Four Years Gone, One Weekend to Find Us
By Dani Lovera Teixeira
It was Friday morning, before the August Bank Holiday, when you called me to ask me about my plans that night. I was confused and distracted. I knew you were asking for a reason but I couldn’t stop thinking how long it had been since we last saw each other. I refrained from saying that so I settled on “I have dinner plans with some friends. - I paused - I'm free the rest of the weekend”. I added that to let you know I would make time for you.
Little did I know that weekend was going to stay with me forever. You failed to tell me, during our phone call, that for the first time in four years you were back in our hometown, for good.
At 7 pm that evening I met my friends in town. We hadn’t seen each other in a while. Summer holidays and all that. The meal went long. We were all laughing out loud and talking, stretching the time to order dessert.
Our table was on the opposite side of the front door. I was sitting with my back to it. I was engaged in the conversation around me, when I felt a weird anticipation in my stomach. My body knew something else was going on, I couldn't ignore the feeling for long.
I heard your laugh first, your perfume was a close second. Even from afar I could smell your hair and your skin. I turned my head to the door and saw you walk in. I froze. I looked for you through the crowd and you found my gaze like a magnet.
I got nervous and my mind was rushing. My friends have only heard of you but never met you and likewise, I haven't met any of yours. From behind you, like an out of focus shot, I saw their piercing eyes staring back at me. They knew who I was and why you were there.
Your body turned when we locked eyes. Your smile was bright and without hesitation you started to walk in my direction. I was so stunned and overcome with joy that I barely managed to say “excuse me” to the people around me. I stood quickly but couldn't move. I kept looking at you. Smiling, happy to see me, moving forward.
A little taken aback, my friend Amy tried to follow my abrupt reaction. I held her hand and squeezed, as hard as I could, so she'd know it was you. She understood and very kindly patted me on the side of my leg so I would move. Finally I did and met you 3/4 of the way. I wanted to say hi before introducing you to anyone. Amy kept her sight on us, alert, waiting.
My heart was beating in my mouth. Your long hair was bouncing to the rhythm of your walk. The noise of the busy restaurant went mute. My smile was wide and as I shook my head in disbelief, I pinched myself, it was you walking towards me, like no one else was around. We mouthed “Hi” to each other, stretched our arms and we hugged. You wrapped your arms on top of my shoulders and I held you tight by the waist. Your hair was down and so was mine and as it has been in the past we quickly built our little shelter underneath it to sneak a peck on the neck. The softness of your skin and the smell of your skin transported me back to stolen afternoons in the back seat of your car listening to Fiona Apple and Amy Whinehouse.
We held hands and smiled at each other. For a fraction it was just us. Then my brain played that questioning voice I was too familiar with “is everyone looking at us?” I snapped back at that voice: “I really don’t care, let them watch”. The only thing that mattered is that 4 years passed and we were finally face to face.
I lost the capacity to put sentences together, I didn’t know what to say “I'm thrilled to see you" I chose. You smiled so big I was blinded. Took my hands to your lips, kissed them and let them go at last.
Like a woman on a mission you said suddenly. “I'm ordering drinks for everyone at my table, come to the bar with me”. You acknowledged the stare coming from behind me, as if to say to my friend Amy, “I'm taking her for a moment”. I had forgotten there were other people around us. I turned to her and mouthed “it's Ok”. I felt swooned. We walked to the bar, holding each other by the waist so closely I could feel on my lips the air around yours.