A woman entered in a refined suit ensemble; a skirt short enough to get attention but long enough not to get the wrong sort, and a jacket that gives her a smart, professional appearance while still flattering her natural curves. The ensemble was embroidered with an odd ivy pattern; elegant enough to fit the suit but different enough to completely set it apart from like ensembles. She wears an antique broach that she picked up for a dollar ninety-nine at a thrift store that everyone assumes is a very expensive piece from a hoity-toity jewelry shop. She always corrects them; they never believe her. Her heels and her subtly painted toenails finished off her polished look, yet somehow they didn’t fit her step. She always had a peculiar way of walking; daintily yet determinedly. Everything about her, from her wardrobe to her mannerisms to her personality had a sense of duality. The people around her never really could figure her out…other than they were sure that despite all of her contrasting traits she was never two-faced. It was just another anomaly to her that she tried to be perfectly upfront with everyone but still managed to be more enigmatic than normal people, despite her efforts to the contrary.

She was about twenty-seven and 5 and a half months. She slowly approached the table of a gentleman, just slightly older than she, who sat with his back to her. He was watching for her in the exact opposite direction. She smirked to herself for two reasons. The first was because he was wearing a smart-looking suit. She would have been less surprised if the man was sitting there in his birthday suit rather than the gray pinstripe he was currently sporting. He always looked smart, mind you, but suits…didn’t suit him. He was too funny, too easy going for a serious suit like that. The second reason was because she found it ironic that he didn’t spot her coming in to the café considering that he could see both the entrance doors and the street she crossed to get there from his table on the café’s outdoor patio. Then again, he never seemed the most observant person in the world, or at least not to her. She was just about to greet him when—

“Hello there,” he said, setting down his coffee cup, rising from his chair, and turning to meet her. She smiled at him and gave him a quick embrace. “Hello, Jack. It’s good to see you.”

“And it’s wonderful to see you too, Christie,” he said, giving her a quick glance-over. “You look as lovely as ever.”

“As do you,” she replied. The suit still seemed out of place on him, but he did look very sharp. “But how did you know it was me?”

“I heard your footsteps,” he responded.

She eye browed him questioningly. “You still have that same walk you’ve always had. You have a very heavy step to you, you know, despite how delicately you try to walk,” he explained, glancing down at her feet, “Especially when you’re wearing heels.”

She didn’t know exactly what to make of this. Should she insulted that she apparently makes a thunderous, earthshaking sound whenever she steps down or flattered that he noticed how she walks at all? She chose neither option. Instead she was humbled after she realized that, in either case, he was more observant than she gave him credit for.

“Please sit,” he said, pulling out the chair across from his own in a florid one-handed movement. She smirked to herself again. Only Jack could look suave by pulling out a two-pound, empty chair as if it was some great feat. “Thank you,” she replied as he pushed her chair closer to the table.

“And thank you for meeting me. It really is wonderful to see you after, what? 7 years is it?” he said, reclaiming his own seat.

“Almost eight, I think. But why didn’t you just come to the class reunion like everyone else if you wanted to see me?” she chuckled.

“You of all people should know perfectly well that I try not to be like everyone else. Besides, you were really the only person I wanted to see anyways. Mitchell informed me of the success and regress of everyone else I was remotely curious about. I didn’t really see the point in going just to make a half-ass attempt at summoning up nostalgia for a time and a place that I spent most of my energies trying to ignore. Any of the people there who I might of cared to see I see occasionally anyways…except you. Besides, high school reunions only try to re-establish the same social Darwinism that plagued our school days. Who succeeded….who didn’t? I’m above that “popularity contest” mentality.”

“Yes…Mitch told me you were divorced,” she teased.

He chuckled, “Ha, well, yes that would be another reason why I didn’t go. I would feel so…dumb…going to our 10 yearer saying ‘Yes, I’ve been happily divorced for a year now. Aren’t I a success story?’”

“Trust me, you weren’t the only divorcée there. Robin Linson’s marriage lasted less than a year. She one gag prize for having the shortest lived marriage. Besides, I think people would be more shocked that you, Jack Healey, the great Casanova of Claremont High, ever got hitched at all.”

“Well, what is it you used to say? Ah yes, ‘Jack, the day you get married is the day you break at thousand hearts.’ Or…something like that.”

Christie smirked again and sniggered, “Uhuh, that’s exactly what it was. I’m sure.”

“Wasn’t it?” Jack replied in a tone of mock innocence.

“No. I believe it was, ‘Jack the day you get married is the day you break a thousand hearts…from laughter.’ I know my heart almost ruptured from a fit of hysterics when I got your wedding invitation in the mail after not hearing from you for God knows how long. I checked the envelope to make sure it wasn’t postmarked April 1st even though it arrived in the middle of June; I was so sure it was a prank.”

