“Hey, Cass.”

Cass swiveled her head just enough to affirm her guess that the person calling her name also owned the hand that had just landed on her shoulder.

Hello, Patrick.”  Breaking into a grin wide enough to advantageously display her costly cosmetic dental work, Cass momentarily panicked realizing that she shouldn’t have been able to instantly identify Patrick after forty years, and she wouldn’t have, except for the teensy fact that she had been spying on him for days now.  Rushing for a plausible, if untruthful, explanation she pointed to the name badge on Patrick’s shirt pocket and proclaimed, “Did I ever imagine when I was eighteen that we’d change so much over forty years that, without name tags, I wouldn’t even be able to identify the one that got away?”

Patrick slumped a little and slowly shook his head before reaching out and pulling Cass into an embrace.  They silently clung together too long to be comfortable for the others. Brenda, Cass’ closest friend and the only person who knew it all, laughingly pried them apart.

 “All right, break it up!  Break it up!  This isn’t one of those eighteen year-old-goo-goo-eyes-boy-girl parties, you know. This is a solemn gathering of senior citizens who have, surprisingly, survived into their sixth decade and are gathered together to compare their medications, surgeries and bowel movements.”   

Patrick and Cass joined in the laughter of those who had been standing around staring at the spectacle wondering if this just might be the resurrection of a romance they remembered well from its heyday.  Although many were eager to ask nosy questions and get to the bottom of this, that wasn’t possible.  Patrick draped his arm around Cass’ shoulders, and they strolled right out the front door leaving their frustrated classmates shut out with no recourse but to whisper and conjecture among themselves.

As they walked Patrick squeezed Cass’ shoulder and, gave her the once-over before declaring, “You still stop traffic, don’t you?  You look fabulous even though you look nothing like the girl I remember of forty years ago.”

 “I am nothing like the girl you remember from forty years ago.”  Cass locked eyes with Patrick.  “However, you look very much like that boy of long ago.  Still the same bedroom eyes, dimples and cleft chin.  Still dreamy.”  Cass grinned as she said that. “I had forgotten how tall you are though.”  

As everyone does when their height is mentioned, Patrick stood up a little taller.  “Yes, I was tall then and I am still tall not having become a stooped-over old man.”  Patrick winked at Cass and she gently elbowed him in the ribs.    

As if being moved forward by a remote controller, Patrick and Cass, arms around each others’ waists, ambled through the parking lot of the country club, past the marquee announcing the high school reunion, and down the country lane to the legendary lakeside pizza place where it all began for them.

It was as though no time at all had elapsed since that first summer when Cass was going to be a senior in high school and Patrick was home for the summer after his sophomore year in college.  They’d started goofing around while they worked waiting tables and that led to after work rendezvous sneaking down the beach in seclusion to smoke cigarettes and talk about everything that was part of their 1960s hippie world.   

Cass thought Patrick was the smartest person in the whole-wide world.   Patrick thought Cass was the funniest, most insightful person in the whole wide world.  They both thought the other was the best looking, sexiest person alive. Soon the talking and the smoking soirees added another dimension - hot and heavy make-out sessions.

They became inseparable.  In the fall Patrick went back to college and came home almost every weekend.  He was at all the home games that Cass cheered and he took her to the homecoming bonfire and dance and the prom.  The other students, boys and girls, were envious and every dating couple aspired to be just like Cass and Patrick.     

When Cass graduated from high school she and Patrick spent that summer just as they always had - serving pizzas and sneaking off together.  In the fall, they went away to their respective colleges, Cass as a freshman and Patrick as a senior, with a calendar marked off week by week with where and when they would get together for their weekends and college breaks.   Cass was at Patrick’s college graduation and they decided together which job Patrick should take so that they could be together while Cass finished college before they got married.

Summertime and the living was easy once again back at the pizza place until the day Patrick disappeared.  One day led to two days.  Worried to the point of hives, Cass called his house so often Patrick’s sister and mother were downright annoyed.  Repeatedly asking if anyone had heard from him, she was always told the same thing – he said he needed to take care of something and not to worry; he would be back as soon as he could. 

