Never Forgotten Love

by S. M. Stryker

  “I don’t hire quitters, and I’ll not let this company turn you into a quitter either,” Richard said in a terse voice. Richard is the father I had never had, he took me under his wing and taught me everything, not just business but how to be a man and what their responsibilities are, and of course, about the business from accounting to building software, he knew everything.

  Richard had turned one of the rooms in his house into a computer room. That is where we spent all our time working.

  Richard continued to teach me everything he knew. He didn’t have a social life, hell he never dated or went out; I don’t even think he has friends. All he did was work and build his business. He didn’t have any family; his parents had died in a plane crash right before I started to work for him. “Richard do you mind me asking you about your parents and what happened?”

  He looked up at me and then there was silence; I didn’t say anything, I figured he would talk when he was ready. After some time, he started in a low, quiet voice. “I was supposed to be with my parents that day, but my boss had asked me to do a special project that was a rush job for a big client, so I stayed behind to do the job, I was going to meet my parents in a week or so. They were my only family, but they were more than that, they were my best friends and when they died, not only did I lose all my family I lost my friends too.” He shook his head as if trying to erase the memories. “I had no one to talk to I was left alone. I didn’t know how to cope I had never lost anyone before. I was distraught after their death they were everything to me, and every day I would come home to the house I grew up in, full of memories, full of them. We were such a tight-knit family we did everything together.

  I was never a drinker, but one night I found myself at a little bar down the road from our house. I plunged into a deep depression and found myself at the bottom of a bottle of whisky day after day, thinking it was helping me cope, but after I sobered up the pain was still there so I drank more. My boss approached me about my drinking and told me that I needed to get cleaned up. I went off on him, told him to fuck off; I blamed him for not letting me go with them so I could have died with them. They had me escorted out of the building I had entirely lost it.” Holding his head in his hands, then he looked up at me.

  “Was it the loss of your job that brought you out of it?” I ask

  “No, it was a postcard that I had received about a month after their death that knocked me back to my senses. As I had said before my parents were the best, they were more than parents they were my friends too, so when I had received a postcard from them a month after they died it really hit me hard, it read:”

  To Our Dearest Son,

  Although we are not together now, we will always be in your heart and you in ours. We will never be far apart no matter the miles, for our love will bind us together no matter the distance and on those nights when you are lonely all you have to do is look in your heart and that is where we will be. We love you and are so very proud of the man you have become. Thank you for being such a wonderful, thoughtful, and responsible son. We hope you will always know how much we love you.

  Love,

  Mom and Dad xoxo

  “Wow Richard, I am so sorry for your loss.”

  “After I received the postcard I took a real good look at my life. I never figured out why it took so long to get the postcard, but it came at the right time. My parents always told me how much they loved me and how proud they were of me, but when I got that card and look at the way my life was heading at that point I knew they wouldn’t be proud. So, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started to look forward. It was hard, fucking hard, but I knew if I just took one step at a time, one day at a time, and set small goals, I would make it.”

  “Not too long after I received the postcard, I received a call from my parent’s lawyer. My parents had life insurance so I decided that I would start my own business, it made sense, I had been working in the tech field making money for someone else, why not me? I asked myself.”

  At first, he started working out of his house, which is when I started to work for him. Now we’ve moved into a large office space and between both Richard and I the company has grown and soon we will be a Fortune 500 company. Richard has spent all of his time and energy developing the business after his parents died never taking time out for himself.

  I graduated from college, with a double major in computer science and business. Richard was there; he was my only family there. He congratulated me and told me how proud he was of me. “I have only had one other person tell me that they were proud of me,” I said, I didn’t know what to think, just that statement, that word hit me so hard that I could feel the burning behind my eyes and a lump in my throat. With a flashback of my mother and her hateful words, I fought to keep the tears from falling, instead I grabbed Richard by the shoulders pulling him tight to my chest for a big hug that I had wished for years I would have received from my mother, but I never received any type of affection from her. Richard had been there for me for many years now, I considered him my father and a friend he not only showed, but also gave me the love and respect I so desperately longed for all of my life. “I love you Richard, you’re the father I never had. Thank you for always being there for me.”

  “I love you to Beckett, if I had ever had a son, I could only wish he was like you. You’re a good man Beckett.” Richard takes me into another hug, and then pulls away slapping me on the shoulder, both our eyes simmered with un-fallen tears.

  Richard reached into his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope handing it to me. “Congratulation on your graduation Beckett. Opening it I pull out a letter from his lawyer’s office, I looked at it and then looked at him. “Read it.” As I read it, the lump in my throat reappeared, and the burning in my eyes started again. I looked up at Richard, speechless, as he slaps me on the back and says, “It’s time to celebrate!”