“Oh, is that why you didn’t make it to the ceremony? Because you thought it was a joke?”

“Of course not. You know I would have gone, but that was closing week of our play. I couldn’t possibly miss my last performances after a month-long run,” she replied meekly.

In actuality, Jack’s wedding was held the week after Christie’s closing performance. Christie however, had told herself enough that it was during the same time-frame that she had managed to block out the fact that she simply did not want to go to Jack’s wedding. She knew that the oncoming stress of post-play depression coupled with all of the feelings aroused within her regarding “the marriage of Mr. Jack Healey to Miss Jenny Thomas” would be far too much to handle. Well, that and the fact that the wedding was in Hawaii and she did not have the financial resources to fly there with only four week’s notice.

“Yes, I thought you made a fabulous Rosalind, by the way. Though I must admit I. thought was type-casting to put you as a witty, pretty, strong-headed female,” Jack replied, trying to wrack his brain about the playbill. He was sure he remembered being excited that the play’s run would be over in time for Christie to make it to his wedding, if there was going to be a wedding…but he must have misread the date in the program.

“You saw my ‘As You Like It’?! Well, why didn’t you ever come say ‘Hi’ to me backstage?”

Jack looked at her curiously. “Well, uh… Jenny was tired and wanted to get back to the hotel. I kept nudging her awake whenever you were onstage, but she didn’t understand what was going on. I eventually just let her sleep because whenever she was awake she’d always ask stupid questions like, ‘Okay, explain to me…why is she dressed as a man?’ or ‘Why is that depressing guy rambling on about stages of life and stuff?” I would try to explain it to her but she’d always just shut me out saying, ‘Oh, you know I don’t understand this Shakespeare-ese crap.’ So, I had to get her to bed and we had to get back on the road early in the morning, anyways,” he paused, “But I had an usher deliver you a red rose with a note—a note from me-- tied to it with a bit of ribbon. Didn’t you get it? I tipped the damn usher 10 bucks to get it to you.”

“Oh, I got it alright. In fact I have it laying on my top bookshelf.”

“Well then, why didn’t you—“

“--- but the only trouble was, the note itself wasn’t on it.”

“It wasn’t? Are you sure?” Jack asked with a suddenly antsy expression.

“Of course I’m sure. All I got was a red rose with a little black ribbon. I just thought it was one of my friends teasing me for singing Phantom of the Opera when I was stressed during rehearsals. Well…that would explain why no one ever owned up to it. You’ve taken a load off my mind, I was beginning to think I had a stalker,” she laughed...then blushed.

Jack was really sweet to send her a rose, and she couldn’t believe that he managed to make it to her play when he was so…ugh…busy making final arrangements for his wedding. Yep. Yep. Yep. It must have been something for Jack to watch her speaking “Shakespeare-ese” and no doubt shaking the entire theatre with her loud elephant-like walking, his rose in hand just waiting to be passed off to an usher because he had to get Sleeping Beauty back to their hotel…oh, yes indeed. She blushed from embarrassment now. Well, there’s only one way that her vision of him sitting there could make her more uncomfortable…

“Oh, by the way, I found your corset string unraveling in the middle of your monologue thoroughly amusing. Pity they didn’t have bras in Shakespeare’s day eh?”

….and that was it. He was there the night when she practically flashed the entire audience. Lovely. Just lovely.

“Well, you know, it’s those crazy things that make live theatre fun,” she replied, trying to regain her composure, “At least I had my blouse on underneath.”

He chuckled, “Yes. Hey, don’t worry; I thought you carried it off with perfect dignity. And you know, the next scene you were the she-male anyways, so it was kinda like you were just preparing for that. It actually helped Jenny make sense of it. The next scene she turns to me and says, ‘Okay… so she’s pretending to be a man now right? That’s why she took off her corset last time right?’” He paused, thinking of the misplaced note, “…Ah, deep down, I knew then that it wasn’t going to work out.”

“Well then, why did you marry her?” she asked, “Uh…if you don’t mind my asking.”

“Well, I proposed to her because she said she was pregnant, and despite what everyone thought to the contrary, I didn’t want to be a dead-beat-dad.”

“I see,” Christie replied curtly.

“It turned out to be a false alarm. But she seemed so happy planning the whole thing, running around trying on 50,000 wedding dresses. She was really cute, you know? Sorta reminded me of a life-sized Barbie. I mean, how could I call it off?”

“Well, if you don’t mind me saying so, that probably wasn’t the best foundation of a marriage.”

