[dmeredith]: 352.The Date

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The Date



Edward peered into the clouded looking glass intently. He drew nearer, breathed heavily on the silvery surface, which clouded the mirror further. Then he scrubbed it clean with a pristinely white pocket handkerchief. He did this more out of habit than from any real expectation of improving the reflection within at all. The mercury was flaking off the back of the ancient mirror and it left black speckles all over the image within. Edward did not mind, really. Honestly, he felt like the looking glass was being kind.

It too knew what it was like to be old and worn out. Two tottering oldsters like them had to stick together these days, after all. It mercifully obscured the worst ravages of time in his deeply creased and craggy face. Edward appreciated it, especially today. He needed as much self-confidence as he could scrounge. He had to look his very best.

First the old man carefully combed his wispy white hair, applying just the right amount of tonic. He felt the bubbles tingle through his liver-spotted scalp and smiled at the sensation in spite of himself. He honestly only continued using the stuff because of that feeling. It was doubtful it could provide much other aid anymore to his woefully thin, ivory locks.
When Edward judged his efforts sufficient, he set to shaving. First he mixed up a lather with a well-used, horse-hair shaving cream brush and liberally applied it to his gauntly sunken cheeks. Then he stropped his raiser on the sharpening belt hanging next to the wash basin with easy practiced strokes. When he judged it ready, he laid the keenly sharpened blade against his rough, leathery skin.

He shaved carefully, but quickly. His measured, practiced strokes soon made short work of the prickly grey stubble that had sprung up over night. Edward rinsed the residual foam from his cheeks with a few splashes of steamy water and patted his face dry with a clean, white, fluffy towel. He paused briefly to take in the flowery scent of the drying rag with another smile. Sweet and fresh did it smell indeed, but not half so sweet as Her. Soon they would be together, and Edward could scarcely wait. He began whistling an idle tune to himself as he slapped on his aftershave and spritzed his neck and chest with two puffs of his best cologne, the one she liked on him.

Today was Sunday. They always met on Sunday. They met every Sunday in fact, at precisely 11:30am in the very same spot in the park under a massive oak tree. And so they had done faithfully, without exception for over fifty years now.

The oak was “their tree”. It was the place they had first met, first kissed, first loved. The drooping bows were so heavy that they swept the mossy ground beneath and created a natural leafy tent above them. In the summer the green light would spill gently through the canopy and dazzlingly shimmer in her silky, golden hair. It would sparkle softly in her laughing green eyes. Her brilliant smile would shine yet brighter still. Then she would reach for him…

Edward sighed contentedly as he reached for a freshly pressed suit hanging on the doorframe to his tiny bathroom. It still had the plastic bag on it from the cleaners and felt crisp and clean beneath his fingers. He quickly buttoned his spotless white shirt and pulled on a pair of grey, pinstriped pants. Before donning a grey jacket of the same pattern, he neatly tied a garishly red bow tie around his neck.

The grooming of his person completed, Edward peered into the old mirror once more and flashed himself a satisfied smile at the faded image within. Not as dapper as he once was perhaps, but not bad, he thought. Not bad at all.

He always wanted to look his best for her of course, but today was different. Today was special. Today he had wonderful news to share, and Edward wanted everything to be perfect.

On his way out the door he grabbed his freshly starched fedora, his marble headed walking cane, and a picnic basket of food he had meticulously prepared the night before. He had stayed up quite late last night putting it together, in fact. He had freshly baked the pumpernickel bread she loved so much. He had also prepared a light quiche loaded with mushrooms he had picked himself in the forest. Added to this was a nearly bursting box of fresh strawberries and a small ceramic crock of clotted cream. He had packed the fine dishes and silverware along with two crystal wine glasses to share the premium red he had bought. It was the same vintage as the year they had met, so long ago.

As the old man hobbled down the street, he continued whistling the same song from before. The day looked to be perfect. The sun was shining brightly in the cloudless blue sky. The birds were chirping merrily in the lush green trees lining the boulevard and a gentle cooling breeze ruffled his wispy hair where it stuck out from beneath his hat. He was anxious to meet his beloved of course, but Edward could not go straight to the park yet. No indeed, he smiled. He still had other stops to make.

First he went to the florist were he handpicked two dozen of their finest, freshest roses; All yellow, her favorite. He handed the girl at the counter a hundred-dollar bill for the forty-dollar roses and told her to keep the change. She smiled at him as she accepted the money.

“Special occasion today, Mr. Peterson?” she asked pleasantly and handed him the finished bouquet.

“Oh yes, Jamey,” replied Edward with another huge grin in a creaking voice, heavy with age. He frequented this shop regularly, every Sunday in fact, and was friendly with the young clerk. “The most special... I do believe that today will prove to be the best day that I have had in quite some time, if not the best ever!”

