The Nostalgia Effect

by EJ Valson

  However, my mood is slightly deflated when I find out that he and some of his housemates are having a party. I can only assume that girls will be there. I forget sometimes that he is only twenty-two and in his mind I'm probably just some late twenty-something woman with a husband and a kid at home.

  I decide to tell Stacy that Joe and I have split up over lunch one afternoon. "Are you OK?" she asks, sincerely concerned.

  "Yes. Really, it was bound to happen sooner or later," I reply matter-of-factly.

  "Well, in truth you reminded me of my mom and her ex-husband," she says nonchalantly. "I mean, it's obvious you care about each other, but you don't talk about him much and you two aren't really joined at the hip. You seem like buddies more than husband and wife."

  I ponder her comment for a minute. She's right. Joe and I rarely went out together and I don't talk about him much. We are very separate in our lives. From what I recall of my life with Michael, we do everything together. We work together, AND we live together. It's not an easy feat at times, but we've made it work-all the while making time to spend alone together on date nights or when we can break away for a long weekend without the kids. And why was I feeling like our marriage was lacking something before I arrived in this life? I'm ungrateful.

  "You OK? I hope I didn't upset you," Stacy says apologetically.

  I quickly shake my head. "Of course not. You're absolutely right. Which is how I know that I made the right decision," I reassure her and myself.

  Because I know that this will eventually get around the office, and naturally people will handle me with kid gloves, I decide to share the news with Steve. I tell him in a well-rehearsed speech about my new situation, which is then followed by, "I'm sorry to hear that. Take some time off if you need it,"-the standard stuff people say in these circumstances.

  By the end of the week, the entire department knows, including Michael, as well as a few other members of the company. I'm not handling this in the way most people going through a divorce would. I almost feel as if I'm faking it, or going through the motions of being upset. I am not purposefully lying, I'm not thrilled about the obstacles I'll be facing as I embark on this next step, but I know it's necessary. So I'm going through this situation as I think I should. Calm, focused and ready for something new.

  I have hope that John will contact Astrid and me with answers soon, but the lack of communication and little information has me in doubt. All I know is that I am me...well...a version of me. I have my family, my friends, my daughter and Michael?for now.

  CHAPTER 55

  It's been one month since Joe and I officially split. We still sleep in separate rooms and continue to behave as close to normal as we can. Joe has started hanging out at his friends' more after work and coming home right before Olivia goes to bed. This upsets me a little, because she misses him, but I know why he's doing it. It's his way of learning to live without this life. I excuse his neglect and tell Olivia her daddy needs some time with his friends, just like she gets at school.

  I finally decided to tell my parents. They were sad and suggested that we do everything possible to save our marriage. After making it clear that there's no hope, they gave up and said they'd support us in whatever way we need. Joe's parents were just as upset, of course-they were even a little cold to me at our last encounter, but that's to be expected. They are naturally protective of their son.

  Joe remains cordial towards me, but I think he's still pained by my decision. It wasn't his. It was forced on him. I just hope he will appreciate it later. I also hope that he still finds his way to Rachel.

  On Friday afternoon, Stacy decides it's time for me to get out of what she calls my "slump," even though I think I'm doing just fine. She thinks it would be fun to go out for a girl's night at some of the local pubs downtown. Joe is heading to Portland for a friend's bachelor party anyway, so I don't have to worry about making him feel bad if I leave and he's home alone for the night. I concede and make plans for Olivia to go to my dad's.

  I pull myself together after a quick cat nap. I start by putting on some fun music that I haven't listened to in...well...since the times that I remember Stacy and me going out in my other life. I shower, shave and take my time doing my hair and makeup until I'm satisfied. I also manage to pick out a nice-fitting pair of jeans, a dressy black top and a pair of wedge heels.

  When finished, I take a long look in the mirror. I'm standing here before myself, almost unrecognizable in some ways. I look healthy and fit. I feel good in my skin for the first time in a long time. Yet even though I'm younger in appearance, I feel older than ever. Before my emotions get the chance to take over and dampen my mood, I smile at myself and mentally commit to having a good time.

  Stacy picks me up at 7:00 p.m. and we head straight to our favorite pub and restaurant downtown. The April evenings are becoming warmer and the nights are longer, so the downtown streets are busy with a mixture of college students and older upper class folk. The setting sun graces this small town with a tender warm light that makes twilight almost mystical. For a moment, I can't tell what year it is-this season feels the same in the present or future. Regardless of what the year is, it's still my home and that comforts me.

  When we enter, the restaurant is overflowing with life and music. We're quickly seated at a table for two. We order martinis and a plate of fries until deciding what we want for dinner. We aren't in any rush and are having a good time people watching and laughing at stupid things, like we always do. It's in these moments with Stacy that I feel sane. I'm reminded of who I am at my core and grateful that I have her to keep me grounded. Tonight I will not think about tomorrow. I will not think about Joe and Olivia and what will happen next. I'll live in this moment with my friend and appreciate that life has been gracious enough to give me her friendship both times around.