On the third day, Patrick came back.  He showed up about fifteen  minutes before Cass was due to get off work and told her he would wait for her at their hidden spot on the beach.  As he left, with Cass staring at his back, her gut told her that something shattering had happened, and she was so nervous she had a hard time not upending the pizza pie plates she was delivering.  Finally finished, she raced to their little nest so fast that she was out of breath when she got there.  Patrick was sitting cross-legged on the ground smoking and Cass collapsed to her knees in front of him reaching out to pull him to her.  Patrick reared back and pushed her away.

Still on her knees, Cass covered her mouth with a trembling hand when Patrick told her that he had been away tending to business around his upcoming marriage just two weeks away.  He went so far as to pull the ring in its box from his pocket and ask Cass if she thought it would be okay.  He said he’d gotten it at a pawn shop.  Cass really didn’t remember too much else that he said because she mentally detached when he told her that he didn’t want to discuss the woman he was marrying or anything about the circumstances leading to the marriage but, he did want Cass to know that he would be moving far away and that he was pretty sure he would never see her again.   

Finished talking, Patrick rigidly got up, turned his back and walked away leaving Cass still on the ground.  Some time went by before Cass began to sob so hard she was choking.  Her sobbing continued long enough that her eyes swelled shut.  Wiping her running nose with her shirt hem, she lay down on the sand and eventually fell asleep awaking when the sun came up the next morning.

From that day no one in her hometown saw Cass for the next twenty years.  She returned, to much fanfare, for her twenty-fifth high school reunion.  Patrick was never mentioned.   Cass tried to pretend that all the gushing over her was just excitement to see her back rather than the star-struck behavior she encountered so often now.  After that reunion she hadn’t seen the need to return to her hometown again until, during the course of a long conversation a few months ago, Brenda told Cass that Patrick was back in town, back in town in a permanent way.  He bought a place on the lake just three lots away from the pizza haunt where he lived alone year round with his Irish Wolfhound.    Brenda also mentioned that sadly Patrick was mostly given the cold-shoulder by the old crowd who never forgave him for breaking Cass’ heart.

As if they were reading each other’s minds when they neared their old spot in the bushes on the edge of the beach, where they routinely stopped to light their cigarettes, they both spoke at the same time asking when the other quit smoking.  Laughing aloud at their conjoined thoughts, Patrick said that he had stopped smoking after his hippie days ended in the 60s.  Cass didn’t answer for herself right away as she mulled over his statement about his hippie days ending.

“I didn’t quit until I had been smoking thirty-nine years.  In fact, that is why I quit.  I couldn’t imagine saying that I had smoked forty years, just like I couldn’t imagine that we wouldn’t see each other for forty years.”  Cass wanly smiled as she looked at Patrick’s downcast face. 

Patrick said nothing for so long that Cass was getting fidgety and was just about to break the interminable silence when Patrick gestured to her to sit down on one of a circle of lawn chairs that, these days, inhabited their former private corner of the beach.  Cass sat in one and Patrick grabbed another one and put it directly across from Cass before he fell into it.

“Cass, I am going to begin at the end and I am going to leave out huge swaths of the story for a number of reasons not the least of which is I don’t remember huge swaths of the story.”

Cass leaned forward attentively, rested her elbows on her legs and her cheeks on her hands all settled for Patrick’s story.  Patrick looked straight into Cass’ eyes as she knew he would because whatever he chose to tell her it would be the truth. 

“I killed her.” 

Patrick made that revelation as unemotionally as he would have declared that it was time to watch the news.  Waiting before proceeding, he studied Cass’ face for her reaction but other than quickly raising her eyebrows and then returning to her blank expression, there were no clues as to Cass’ thoughts.

“It took me twenty-five years to do it and, believe me, almost every day of those twenty-five years I came close to it.”

Patrick passively continued reminding Cass of the patients in a mental hospital who have been sedated until their emotions no longer exist.  He had folded his hands in his lap and he looked at them as he talked.

I’d have her committed and get down on my knees and beg God to make it stick this time.  ‘This time, God, have them make the correct diagnosis.  This time, God, throw away the key.  Keep her away from me forever and ever, God.  I can’t take it anymore.’ But that never happened.   One night I would come home and she would open the door for me and I would be so frightened and so disappointed that I often just broke down.  She interpreted that as my relief that she was home again and she would vow that this time she would stay rational and calm and I’d see. 

