” said Ralph.

“Ralph, wait here. I'll be right back.”

Marge opened the screeching screen door and stepped inside.

To Ralph it seemed like a lifetime before Marge finally returned.

“Ralph,” Marge said standing in the doorway to their little run-down shack. “Come here Ralph. I need you,” she uttered under her breath.

“OK, Marge,” Ralph's voice crackled as he replied. He cautiously and deliberately  began the slow tedious process of leaving the security of his rickety rocker and going to his beloved. With knuckles as white as new fallen snow he let out a loud grunt as he plucked his crippled and feeble body from the rocker. He stood legs shaking while he gathered his wits. Once stable he slid to the side of his rocker. He turned and was frozen in time as he starred at his beautiful wife dressed in a flowered dress with a blue velvet collar. She was young and beautiful just as he had remembered her. At that very moment he was carrying the weight of memories of a lifetime. Despite the ache in his bones, he tottered humped over towards her warm inviting smile. He approached her with outstretched arms. He slowly leaned forward placing a kiss on her fading lips as he heard her whisper, “I love you, Ralph.” He stood looking into emptiness as he whispered, “I love you too Marge.

He turned and shuffled his way back to the old rocker with a few spindles missing. Glancing over at the old swing with peeling paint his eyes began to get misty then tears fell like rain clouding his vision, but he could still see his beloved Marge in her blue velvet through his tears.

He picked up his glass of sweet tea, but it was empty.

As was his heart.

Only a memory.