Unfinished Business (Part 2)

FAITH / Faith Hill






She visited his grave for the first time her sophomore year in college. It was the first time she drew the nerve to enter the cemetery. However, doing it once, made it easier. After that, she visited each time she came to town. Some times it was simply a brief check in. Other times she would sit for hours, talking to the headstone or reading aloud. A couple of times, she came to town just to sit next to his grave and think. Often she wondered if she was the only one to visit, but dismissed the thought. Surely if she did, others did also.



The Bridgewater Congregational Church stood proud on the town green, the cemetery orderly in the next lot. With a glance, one could see the tiny town library and the multiple buildings that served as the high school. This is home. This will always be home. It didn’t matter if her parents were leaving town, finally seeking the greater conveniences of a more urban lifestyles.


It was a beautiful June day, warm, but with a breeze rustling the new leaves, and the smell of fresh turned dirt and cut grass in the air. Having spent the day assisting with packing and cleaning, the waning sun seemed appropriate to her mood. She settled herself next to David’s marker as she did in the past, but this time sitting silently. I will still come to visit.


“Hi.”


The voice startled her. She never heard anyone approach.


“Hi.” She answered tentatively, turning to see a tall, thin young man looking down at her. He appeared a bit overdressed for the location, wearing cotton dress pants, button shirt and jacket, a tie, loosened around his neck. He seemed vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t place him. That he stood studying her unabashedly, made her too uncomfortable to ask.


“I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I’m sorry. I guess that was thoughtless of me.” He shifted his gaze from her to the headstone she was sitting next to.


“It’s okay.” She answered more out of social conditioning, than truth. Was it ok? Perhaps she should say she preferred to be alone? “I was … visiting an old friend.” She smiled up at the man, although clearly around her age, he must not be someone whom she went to school with, she decided, or he would have acknowledged either her or David.


He smiled back at her, easily. “25 next month.” He read the headstone. “July birthdays are always hard. Schools out, people away on vacation. Not a good time for a party.”


She nodded politely, figuring he would make his comment and leave. But he didn’t. Instead, she watched with curiosity as he ambled to the opposite side of the grave from where she sat, and slid himself down to lean his back against the headstone, facing away from her.


He studied the church before him, his long slender fingers playing off each other nervously. She always sat like that, cross-legged. “Last year, that church rebuilt their steeple.” He tossed his chin toward the towering white edifice.


She glanced between him and the structure. She remembered a visit when the church appeared to be caged like an animal in a zoo.


“It took them forever. The scaffolding set up all wrong. It’s a wonder it stayed standing. You know how it used to look? That left side had a little entrance?” He looked at her, hunting her face for recognition. She nodded. “Looks better now, they took that part off, but I guess the church doesn’t seat as many now, but that doesn’t make any sense to me.” He looked at her and smiled. She shrugged, unsure. His gaze was relentless.


“I’ve never been in that church.” She finally spoke, looking down to rip nervously at the grass before her, but not before seeing him glance between her and the grave.


She regretted never going to David’s funeral. But it was summer and she was away. The more time passed the more she felt badly about that.


“Everyone goes to weddings and funerals; it’s who comes to visit later that really matters.” She came. She stayed. ‘Visiting a friend,’ he smiled, remembering her words.


“I don’t know.” She glanced up looking into his blue eyes. Eyes that she felt she knew.


“I do.” He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling.


“The school’s changed a lot too, over the last few years.” He spun around to sit cross-legged across the grave from her, facing the high school.


“Yeah. It looks very different from when I went.” She glanced back over her shoulder. This was odd. Should she know this guy? Was he hitting on her in a grave yard or just trying to be nice?


“Yeah. I remember when ‘the white building’ was white.” His voice softened, his attention now focused on the ground. She laughed, the sound like music to his ears. “And when the gym was new. Dances in the old Hall gym.” He stole a glance.


“Yeah I remember that.” She was frowning at him. Who was he? If he remembered these things, they must have gone to school together. She started to ask.