 “And I did see.  Alcohol enhanced demonic rages, destruction, brutality, slashing herself and whoring.”

 Cass was thinking that she hadn’t wanted a cigarette as badly as she wanted one now for years and years.  Her heart was aching for Patrick as he continued to speak softly and deliberately and stare at his hands.

“I finally came to sleeping on the closet floor in a spare bedroom with the door barred shut from the inside after waking one night to find her standing over me with a gun in her hands pointed at my head.  When I realized that I still didn’t feel safe and I was becoming more and more unstable myself due to piling on lack of sleep to the craziness going on, I finally walked out.  I got a restraining order and filed for divorce.

 “She made hideous scenes at my shop but everyone there knew her and they would call the cops and have them come and throw her out for trespassing.  I knew she would hunt me down there so I parked my car three blocks away and started working nights instead of days.  It never mattered to me if I was up all day or up all night so that was no sacrifice.  I would come to the shop about the same time the handful of people who worked for me were leaving.  It worked just fine.  I was living in a ritzy downtown apartment one of my clients had vacant and I would go home to peace, Eggs Benedict and a Bloody Mary.  I truly did not know how bad off I was until I started to come back to normal.”

Cass found herself smiling at the mention of the Eggs Benedict.  She had forgotten how much Patrick loved to cook and how good he was at it.  It was heartening to know that some of the things she remembered about him were still part of him.

 “Well, it was too good to be true, of course.  On a beautiful spring morning with the birds chirping and the daffodils blooming, I was soaking up every particle of the beauty of the moment after leaving work.  I am sure I was whistling.” 

 Patrick stopped and looked up and grinned at Cass after saying that.

 “I’m sure you were, Patrick.  And you were probably whistling Spring Fever by Elvis Presley.” 

Cass started laughing and Patrick joined her as they once again shared memories.  Patrick whistled a lot and Cass loved to hear him whistle.  On many occasions Cass would ask Patrick to whistle for her.  Most of her requests were songs recorded by Elvis.  Their laughter and Patrick’s whistling made Cass feel so bad for all those lost years.

Patrick went back to his statue position and resumed looking at his hands in his lap as he continued telling the tale of that beautiful spring morning. 

 "Walking up to the car I unlocked the door by pressing the tab on the keychain.  That was the signal she was waiting for.  Just as I was approaching the driver’s door she threw open the door and jumped out of the car shrieking.  She had a gun in her hands but she was so off-kilter that she couldn’t get it aimed and she fired a bullet that went straight into the ground.  That made her even madder and she lunged at me.  I slapped her face with all my might which was enough to distract her and then went for the gun.  Do you know it is true what they say about crazy people having the strength of ten people?  We wrestled and tugged for that gun and finally I wrenched it out of her hands and just emptied it into her.  One shot after another until there weren’t any more bullets.  I kept shooting after she fell on the ground dead.  I just couldn’t shoot her enough times.

 “While I was still shooting her I heard sirens wailing.  I learned later that the people who lived in the house I parked in front of everyday, had seen her skulking around for a few days and that they jumped to when they heard the shrieking start that morning and called 911 immediately.” 

 Taking a deep breath, Patrick took my hands and held them in his.  He was looking into my eyes with a sad gaze and shaking his head from side to side.

“Cass, I was a mess.  I went away to a private mental hospital for a long time.  The sun finally started coming out for me again because I had been encouraged, no, not encouraged, forced to write down all my ugly memories.  With the help of a great editor the story got made into a book and the book eventually was made into a movie.  You should see the movie, Cass, if you want to know more, particularly about the early years, the years around the time that I broke your heart and stepped into a life of insanity.”

 Cass just smiled and said nothing. 

“So that is where my journey took me after I left you on your knees in this place on the beach forty some years ago to do the honorable thing and marry the woman who said she was pregnant with my child, and could have been, but wasn’t really pregnant at all, just crazy.

