It was Tuesday, and this week the poker night was at our house.  As usual, the men were all camped out at a card table in the living room playing while the women sat around the kitchen, catching up on each other’s children, gardens and a myriad of other boring-as-dirt subjects.  I’d thrown in my two cents about rose bush care and fertilizer type, commented on this week’s book for book club, and opinioned on school board decisions, a large handful of which no one agreed with me on.

As they happily moved onto discussing their cooking classes or croqueting or whatever it was they talked about, I let my mind play across the span of my memory, recalling the flamboyant oranges and reds of the New York fall and how it had brought out the deep amber undertones of her hair as the bright sun beat down on us, brightening her bronzed skin.  I remembered the ease she gained and projected as that day passed, the difference I saw between her Wisconsin self and her superior New York persona.  Her speech patterns even differed, her better form adopting any number of ten-dollar words, interesting analogies and engaging stories as well as beautifully put together sentences off the top of her head.

As I came to, I realized a silly grin was plastered on my face.  Allison looked at me sideways, almost asking.  I shook it off, smiled at her and hurriedly jumped into a conversation about kitchen spices.

*          *            *            *            *

            Summer forced its way to the forefront.  Henry and I graduated, and Bette moved home for three months.  She expressed concerns about our diminished contact that I agreed with, but I brushed them off partially because I doubted I’d be able to let her slip away and partially because I wanted so desperately to.  I needed the summer to run and find me.  Looking back, I really was hiding from the hard decisions I should have made and didn’t have the strength to.  My reality was so well ordered at that time.  I was moving home in two months to work on my second masters, I needed to find a job until my summer camp one started, and I had Henry.  It was simple, laid out.  I couldn’t throw any part of that away for a chance at what?  Unconditional love with the perfect partner?  Heaven forbid.