The Nostalgia Effect

by EJ Valson

  We sit quietly for a moment, staring at the sky and listening to the sounds of crickets. I've always loved it out here. Though it's a typical suburban neighborhood, the part of town that it rests in is close to the river and hay fields. It's a little country-ish and the big open sky above has always made me feel like I can breathe better.

  "I'm sad that I have to leave soon," Michael says, out of the blue.

  I turn and look at him. My future husband is right before me. And in this light he doesn't appear as young. He looks like the man I recall waking up to every morning and kissing goodnight before bed every night. He's through and through connected to me, he just doesn't know it yet.

  My heart's in my throat. I feel a lump swell and I fight back tears. I swallow hard, for fear if I speak I'll choke on the emotions I'm trying to hold inside.

  I nod. "Me too," I say quietly.

  He looks back up at the sky. "Do you believe in soul mates?" he asks.

  CHAPTER 60

  I'm woken up by blinding sunlight piercing my eyes. I roll over to my other side and will myself to fall back to sleep. Michael's still sleeping on the opposite side of the bed with a small blanket covering his body. When we finally went to bed, it was platonic. We didn't even get under the covers, but instead slept on top of the comforter and used separate blankets.

  We stayed up talking until almost 3:00 in the morning. After Michael asked me about soul mates, our conversation turned introspective and we discussed how soul mates could be your best friend, family member or just someone who makes an impact in your life-but not necessarily your true love. We later made a friendly agreement that we were supposed to meet. He said he was grateful we were becoming friends and promised to stay in touch when he got back to Sweden. Michael explained that once he makes a good friend, he's always there for them. I'm certain he's telling the truth, as I feel loyalty is one of his strongest qualities.

  Michael starts to stir awake, jostling me from my thoughts. He reaches over and touches my shoulder. "Come spoon with me," he grumbles. This surprises me, but without hesitation I turn and fold into his body. The blankets remain between us as he holds me. We are like innocent adolescents. Not kissing, not holding hands. Wanting to touch, but not crossing a line into serious physical intimacy.

  A few minutes later the doorbell rings and disrupts our moment. I jump from the bed and scurry to my mom's office to look out the window. If there's a car parked outside, it might indicate who's at the door. I'm relieved when I see that Lewis' car is in the driveway and not Joe's, though I don't know why he would come here.

  "It's Lewis!" I call to the bedroom. I hear Michael shuffle out of bed, then he shuffles into the hall. His face is puffy from sleep, as we only got about five hours of it. He moves past me, heads down the stairs and opens the front door.

  "Hey," he says, letting Lewis in.

  "You ready to go?" Lewis asks him.

  I walk down the stairs. Lewis looks up and gives me a wink. "You two have a good night?" he teases, raising his eyebrows.

  "Oh, stop," I say jokingly.

  "Probably not as fun as you," Michael retorts while putting on his sweater and shoes.

  "I guess I should call Stacy and get the details," I tease Lewis back.

  "Women," Lewis huffs while shaking his head, but I see a grin on his face as he turns to walk back to his car.

  "Bye, Lewis," I shout after him. He keeps his back turned but raises his hand in a wave.

  I step closer to Michael, though I'm not sure how to say goodbye. He leans in and embraces me. I hold him tightly, but briefly. He still smells good, though his cologne has faded through the night.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," he says, then gives me a quick peck on my forehead and leaves.

  I slowly close the door behind him and lock it. I sit down on the cold hardwood floor and let my body adjust to the loneliness that immediately overcomes me after he walked out the door.

  My body is aching with the urge to hold him again, kiss him, tell him I love him. It's as if that love has been awakened even more. I feel a gravitational pull to him. And when he's away, it's like I've lost a part of my physical self. My body still functions, but not as well when he isn't with me.

  This won't do. Something has to give. I can't force it, but I'm running out of time. And what if things don't happen the way they did the first time? What if I take the wrong step and throw fate off course?

  "Tell me what to do," I plead looking up. I don't know who I'm talking to. God, life, destiny? Maybe all three. But I need a sign-something to guide me to the next step. I need to know that I'm doing the right thing.

  CHAPTER 61

  The rest of the day moves at a painfully slow pace. I'm sad and feeling depressed. I call Astrid in the afternoon. I'm in a funk and need her to talk me through it. She's the psychic here and should be able to tell me if I'm on the right course. To my disappointment, her machine picks up. I leave a short message and hang up.

  I slump on the couch in the quiet house. I don't even have the energy to turn on the television or stereo, so I settle for lying down and thinking about the night before. What is this? What is the point of this? Why am I really here? Did I do something wrong to deserve this? Did the life I remember with Michael even happen? Are we really supposed to be together or am I not supposed to be with him after all? Did I make a mistake the first time around and now have to correct it?

  I'm feeling all the confusing emotions I did before I found Michael again. But they are magnified now. Before, I felt him, knew of him, saw our life. But after some time passed, it's as if the emotions and memories buried themselves within me. Now, more I'm with him, the stronger I feel about our past and the more intense the emotions are. It's wonderful when I'm with him, but when he leaves it physically hurts and drains me. What will happen when he leaves in a few weeks? Will I survive it?