 When I got well I thought about this place, and you, of course, and I came back for a visit.  All of the wonderful time I spent here with you made me so sad and so happy.  I actually bought the house with the pipe-dream that maybe we could pick up the pieces.   I didn’t try to find you because somehow that left a bad taste in my mouth.  I think that has more to do with being stalked by her than anything to do with you.  Anyway, when Brenda told me that you were coming back for the reunion I was ecstatic!  I knew I was not going to lose any time trying to woo you back!”

Cass chuckled and Patrick hugged her.

“So, what do you think?”  Patrick cupped Cass’ cheeks with his hands as he grinned at her.

“I think I want to think.”  Cass responded nodding her head up and down.  “But to be able to think better I think we should go get a pizza and a pitcher of beer and check out the caliber of the summer help these days.”

And that is what they did.

 “Hi, Brenda.”

“Hi, Cass.”

“I talked to Patrick this morning and he said that you told him before leaving town that there was no chance of the two of you getting back together.”

 Yes, that is what I said.  Maybe there was a time for us but it’s not now.  He’s a fabulous guy and I’m so glad we reconnected but lovers we will never be.   By the way Brenda, Patrick thought, from the way you told him the news of my coming back for the reunion, that I made that decision before I knew that he was back at the lake.  So, thanks for that.  I don’t think he would feel any better about my decision if he had known that I came back not only for the reunion but days early so I could follow him around.   I’m so glad I did it though as that led me to make the right decision.  

 “Well, I’m sorry, Cass.  I know that everyone who saw you together at the reunion had their fingers crossed.”

“Thanks, Brenda.  It was great for me to be with him again.  I remembered why I was head-over- heels in spades.”

Cass poured herself a Jack Daniels on the rocks and carried it with her as she jitterbugged around her house and lawn, and swimming pool and tennis courts and flower gardens and stopped to stare at the crashing waves on the beach below her house while the top drawer sound system serenaded her with Elvis Presley’s Greatest Hits.  Then, just to prove it was real, she made the entire trip again including the screening room and the secret library she’d had installed on the mezzanine. 

Pouring another Jack, Cass slithered like an old time screen star into the screening room where she sat staring into space lost in thought before she pushed the controls.

Cass had a mental conversation with Patrick and she explained everything to him right there in her head.

 Patrick, I came in under cover of darkness to see for myself who you are forty years’ later.  Here is what I learned:  You are the epitome of grace, class and good taste.  Although that was all budding back then you have honed it to perfection.   I love your house and your handcrafted tables and chairs and desks and chests.  They are all museum quality and I am so glad that your artistic talent took you to working with wood.   I love your dog too.  I love that he is untethered and has the run of the place but minds his manners.  

I love your character.  I watched you interact with grocery clerks and the garbage man and the little kids from next door.   I saw you take that old woman to her doctor and help her in and out of the car and patiently wait for her. 

I love your zest for life.  I heard you singing and whistling as you went through your days.  I saw you swim and kayak and ride your bike. I watched you grill steaks and make an apple pie. It was humorous to see women flirt with you while I was lurking unseen because you are dreamy.  It was heartening to see you treat them with such respect and yet move on.

 When you said you quit smoking after your hippie days were over, that’s not really true, Patrick.  The hippie in you lives on.  Dressed up some but still there.  That is where we begin to fall apart.  You see you are blissfully living on a beautiful blue lake in a small town in a state with four sincere seasons, crafting wood projects in your backyard studio.  You have it all right there.  Well, as much as I could live there for a month or two every year, it is not all right there for me.  I would be unhappy and that would make you unhappy. 

It’s probably unfair not to have told you this in any way except in this conversation we are having in my head but it is the only way you are going to hear it from me.   I didn’t have a reaction to your story about her because I have known about her and what she did to you for years.  And, do you know how I knew?  You told me. 

Patrick, I work in Hollywood.  I am one of those.  If you had looked for me you could have found me right there in our hometown movie theater.  I’m a producer.  People tell me about books and screenplays that should be made into movies and they want my money so they can turn those books and screenplays into movies.  Someone brought me a book a number of years ago and that book grabbed me.  It was the story of a mad woman and the man she desperately loved and how she made his life horrific trying to hang onto him.  The author was you, Patrick.  So, when you said I should see the movie if I wanted to know more, I did better than that.  Just like you, Patrick, I began at the end.  I made the damn movie.