  Richard and I spent almost all our waking time together, working, building the company and I talked him into working out with me. I had started Krav Maga in high school and brought Richard to see. He joined shortly after. It is a great disciple, and I was good at it. It helped me to stand up for myself. I knew that if I were ever put into a situation I could handle it. I have come a long way from cowering from my mother’s words. Still deep inside, it was the words that hurt me the most, not the physical. Bruises go away, but the memory of all those names that she called me lay suppressed in my mind, just waiting to come back and scare the shit out of me again and revert me back to that terrorized little boy.

  One night when Richard and I were working late, he asked me about my childhood, my mother, and Harlow girl. “Why do you call her Harlow girl? And have you been in touch with her at all since you moved away? You are always talking about her.” Richard asks one night. We had ordered a pizza. The smell of the pepperoni lofted through the office, it was making my mouth water as we were sitting down enjoying it.

  I had to laugh, “I was only four when I first met Harlow. I had no social skill what so ever, so at first, I didn’t know what her name was; again I wasn’t a very social child, so I called her girl, hey girl this or hey girl that, after a couple weeks of me calling her that she finally came up to me and said ‘my name is Harlow not girl.’ I kept the name and just called her Harlow girl, it stuck, and no,” I said, my head falling, “things were so bad back then; my mother always seemed to have one foot over the crazy line. The day after the big food fight, I came home from school and all my things were gone, she took everything including my computer, everything except the clothes that I got at the beginning of the school year, two pairs of jeans, two t-shirts and a coat. I never did find out what she did with it all, but that was my only contact with her and it was gone. I have Googled her, but there is nothing on her, nothing; it is as if she didn’t exist. I haven’t gone a day without thinking of her, wondering what she’s doing, if she fulfilled her dreams; she was always there for me Richard. She was the only reason I survived.” I subconsciously rub my thumb a
nd forefinger over the medallion of my bracelet. “It was the memory of her and thinking that one day we would be together that kept me going,” I tell him. “Now I guess I feel like it is too late. I haven’t had contact with her in so many years that I’m sure she thinks I walked away from her, and she’s probably really pissed off and wouldn’t talk to me even if I could find her.”

  “Don’t you owe it to yourself, hell to her to try and find her? Explain what happened. From what you’ve told me about her, she isn’t the type of person that holds grudges. I think you should look for her. Have you even allowed yourself to have a girlfriend?” Richard asks.

  Still rubbing the medallion, “No, I couldn’t even think about a girl when I was living at home, I just stayed locked in my room, and on those occasions that I had to be around my mother she degraded me so badly, calling me names that I guess I started to believe her. Once I started Krav Maga and I could see my body change, it helped, it made me physically strong, but it took time to rebuild the self-esteem. Then when I went to college, I focused all my attention on my studies and of course here. I think deep down inside I always thought about Harlow, and I felt like I would be cheating on her if I ever did go out with someone. God, so much time has passed, I’m sure she has her own life and this is just a pipe dream,” I said, discouraged.

  “Did she give you the bracelet?”

  “Yes, the night before I moved. She has the other half.”

  “Beckett, if she is that important to you, which I can see she is, don’t let it go, fight for what you want damn it! I have put my life on hold building this business; I have shown you every aspect of my life, taught you how the business runs and how to keep it successful. What I don’t want you too learn from me is being to busy to learn to love. What good is a successful business if you don’t have someone special to share it with? After my parents died I put all my focus and energy into the business, I’ve missed out on so much, I don’t want you to regret missing out on love like I have and if you have problems finding her, I have a private investigator friend that could help you.”

  “God, Richard, you act like your life is over, you still have plenty of time to find love, to find that someone special, and I understand what you’re talking about. I’ll start to look for her. What is the worst thing she can do? Tell me no and get lost? I just can’t imagine her doing that, she wasn’t ever that kind of a person,” I say. “And if I can do it, you can do it too.”

  “Ok, I get it. However, what I don’t want for you is to wait and miss out on all the years of happiness you could have had. I don’t want you to look back with more regret than you are now,” Richard says, “and I’ll try, now that you’re here to help and the business is growing, I guess I can go out every once and a while. I’m kind of set in my ways; I don’t know that I’ll be able to find anyone that could put up with me,” he chuckles.

  The next morning when I arrived at work, I anxiously flip the switch to turn on my computer and start my search for Harlow, but I wasn’t having any luck finding her. I checked every search engine I knew of for her and nothing is coming up. I thought for sure something would pop up. Even I had a couple of posts in Google, and I was a nobody. I asked Richard for the name of his friend.

  Later that morning Paul the private investigator called me back. I filled him in on Harlow and all the information I could remember about her and her family. Paul didn’t seem to think it would be very difficult to find her, and thought that he should have something by the end of the day although he found it strange that there wasn’t anything in any of the search engines.

  Wow, the end of the day. All of a sudden, my stomach was in a knot I couldn’t keep my concentration after talking to Paul. I start pacing my office; I’d never been this nervous about anything. I sat back down in front of my computer to check my emails, to see if I could work a little bit to take my mind off Harlow girl. Well, that worked for about five minutes before I am back up pacing. This time I strode out of my office to find Richard. I walked into Richards’s office and slouched down in the chair across from his desk. Richard looks up from his computer and laughs at me. “What has you so unnerved?”