“So, tell me about, David.” He grinned mischievously, interrupting her.


“He was a really nice guy.” She was looking at him skeptically.


“Hmm… ‘really nice guy,’ that’s just what you want a pretty girl saying about you. So, what you’re telling me was the guy’s a geek.” He laughed.


“I didn’t say that.” She was defensive.


“Next you’re going to be saying he was really smart.” He laughed again.


“He was…. and he had a great sense of humor and was very … sweet.” Her eyes were now close to hostile.


“Is that why you’re here?”


“I…” she stumbled over her words, tensing. Her eyes darted to the parking area for her car.


Well, that was the wrong thing to say, he thought.


“Wait.” He spoke quickly, before she could rise. “I mean most people who come to sit grave side, have things they want to say. Feel they have ‘unfinished business’ all that sort of thing. That’s what my mother does… and my brother. What about you? Unfinished business with Dave?” He shifted position again, reclining in the grass so that he could see her.


She felt no animosity. He seemed simply curious. There was something she felt about him, something that she could not place, something that she did not feel often… comfortable.


“Not unfinished business, exactly…”


“What would you say to him, if he were here? If you could?” He interrupted. She blinked at him. How odd a question to seem so sincere from a stranger. How odd that she knew, even before she spoke that she would tell him.


“I would say that I was sorry. I am sorry to have never gone to the funeral. Sorry that I never got to know him better. That I think of him… all the time.” She did. She hesitated. “It’s funny, how things later, when you look back on them take on such different meanings.” Her eyes drifted to the headstone, avoiding the man before her, uncomfortable with the ease of sharing her thoughts.


“And if you could go back? Back to when you were both seventeen? What then?”


“With the perspective I have now?” She asked, and he nodded.


“I’d ask him out.” She laughed, embarrassed. “I remember something he said once, that I didn’t understand till much later and I wish I had.” She shook her head, and glanced up to find him staring at her intently. She smiled and shook her head again, but went on. “I had this insane crush on this guy, and there were a bunch of us sitting around and they were teasing me about it, and I remember Dave turning to this other guy and saying that Justin, the guy I liked, was … lucky….” She smiled at memory, but shrugged. “I never got it, at the time.”


“Really?” His surprise was genuine. “You were pretty dense.” He teased.


“Thanks.” She quipped back, but there was no animosity. “I wish I had.” She added softly. A moment of silence stretched between them.


“So, what happened to you and Justin? Married with children?” He watched her from the corner of his eye.


“Hardly,” she laughed. “Nothing. Nothing ever happened between me and Justin, a silly school girl’s tale of unrequited love.”


“Sorry.” He said quietly and paused. “Though, I’m sure you’ve found love else where, clearly his loss.” She wears no ring. The thought to scan her hands, coming to him late.


So, he was hitting on her, she thought her eyes following his. In a graveyard, no less, that was a first.


“I mean…” he stammered, “I didn’t mean…” He looked frantically around, his fingers twitching. “Hey look is that an ostrich there on the library’s lawn?” He pointed and laughed. “I think I read once, they’re good to eat. Maybe there’s a barbeque.” She laughed as he hoped. “What do you do? I mean, when you’re not visiting old friends.” Ask her questions, keep her talking, keep her distracted.


“Um, I work in Human Resources.” She sighed. “It’s rather boring. And you?”


“Didn’t you want to be a lawyer?” His eyes met hers. “I always thought you would.” The lack of consideration of his words became visible immediately in the look upon her face. He looked away quickly.


“Do we know each other?” It was the nicest way she thought she could ask. So familiar. Who was he?


“We… did.” He met her eyes slowly, watching recognition come to her slowly as she struggled with disbelief.


“Do you remember, when I asked you to dance?” He asked softly, meeting her eyes directly. “We were in the Hall gym, it was a slow dance,” he dropped his eyes; he couldn’t bear to see horror and certainly couldn’t blame her if that was her response. He continued, “Stair Way to Heaven, I requested it, because it was long.” Fearfully, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, hoping he would see recognition and not terror. Never a disappointment.