“It wasn’t. She was nearly 4 years younger than me. Hell, I first spotted her when she was celebrating her 21st at some bar with her friends. She was always used to acting like a princess. She started out as Daddy’s Princess and went practically straight into being my little Princess. I’ll be the first to admit our relationship was superficial. But hey, you live and learn right?”

“Well, what happened? I mean, did you just realize you weren’t compatible or something?”

“Infidelity happened,” Jack said bluntly.

“Jack, Jack, Jack. What are we going to do with you?”

“Actually it was Jenny, Jenny, Jenny. She was the one who had the affair.”

“Are you sure that’s not a case of the pot calling the kettle black?” she teased.

“You think the worst of me, don’t you?”

“Oh, Jack, of course not. Sorry, I thought you realized I was teasing you.”

“I did…I just wanted to tease you back. You’re too witty for platitudes and hackneyed phrases about kettles, you know.”

“A platitude is a hackneyed phrase. You’re too witty for redundancies.”

“Ha, you got me there. Well, in any case, to answer your previous question, no. I was faithful the entire marriage. I mean, I’ll admit there were times I thought about having a bit on the side, I think everyone does at one point or another…but since I was such a, Casanova, did you say? before my marriage, I wanted to make a genuine effort at staying true to my wife during it.”

“Well, I’m sorry that she didn’t care to show you the same respect.”

“Ah, I shoulda seen it coming. She was too young for marriage. I married her at a time when normal girls her age are in the college party lifestyle. They sleep around and jump from boyfriend to boyfriend. Hell, I of all people shoulda realized it. I was certainly always more than willing to catch them if they jumped in my direction. And my marriage wasn’t a total disaster. We had a little boy together, named him Carson. Probably the best thing that ever happened to me and her. It was after we had him that we realized how unprepared we were for, well, our entire relationship. I married her after only knowing her for nine months. We had our kid a year later and divorced nearly a year after that. But I’m glad for the whole ordeal, especially for Carson. Knocked some sense into me, I suppose.”

She smiled and said, “So how does it feel to be a father?”

“Great,” he replied. “Especially, since after I moved out I didn’t have to put up with the kid’s diapers. Ha, but seriously, it’s nice. He’s a cute kid.”

“He’d have to be,” Christie replied with a wink.

Jack smiled and said, “Well, enough about me. I wanted to hear about you. What have you been up to?”

“I just finished my Master’s program over in England.”

“England huh? Was it nice there?”

“Very. I got to study in one of the most renowned theatre arts programs in the world. It was thrilling, every moment. I loved it there. It was amazing to stay in the theatrical hubbub of the world for a while.”

“Well, I’m glad that you had the opportunity to study there. Sounds wonderful. We all knew that you would be the one who would seize every chance to follow your passion. So did you see all the sights while you were there? Did you harass one of those guard people in the dumb hats for me?”

She laughed, “Heh, well I dated one if that’s what you mean.”

“Really? I didn’t know they were permitted to have social lives. Heh, I’m joking of course. I just can’t picture you dating a military guy,” he replied.

“Why not? He was really down to earth, funny, smart, charming,” she smirked at him, “tall, dark, handsome, muscular, sexy accent---”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got the picture. Well if he was such a great guy why didn’t you stick with him, eh?”

“You know how the royal guards are really good at not moving, or like, blinking? Well, I got pissed because he beat me in a staring contest, so we broke up.”

“Uh…really?”

“No, of course not. I dunno. We just sort of decided to be friends. He didn’t understand my fascination with Shakespeare and cats. I didn’t understand his obsession with Cricket and Japanese food. I think we both knew our lives were on very different paths.”

“I see,” said Jack and afterwards there was a pregnant pause to the conversation.

Then Jack spoke again, “You know. You were always like that.”

“Like what?” Christie asked.

“On a very different path than everyone else,” he replied.

Christie didn’t really know how to respond so she used the standard failsafe:

“Um…what?” she asked.

“You have always seemed so…untouchable,” he elaborated.

“Oh…really? I always thought I was, uh, rather down to earth.”

“You are. You are a very sweet, generous woman. You always have been. You’re down to earth in the fact that you’ve never seemed to think yourself above anyone. You’re just you.”

“Well, thanks,” she replied, feeling increasingly awkward.

“It’s just that you being you only adds to your mystery.”

Christie laughed a little nervous laugh and said, “I’ve never thought myself mysterious.”

“Exactly. You are so humble but you of all people have the right to be proud. You dare to dream dreams bigger than any of us and then you won’t stop until you’ve achieved them. You refuse to settle for the ordinary because you truly are extraordinary, though you’d never admit to it,” Jack stated.