  “Paul just called, and I gave him all the information that I had on Harlow and her family, he thought he would have something by the end of the day. I am just nervous about what he will find out. I know he has other means of finding out information on people, but I find it strange that I couldn’t pull up anything on her, nothing from high school or college, it worries me; it’s as if she dropped off the face of the earth. He seemed to think it was no big deal, and if he does find her, then what? It’s been so long, it’s hard to wait, I know, what’s a few more hours or days after all these year, right?” I say, “But I’m just anxious, I can’t sit still.”

  “Why don’t you go to the gym, work off the excess energy, and get back here for the interviews for the receptionist position. We start interviewing after lunch.”

  “Oh, Shit! I forgot all about the interviews. Ok and I’ll pick up lunch on the way back,” I say.

  I leave to go to the gym, Richard is right, a good workout will do me wonders, I’ll work out until I am too tired to pace, I’ll get my mind and body back in sync. Once I get to the gym, I start my work out on the treadmill to warm up, running five miles then switching to one legged squats, walking lunges, jump step-ups, pull ups, chin ups, pushups, second plank. By the time I had finished my body is shaking, I should have drunk a protein shake before working out. I take a shower and walk down the street to a new deli/bakery that has just opened. I figured it would be better than fast food and healthier, and I feel like I am helping the little guy instead of a big corporation.

  As I walked through the door, a little bell above the door dings my entrance. The front end of the bakery is all glass, including the door; there is a small display case that has a sampling of items to make your mouth water. The bakery case is about six feet long and has four shelves to display her cupcakes and pastries, it runs along the left wall as you enter, it is open at the end so the workers walk around the display case to get out from behind the counter. The cash register sits next to the bakery case on a counter that is about five feet long, then another bakery case the same length as the first one is next to the counter. It holds breads and sandwiches. There are baskets containing loaves of fresh baked breads. The walls are all painted maroon, chocolate brown and brown mustard with pendant lights of amber hangs down over the tables. Along the right wall bistro table set, some with four chairs some smaller with just two. The room is probably twenty feet wide and leads back to the restrooms at the end. There are bookcases against the wall that display all sorts of cupcake gifts you can buy, from notepads to candles, and the smell inside the bakery…to die for.

  For being newly opened the place is packed, luckily I see the ‘Take-A-Number’ sign on the display case and grab a number. The bakery items are almost gone, but I hear the girl behind the counter explain that there are more fresh items coming out in a few minutes. I see an order pad and pencil on the counter, I pick it up and fill it out with my sandwich orders for Richard, and myself, I deposit my order in the basket and wait for them to call my name or number.

  The smell of the freshly baked desserts brings back old memories of Harlow and helping her at her house and the fun, we had making up new recipes. It’s funny how a smell has a way of pulling old memories out; I guess music does the same thing too. Finally, the willowy auburn hair and green-eyed girl that stands behind the counter called my number, bringing me back to the here and now. By that time, there are only a few people waiting. I walk up to the counter, and I look into the pastry display case, thinking I would bring something back to the office. I glance over to the cupcakes, and cookies that are on display in pretty little papers, setting on pristine white crocheted doilies, just another reminder of my time in Harlow’s house, she would undoubtedly have flour on the tip of her nose and on one of her cheeks. I smiled to myself at the memory. I glance at the lemon cupcakes, and
I am about to order some until I see that there are malt chocolate cupcakes. Taking a closer look at how they were decorated, I notice they have pixie dust on them just as Harlow made them. I’ve never seen anyone decorate their cupcakes like this before. Then I look at the name of the cupcake, I feel all the blood drain out of my face, I grab the counter tightly with my fingers, the girl behind the counters eyes go wide as she looks at me and asks, “Are you ok sir?”

  Taking a deep breath, I look up at her and say to her “Uh…yeah…Yes, I’m sorry,” I shake my head as if I am trying to think straight. “I am fine thank you, and can I get a dozen of the ‘Beckett’s Favorite Malt Chocolate Cupcakes’?” There were only six in the display case.

  “Let me check to make sure we have some more in the back.” She pushes the swinging door to the back room to ask someone in the back if there were more of the Beckett’s Favorite cupcakes. I am straining to see anyone, but I couldn’t see or hear the person she was talking to but the girl behind the counter Shannon according to her nametag comes back and said she had more in the back and would be bringing them out shortly. I strain my neck around trying to see if I can catch a glimpse of the person through the crack in the door that she was talking too in the back, but I can’t see anything. Then the door starts to open from the back, I see it, the delicate hand that begins to push through the door then stops. I see the leather braided bracelet with a silver half heart medallion hanging down. She slowly walks through the door, my heart was racing, my breathing erratic, my palms are sweaty, my face felt hot and I thought I was going to throw up, my body was taking over, and things were happening to me that I had not ever felt before. Shit what is happening to me If I didn’t know better I would think I was turning into a werewolf.