  At 6:00 p.m. I head to my dad's for dinner, filled with a sense of dread. Joe asked to take Olivia with him to his parents for Sunday dinner, so I'm alone. When walking in, I am welcomed by the smell of roast chicken and garlic mashed potatoes. I'm starving, as I barely ate during the day.

  "Take a load off, kid. Dinner's almost ready," my dad says, after he and Mary greets me with hugs.

  I plop down on the couch. The news is on television but I can't focus on the subject. I'm too distracted by my thoughts. My dad heads to the kitchen to help Mary and leaves me alone. I notice a plastic spaceship-looking thing on the coffee table. There's a black plastic sphere in the middle.

  "Hey, Dad? What's this thing on the coffee table?" I yell towards the kitchen.

  "Oh, that's an electronic Twenty Questions game," he hollers back. "It's fun, but it will guess right every time!" he warns with a laugh.

  Hmm. Why not? I hit what appears to be the power button and lights come on, then red block letters scroll across a little screen.

  "Ready?" it reads.

  I think for a minute of what my answer will be, then I hit the YES button.

  "Is it an animal?" it guesses.

  I push the YES button again. This makes me laugh, because my answer is "Michael" and he isn't a mineral or vegetable. Let's see how good this thing really is. Like it will guess a name!

  "Does it eat meat?"

  I press "YES."

  After about seventeen more similar questions that make me laugh out loud, I'm sure I will have this thing guessing "bear."

  The game occasionally teases me and says things like, "I know what you're thinking." I highly doubt it.

  I'm proud of my attempted trickery when I get to the last question.

  "I've got the answer!" it reads.

  "Sure you do," I sarcastically whisper.

  "Soul mate!" the screen displays.

  I freeze. This damn game has defeated me. My heart's thumping in my chest as I hold this plastic object that's flashing the answer, waiting for me to confirm if it's right.

  I asked for a sign. I got it.

  CHAPTER 62


  The work week is slowly creeping by. The only reason I want it to hurry is because Stacy decided to put together an impromptu trip to Seattle for Bjorn and Michael, as they have never been there. Joe wanted to take Olivia camping with his family, so it worked out in my favor.

  Though I miss hanging out with Olivia, I know I'll have more opportunity when Michael leaves and my weekends aren't occupied with trying to get every free minute with him. Sometimes when it's just him and me, whether it's getting coffee in the kitchen or on the drive to take him home after work (because the car they bought died after all), there's a familiar quiet between us. It feels so normal that I'm almost convinced we will be going home to the same place at the end of the day.

  Thursday night I do laundry and pack for the weekend getaway. I'm nervous and excited. Though I feel like this is something we've done before, I can't put my finger on it. I have flashes of Michael's face with the Space Needle in the background. But I'm not sure if this is my imagination or a real memory.

  Olivia's in the living room with Joe watching television, so I'm alone in my room when my cell phone rings. It's Astrid, who still hasn't returned my call from more than two weeks ago. "Astrid? I was beginning to worry about you," I say upon answering.

  "Oh, I know. I decided to go to the mountains with some friends," she says whimsically. "It was incredible. We meditated, drank wine, and ate fabulous cheeses?..just had a splendid time!" she elaborates.

  "Well, I guess psychics need time off too," I joke.

  "You got that right, love. It's too much noise down here in civilization," she laughs. "So, I got your message and saw your missed calls. You sounded a little down. You OK now?" she asks.

  "Yeah. Actually I am," I say, surprised by my own response.

  "Good! Well, I hope this makes it even better. I just talked to John. He left me several messages and was finally able to reach me. It seems he has found the gentleman we were talking to him about last time. And it's a match," she finishes.

  I freeze. "So, what now? What's next?" I hurriedly ask.

  "Well, the man isn't in the best shape to talk. Apparently there were some?. effects," she admits.

  "Effects? What kind of effects?" I ask, growing concerned.

  "I'm not sure of the details, but he isn't really able to communicate his story. His brother is doing most of the talking for him and he's giving John only bits and pieces. I think he wants to establish trust first. But it sounds like there is more for John to learn. We won't know more until later next week, or the week after," she explains.

  I deflate. I feel like I'm on a roller coaster. Just when I get a high, it drops-and rather than enjoy it I feel sick to my stomach. "OK," I say, my voice full of disappointment.

  "Chin up, Buttercup!" she chirps. "I also wanted to tell you, I had the strangest dream. You were in it and I could clearly see you walking with a man holding hands. You were near water. There were boats nearby, like sailboats. I couldn't see his face, or much about him, but I knew there was a strong bond. But the strangest part is you turned to the side and you were pregnant. Largely pregnant," she says.

  "OK, but that's just a dream," I respond.

  "Oh, no, Darling," she corrects me. "My dreams aren't like yours. They are visions and usually ones that are concrete. Anyway, gotta run. Off to a spirit meeting," she says, before hanging up.