“A date, Mr. P?” Jamey asked teasingly as she slipped her pruning shears into the front pocket of her forest green apron and brushed a stray lock of auburn hair from her eyes. She looked him up and down appraisingly. “This seems more elaborate than just your usual Sunday meetings though doesn’t it, if I might say so. You look ready for a hot night out on the town!”

“Hardly that,” replied the dapper old man with a chuckle. “It is special though. I have very great news to tell her today. Wonderful news! Very likely the best news… It’s something I think she’s been waiting to hear for a very long time. I certainly have at least.”

“I wish you well then,” replied the shop girl with a laugh. “See you next Sunday?”

Edward did not reply but smiled in response and waved to her as he left the shop. As soon as the soles of his blindingly well-polished, charcoal shoes hit the pavement he began humming the tune he had been whistling before. He closed his eyes, inhaled the scent of the fragrant roses he carried deeply, and let the warm sunlight beat down on his weathered face. Yes, today had been a long time coming. Both of them had exhibited such great patience all these long years! Finally today, he could tell her that gregarious patience was about to be rewarded. He sighed contentedly. It was very nearly time and he felt nearly giddy with anticipation!

He popped into the jewelers briefly to pick up the pin he had ordered. It was yellow gold and fashioned in the shape of a galloping stallion. Oh, how she loved horses! The eyes were garnet and the sprinting beast was encircled by an oval of tiny blue sapphires, her birth stone. Edward smiled down at the pin before slipping it into his jacket pocket. She would love it.

He pulled a shiny gold pocket watch from the inside pocket of his coat and checked the time. It was exactly eleven fifteen. He had just enough time to get to their tree on time without hurrying.

As he walked beneath the iron latticed arch of the park entrance he marveled at how little the place had changed since first they came here, so long ago. There might be a bit more ivy entwining the gate. There was some modern playground equipment that had not been there and a host of brightly colored, spandex-clad joggers who would have excited more than just a little notice in the old days. However, the white stone fountain, spouted water high into the air as ever it had. The cobblestone walking paths through shady green stands of trees were as cool and inviting as they had ever been. It was upon one of these that he now purposefully strode.

He slowed as he approached the grand old oak tree that had been their regular Sunday haunt these fifty years. It stood in the deepest, most secluded nook of the whole park. Few of the regular visitors ventured this far. Truly it was theirs. Never had they missed a meeting. Neither soaking rain nor icy snow, not howling wind or frighteningly crashing thunder, not even an earthquake seventeen years ago had ever prevented their precious time together in this, their very own enchanted glade.
Edward spared another glance at his watch. It read eleven twenty-eight and he smiled. He was early.

Gently he pushed the obscuring, leafy branches aside with his cane and hobbled beneath the living emerald canopy. As he entered he removed his hat, crossed his arms, and could not help but smile again.
“You always beat me here,” he sighed, shaking his head helplessly.

Slowly Edward knelt on creaking knees and seated himself on the mossy ground beside the great tree. He set the picnic basket he had brought beside him.

“I’ve brought the lunch of course,” he continued idly as he quickly set to unpacking the dishes and covered plates. He set out the glasses, uncorked the wine, and then poured a full glass for his lady before preparing his own. He quickly served her plate as well.

“I’ve brought you your roses, as if I would ever forget!” he laughed at the ridiculous notion, then waggled a knowing eyebrow. “But I’ve got something special for you today as well.”

Edward reached in his pocket and took out the beautifully crafted pin, displaying it proudly.

“I’ve got…” He faltered in his telling and a tear leaked from his eye, but he mastered himself quickly. “I’ve got big news today… Wonderful news!”

He reached out his hand and lay it tenderly upon the large block of cool, grey, polished marble. He drew a difficult shuddering breath. If he closed his eyes he could still feel her soft, smooth skin beneath his fingers. He could still hear her bated breath as she waited for him to reveal his surprise. He could almost smell her sweet perfume.

When he opened them again however, the illusion was revealed. The marker was unchanged. As always it had, in proudly elegant, simply carved letters it read:

Evaline Chloe Meyer
September 9, 1928-May 12, 1947
Beloved Daughter, Precious Friend

“I went to the doctor yesterday, Eevy,” Edward murmured softly. Tears began sliding down his rough, wizened cheeks in earnest. He placed the roses before the monument and leaned his spotted head heavily against the stone. “He told me… He said…” The old man sobbed once but swiftly regained his composure. He attempted a brave smile and patted the stone reassuringly. “It won’t be much longer now, my girl… The waiting’s almost over. Soon we’ll be together again… Very soon… Very, very Soon…”

He looked up at the brilliant sunlight streaming through the leaves, illuminating their special, magical hideaway. Edward sobbed once more, directing his gaze to the impenetrable canopy above and the infinite, azure firmament beyond. He bit his thin, wrinkled, lower lip fiercely.

“Very soon…” he whispered intensely to the gentle summer breeze.

The End

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