  After the drinks kick in, we get a little playful with the waiter. Stacy is a natural born flirt and her talent amuses me. After finishing our long dinner, we decide to move on to a few more places.

  "Oh, let's go to Karaoke!" she exclaims.

  "Hell no! I'm not singing," I reply, laughing at her suggestion.

  "No, we'll just go watch," she assures me.

  We pay our bill and exit towards the waterfront to the next bar. We aren't drunk by any means, but our heels are teetering on the cobblestone, so we link arms and lean on each other for stability. I feel a hint of what I now refer to as the "Deja vu daze" come over me for a moment as we pass another pub. I quickly recall a moment there dancing with Michael, while the group we were with was off ordering drinks. We were in an area where no one could see us, so we took a chance just to be close.

  "Hellooooo," Stacy says to get my attention.

  "Wow, sorry," I say, recovering from my memory. "I got side tracked," I explain, with a smile on my face.

  We make our way into the next pub, which is full of college-aged people. Stacy leads us to the bar, since she's taller and has no problem maneuvering through the sea of people. For a moment I feel out of place, but then realize I'm still in my twenties in appearance, so I'll blend in just fine.

  Instead of a Karaoke machine, an Irish style rock band is playing on the small corner stage. They sound familiar, and I get a quick flash that I've seen them before. The atmosphere is upbeat and lively and the energy encourages having a good time. Stacy turns away from the bar and hands me a pint of beer. God love her for charming her way to getting served quickly.

  She manages to find a small table near the entrance. I sit down and watch the band prepare for their next song. People are coming in and out from the door behind me. It's not the best seat in the house, but at least the draft from the night offers a breeze to cool the crowded bar. Stacy is in the middle of telling me that she thinks the bartender is cute, which I know will make for some entertainment later when she flirts with him. Stacy's in mid-sentence when she notices something that breaks her concentration. "Oh hey!" she shouts and starts waving at someone behind me. />
  Before I get a chance to look, Michael appears at the side of our table with Bjorn. He looks charming with his fresh, edgy haircut. He says hello to me and then converses with Stacy about the band. I try not to stare, but his t-shirt has caught my attention. "Titanic Swim Team, 1912," it reads. I laugh out loud, and then quickly get thrown into a scene from the past.

  It was shortly after he arrived here the first time. Stacy and I wanted to take him and Bjorn out to show them some of the local nightlife, so one night after work we met up for drinks at a pub on campus. That night was much different than tonight. We barely knew each other and he was still adjusting to his new environment. He couldn't find a beer that he liked and we went through several until he found something suitable. I thought that he was picky. I wasn't wrong. He can be, but when he finds something he likes, he sticks with it.

  I shake off the daze. "I'm going to get another beer," I say rising from the table. "Do you guys want something?" I ask the three of them. Bjorn, Stacy and Michael nod. "OK, a few pale ales, alright?" I ask. They nod and agree in unison.

  I move my chair and prepare to make my way to the bar when Michael suddenly appears at my side. "Hey, I came to help you. It's a lot of beers to carry on your own," he says politely.

  "OK, great, thanks," I reply, blushing a little.

  We make our way to the bar and are forced to wait while the bartenders help other customers. I lean against the bar, fidgeting with my debit card. I can feel the heat from Michael's body, as he stands close to me. I fight the urge to reach out and touch him. He's looking around assessing the bar, the people, the band. I know I've seen him do this before. He isn't judging, just taking in his surroundings. I smile at this recognizable habit.

  I can't help but stare at him. I'm so sure that this is my future husband right in front of me. Younger, more naive and unaware of the situations that will occur and shape him into one of the best men I've ever known-the man that my friends and family always wanted for me. And I'm sure that some days I wondered why he ever chose me and how I got so lucky. Apparently, I didn't realize how lucky I really was.

  I'm quickly embarrassed when Michael turns back to face the bar and catches me staring. "I like your shirt," I recover.

  He looks down at the ironic shirt. "Thanks," he says grinning.

  Just in time the bartender serves us and breaks the uncomfortable moment. Michael waves off my debit card when it's time to pay and hands the bartender cash. He then takes two beers and leads me through the crowd while I do my best not to run into someone and spill the beers I'm carrying.

  We make it back to our table, which now has four chairs placed around it so we can all sit together. Bjorn and Stacy are sitting close so they can talk over the noise. This leaves Michael and me sitting with our knees almost touching.

  Being the social person that he is, Michael starts to make small talk with me about the band, the bar, and the kind of music he likes. I nod and smile and respond accordingly. All I really want to do is listen to his voice, and feel his presence. It takes everything in me to not reach out and hold his hand. He has no idea that the girl sitting right next to him is fighting every natural instinct to grab him, kiss him and hold him as tight as she can. I feel so in love with him. Every part of him, good and bad.

  I know in my soul, and to my core, and have no doubt that this is the person I was put on this earth to love. Some say that you only find true love once. That may be the case for most people. But in my case, I've met my one true love twice.