She definitely recognized him now. He was older, no more glasses. Impossible, but… She nodded. She remembered the dance as if it were yesterday.


“I’m… glad you come to visit me, Sarah.” His voice was barely a whisper. “It’s meant a great deal to me.”


“You’re…” Her voice matched his. He nodded sadly. “Oh…” her breath caught in her throat, not in fear, but embarrassment. Her face flushed.


“It’s ok…” He laughed. “You could still ask me out.” He teased.


“Would you say yes?”


“In a heartbeat, if I had one.” He laughed.


“How…”


“I can’t tell you.” He fell back to lie on his back and look up at the clouds for a second, another resigned sigh escaping his lips. “I’m sorry.” He turned to her, with a weak smile.


She crawled the step closer to him, the irony of kneeling on his grave not lost to her. Tentatively, she reached a small hand toward his arm to touch him. He felt solid; real.


“Dangerous ground.” He laughed nervously, pulling away from her to sit up.


“So, what else is new? It’s been a while since we’ve spoke,” his grin now playful.


“I’ve missed you.” She said seriously. “So…you’ve not heard…” Her face flushed again, wondering what she had said aloud and what she said silently in that spot over the years.


“I’ve not heard anything, before today… But I’ve seen you.”


“Why didn’t you…speak to me sooner?”


“I…couldn’t.” His eyes glanced to his headstone, she followed his gaze.


The date struck her for the first time. Today. She reached for him again, but he pulled away.


“I am glad you come. It’s … nice to know…” He shook his head. “There’s a lot more traffic on this road these days too. Especially early mornings.” He changed the subject, glancing at her. This was a mistake. He should never have talked to her and if he talked to her, he should have never told her. Was he hoping for disbelief? That she would think him a lunatic, leaving to never return.


“So, I was right… you did…care for me?” The question was awkward and bittersweet.


“Very much.” He whispered. Another mistake.


“Let’s dance.” She stood quickly, holding out her hand for him.


“So you want to dance on my grave?” He teased.


“Definitely.” She teased back.


“We can’t.”


She raised an eyebrow.


“There is no music.”


She tilted her head.


“What will people think if they see you?”


She rolled her eyes.


This was against his better judgment. He didn’t expect this from her. Yet as she stood, offering her hand, there was no way he could refuse.


He took it, allowing her to help him stand.


“I was never very good at this.” He stood, staring at the ground, his hand in hers. His hand, in hers.


“That’s not what I remember.” She smiled slipping her hands up to encircle his neck.


They moved in a slow, swaying circle to the music of summer. For a moment, time was meaningless. They were seventeen in a darkened gym. They were seventy in a well lit hall.


“Sarah…” He swallowed, reaching to remove her arms. “You should go.”


"Why?"


Hurt, confusion, and anger danced past her eyes. They stung, like darts thrown into his soul.


“It is dangerous… I should never have spoken to you…”


“How dare you.” Her anger spilt forth. “How dare you die. How dare you have wheedled your way into my heart. How dare you have let me come all this time, never to say… How dare you speak to me now.”


“You don’t understand.” His heat was breaking for the first time in life and death.


“Then explain it.” Small hands grasped his collar.


“I…”


“You can’t.” She took the words from his mouth. She released him, wrapping her arms around her self as if suddenly cold and turning from him. “Did you love me?”


The words hung in the air between them, fluttering like a butterfly. It was not what she meant to say, but what she needed to know.


“I love you still.”


She turned to him, then, taking a step closer. Her eyes bright with unshed tears.


“You should go Sarah. I’m sorry….” He whispered.


“I love you too.” She had loved him for years.


“You need to know. … One kiss and … you can’t go back.”


“Would that be so bad?” She asked looking up at him.


“Not for me.” He smiled, “but…”


Her lips met his before he finished his sentence.