  It's just like Astrid to call and try to reassure me, but instead confuse me even more. This is not helpful information. It's frustrating. I'm the type of person that likes to get things done. I like instant results and this has been the biggest test of my patience that I can recall. Everything's a waiting game, nothing feels tangible and I have no way to know if I'm doing anything right.

  CHAPTER 63

  Dusk is setting in over the Seattle skyline as we pull into the city on this crisp May evening. Lights from tall building windows illuminate the air and I grow more excited as we take the exit towards the hotel.

  The ride here was easy and fun. Lewis drove Stacy's car and she played DJ. Michael, Bjorn and I squeezed into the back, with me in the middle. This forced me to be close to Michael, who let me lay my head on his shoulder while I napped.

  "Ok, so I think we take a right here and it should be a half mile down that way," Stacy says, navigating from the directions she printed from the internet. Michael snaps pictures as we drive through the busy streets. The camera preview shows smears of car lights and businesses. The pictures aren't clear, but are artistic-looking.

  "Ohhhh," Lewis says, starting to laugh as we approach the hotel?.or rather, motel. Stacy had booked a hotel online that was downtown and within a twenty minute walk to Pike Street Market and the Space Needle. The price for a double suite was decent and now we know why.

  The outside of the building is painted a mint green color that's showing serious signs of wear and it's obvious that people don't just stay one night. I'm inclined to believe that some people live here, as there are potted plants in a few of the windows.

  "Well, this should be interesting," Michael says.

  "Damn it!" Stacy says, disappointed.

  I lean forward and squeeze her shoulder. "It's OK. We won't be staying in the room that much and the location is good. We will just make sure to lock the doors!" I assure her, laughing.

  "What's that guy doing up there?" Bjorn says, pointing to a room on the second level. A man with a large video camera on his shoulder puts out a cigarette and walks back into a room, then shuts the door.

  "Making a porno movie," Michael and I joke in unison. We look at each other and laugh.

  "Great," Stacy says, as she gets out of the car and heads into the lobby.

  A few minutes later we head up to our room, which is luckily on the opposite side of whatever movie is being made in the other unit. Upon entering the room we're immediately hit with the smell of cigarette smoke coming from the room next door.

  I drop my bags near one of the three twin-sized beds in the main room and decide to take a tour. On my right is a full-sized bathroom, decorated in dark pink and green. Across from that's an adjoining door to the smoker's room. I grab an extra blanket from the closet shelf, bundle it and press it against the door to block the smoke.

  "Good idea," Michael says, noticing what I'm doing. I shrug and nod.

  The main bedroom is decorated with old wood paneling and the yellow painted cinder block wall supports windows covered in plaid curtains. The queen-sized bed is slightly sunk in the middle and I'm now praying the sheets are actually clean.

  "OK, so girls in this room, boys in the front?" Stacy asks when entering the room.

  I quickly glance at Michael, who makes eye contact with me. "Sure thing," he politely agrees, and then leaves.

  "So, no cuddle time with Lewis tonight?" I tease her.

  "Oh, no, no, no," she quickly responds. "One night of cuddling and he thinks we're married. I need to draw the boundary line."

  We freshen up after the four-hour car ride and decide to walk to dinner. Once we get out of the motel parking lot, the city offers a more visually pleasing experience. The sidewalks are clean, the trees are maintained and the businesses around us are upscale and inviting. After walking for a while, we settle on the Pie Palace, as it's still happy hour and they have plenty of seating. I take notice that Michael has been a little quiet during the walk here.

  "You OK?" I ask him quietly when we sit down at our table. He smiles slightly and nods. I know this face. He's distracted, something is on his mind.

  Dinner comes quickly, and we eat up and then drink even more. Stacy, Lewis and Bjorn are caught up in the moment and enjoying the loud atmosphere. But Michael has been more reserved and I'm having a hard time tuning it out.

  When we leave I reach for Michael's arm to slow him down to walk with me. "What's wrong?" I ask.

  "Nothing," he replies, unconvincingly.

  Lewis, Stacy and Bjorn continue ahead of us, not realizing we are hanging back while they laugh and talk as they walk
down the sidewalk towards the motel. Michael is walking with his head down, lost in thought.

  "OK, stop," I say, stopping him in the middle of the walkway. "What's up with you, tonight?" I ask frustrated. I don't care how well we do or don't know each other at this point. I hate sulking and that's what he's doing. I just want to have a good time and I can't with him in this mood.

  He looks down for a minute and thinks, then looks up at the sky and sighs a big sigh. "I just want this weekend to go well. But mostly, I'm having a hard time imagining leaving. I love being here with you guys, and I have a little over a week until I have to go back home," he says.

  "So, are you afraid that if you just let go and have a good time it will be harder to leave?" I ask.

  He stares down at the sidewalk and nods. He's embarrassed by his emotions, but they are honest. It's almost childlike and my nurturing side kicks in. I gently place my hands on both sides of his face and lift his chin so he's looking at me.

  "I don't want you to leave either. But we need to make the most of this weekend. We need to not think about you leaving. We need to let ourselves go and make memories and not have any regrets," I explain.