  CHAPTER 56

  The clock reads 9:00 a.m. when I wake up smiling on this sunny Sunday morning. I feel well rested, even after a late night of drinking. I'm in a flitter of a glow.

  Images from the night before fill my mind-flashes of laughter, drinking beer, talking and Michael. It was easier to be around him as the night progressed. After realizing that even though I know Michael and I know of our life together and he doesn't, there's still a silver lining. I have a chance to make more memories with him-even if they may not "count" later on if I get back to our life together, wherever it may be.

  I decide it's best to let go and enjoy a chance to be with younger Michael again. We don't have to talk about work, or kids, or bills, or any of the other responsibilities that consume our marriage. Without pretending, we can just be twenty-two and twenty-six. Young, free and without regret.

  My cell phone rings from the bedside, jolting me out of my nostalgia. I see the number on the screen and answer quickly. "Hi, Astrid!" I say enthusiastically.

  She begins with a laugh, "Well, morning Sunshine. I take it you had a nice weekend?" she states with a hint of playfulness. I smile because I know she senses it. I still find it funny how she can't see much of my future but she gets glimpses of what I've been up to in the immediate past.

  "I did. So to what do I owe the pleasure?" I tease.

  "Honey, I've got good news. Well...news at least. I guess I'm not sure if it's good or not, but it's something. John FINALLY called. I was so worried! Anyway, he said he has found the brother of a man who went through something similar to you about thirty years ago. He's going to travel down to his village and meet with him next week. He will thoroughly investigate the situation and call in the next couple of weeks with an update," she finishes.

  I'm excited and nervous all at once. I want to find a way back to my life, but I'm worried about getting my hopes up. This is the only lead we have. There's no one else in their special community that had ever heard about anything like what I've experienced. John has made the most headway, but if he reaches a dead end I don't know where I'll go from here.

  "That's great," I say half-heartedly.

  "Oh, Jennifer, I know it's not exactly what you want to hear. But please be patient. I sense good things from this trip. I feel we are getting closer," she reassures me.

  "Astrid?have you been able to see anything more, about me?" I inquire.

  "Well, honestly?..it's still fuzzy. I know you have been with Michael and I don't think that you should avoid him, but I caution you about trying to force anything. Every time you try to recreate your past or prevent something's natural course, I almost feel as if I lose my grip on?.well....you. I can't concentrate as well on you. But what I can tell you is that lately I've been getting glimpses of you smiling and happy. And you need to let go of any guilt you may have about Joe. He's going to be just fine," she says.

  With that I smile, say goodbye and hang up. I lie back down and stare at the white ceiling above the bed. I will not fight the current. I will accept each day for what it is and not try to manipulate the situation and control the outcome. The first time around I just let things happen and it seemed to work out in my favor.

  I'm startled by someone opening the front door. I hurry out of the bed and rush to the bedroom door to peek out. I realize I'm overreacting when seeing that it's Joe, who has already sat down and is taking off his shoes.

  "Hi," I say, meekly entering the living room.

  "Hi," he says, not making eye contact. He seems annoyed by my presence.

  "How was the party?" I ask, trying to make small talk.

  He shrugs. "Fine," he replies shortly.

  "You're home early," I comment, taking a seat nearby. I can sense that he doesn't want to chat, but we have to get over this awkward stage if we're going to co-parent successfully. I can't bear for things to be like they are in my other life. Not with knowing Joe the way he is now.

  "Yeah, it was boring, so Jason brought me back early. He had to work anyway," he says plainly.

  I begin to ask what they did to celebrate when he abruptly cuts me off. "Jen, stop. Stop trying to be my friend," he says firmly. I swallow hard. I'm not used to him talking to me like that. I can feel the blood rushing to my face. I am now embarrassed and trying not to cry.

  "Sorry," I manage to say while choking back tears. I'm confused. I thought we had an understanding. I don't know why he's suddenly acting so cold towards me.

  I wait in
stunned silence, while he sits with his palms pressed against his forehead. "I don't want to be mean. I know that you want to do this the right way, but I can't stay here anymore. It's too hard coming here every day and not being with you. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells. I have to constantly make sure I don't call you 'babe' or tell you 'I love you' by habit. It's just uncomfortable for me," he explains.

  I take a minute to figure out the best way to respond. I don't want him to go. Mostly because I'm afraid that if he leaves, he will be absent completely. What if he stops seeing Olivia? Will I have to be the bitch ex-wife that's constantly telling him to visit his kid or pay child support? I never really did the first time, but I'm worried it could come to that.

  "Joe, I'm sorry. I don't want you to feel like that. What do you want to do?" I ask.

  He shakes his head. "I don't know yet. But I think we need to start the divorce process, make it official," he says, slumping into the chair.

  I guess he's right. There's no point in staying like this. We have told our close friends and family. Next is Olivia. The first time around it was so much easier. She was very young. She never remembered us together. This time I'll have to tell my five year old a hard truth. Her soul is so innocent and tender. I hope she can bare it. I hope I can too.