Twenty Years Too Late: She Begs Me Now

That July, we were filling out college applications.

My childhood sweetheart threw away the plan we'd made together and went off to a community college to be with the poor kid instead.

"Jude's family doesn't have much," she said. "He's always been a little insecure about it. I can't stand the thought of him going somewhere strange all on his own."

I looked at her for a long time. Then I nodded and said nothing.

That same day, I accepted my offer from a university abroad and walked into the airport alone.

Twenty years later, I'd become one of the top bridge designers in the world, invited home by my country to design a bridge. And there she was again.

She was wearing a cleaning uniform, looking at me, her lips working without sound.

"You… are you doing all right?"

I nodded calmly, stepped around her, and walked into the conference room.

The moment the door closed, I heard her crying, low and choked, holding it back.

1

The meeting ran three hours, and by the end we had a rough design plan for the bridge.

Chief Designer Chavez smiled. "Mr. Lyons, the welcome dinner's all arranged. Don't you dare turn me down again."

When he'd picked me up at the airport, he'd mentioned the welcome dinner, and I'd naturally declined, saying work came first.

Now that we had a preliminary plan, he brought up the dinner again, and this time I wasn't going to refuse.

Walking out of the conference room, the first thing I saw was Kirsten Henson standing in the corner.

She started to come forward, but she saw the crowd of people around me and shrank back.

"Mr. Lyons, go rest at the hotel first. I'll send someone for you tonight."

I nodded and watched Chavez lead his people away.

Only after they'd stepped into the elevator did I turn to Kirsten.

"Did you need something?"

She froze, then answered in a fluster, "No. It's nothing."

The hallway by the elevator went quiet.

I looked at her. The cleaning uniform didn't fit. Her hair was dry and gone yellow, her hands thick with calluses, her cheeks hollow, her lips pale.

Twenty years.

She'd changed so much.

If we hadn't grown up together, I never would have recognized her.

A full minute passed before Kirsten clenched her fists hard, as if working up her nerve.

She lifted her head and looked at me.

"Mick Lyons, would you walk with me for a bit?"

"Sure." I agreed without hesitating.

Because twenty years is long enough. She'd faded in me until she was only a shadow, and nothing about her could stir me anymore.

We went into the emergency stairwell and started down the stairs.

Kirsten spoke first. "Mick, I never got to congratulate you. A top bridge expert now, in the whole world. You made your childhood dream come true."

"These twenty years couldn't have been easy for you. Oh, do you want to know how mine went?"

"Not that it's anywhere near as exciting as your story, I'm sure."

She looked at me expectantly when she finished, like she was waiting for me to ask.

I only shook my head. "It wasn't easy, but it wasn't all that exciting either. Just an ordinary life, quiet days."

Kirsten stopped short. She pressed her lips together hard and forced a smile. "Right. Ordinary days, a quiet life. That's already plenty to be grateful for."

"Anyway, I won't keep you from getting back to the hotel to rest. I've still got work to do. Goodbye."

With that, she left like she was fleeing.

I watched her back, and my thoughts drifted to twenty years ago.