“No, I’m just stubborn,” she replied, “That’s all there is to it. Why should I work at some redundant desk job when I’d be having a much nicer time not burying my talents in someone else’s paperwork?”

“But see, most people would just accept the desk job because it is safe and easy. You’re not afraid to risk and somewhere inside of you there is a nest of confidence that all the rest of us can see. You’re strong enough to pursue what you want but wise enough to know you aren’t invincible.”

“Well, I used to say to myself, ‘If I fall from the sky at least I know what it felt like to fly.’ Felt it was a good enough replacement to the sadly cliché Carpe Diem.”

Jack chuckled, “It is. Bit Dr. Suessy but other than that it’s great. It’s funny how you make it sounds so simple.”

“But it is!”

“Only for you. That’s what makes you untouchable. You are in a different sphere of reality; one that the rest of us are too unworthy or too cowardly to enter. You hear some sort of music that we don’t or know some secret to life that you keep trying to teach us that we can’t comprehend. We instead can only marvel at you. Everyday you share your wit, your talent, your determination, and your beauty…and all we can do is wonder why you won’t let us be part of where all of that comes from.”

Christie looked down at the floor as a wave of emotions hit her at once: humility, confusion, and most of all, frustration. “What do you mean? How am I supposed to let you be a part of it?” She continued looking at anything but Jack while she tried to blink back the onset of tears. “It’s very frustrating…very…lonely, when no one else around you wants to change…I never asked to be ‘untouchable’, you know.”

Jack replied gently, “I know, but you are. You’re beautiful but untouchable. You're so hard to catch, like smoke. Someone grasps for you and you seep through their fingers. You're elusive. You're sexy like smoke is, the way it floats and saunters. But you’re always rising upwards, defying gravity and anything or anyone that would try to keep you where you are.”

“Well, I just refuse to get trapped in a cycle of cynicism that’s all. I hate people who are cynical.”

“You better watch it; that could probably be construed as a cynical statement,” Jack teased.

Christie gave a small snigger. “Well, people who constantly say ‘I can’t’ are agitating. They’re cynical because they hate their job or their house or their car but they won’t do anything about it because they’re so pessimistic that they think all the world will do is screw them over.”

“Damn. I was hoping you had gotten softer over the years and would give us cynics a break,” Jack chuckled.

“You aren’t a cynic…you just always think there’s an easy route.” She paused, “Besides, I didn’t think you could get softer than smoke. Doesn’t it just disappear then?”

Jack looked at her for a moment.

“Aha. It all makes sense now.” he replied with a mischievous grin.

Christie wasn’t going to take the bait, but Jack could tell by the expression on her face that she wanted to.

“You don’t want to be soft because you’re afraid that you’ll disappear all together. If you give cynics a break you worry that you’ll eventually lose your hard headed ideals and fall into the cycle yourself. That’s why you’re not invincible. Aha! I’ve got you all figured out now haven’t I? You big softy you.”

Admittedly, there was a lot of truth in what he said, but she wasn’t about to give in without teasing him for figuring it out. “Yep,” Christie said, “You’ve got me all figured out. I’m just a big cuddly teddy bear.”

“Good then. You won’t mind if I cuddle you.” Jack retorted, with a smirk of his own.

BAM! That one caught her completely off guard.

“What did you just-- I beg your...Ugh! Pervert.”

“’Pervert?’ Two unfinished sentences and ‘Pervert’ is all you can muster? Tisk, tisk, tisk. I’m disappointed…Besides, you’re blushing,” He teased.

That twit. She wasn’t about to lose the war of wits over one amusing proposal.

“Yeah, well…you’re certainly as arrogant as ever! You think you’ve got me all figured, but let me ask you this: Have you ever found what you’re looking for? Because ever since I can remember you were always searching for something you needed…in all the wrong places,” Christie said.

Aha! Checkmate. Jack had her now:

“You know what? Yeah, I did find what I was looking for... Trouble was it was always so damn untouchable!”

Christie just blinked perplexedly from across the table at Jack.

“I knew where to find it 4 years ago when in a fit of cold feet I wrote you a note that got lost by some pea-brained usher! It asked you to meet me in the restaurant of our hotel after your show. I needed you to knock some sense into me. I needed you to either A. assure me that I was just nervous and that marrying Jenny was the right decision. or B. remind me of how wonderful you are and how I couldn’t settle for something I deep down knew I didn’t want. But you never came. I felt you had seeped through my fingers for good.”

“Well,” Christie said, “had I come, it would have been option B.”

“I know it would have,” Jack replied.

And they each sat back in their seats and were silent for a moment; soaking all the information in through a series of airy laughs and small head shakes, as one generally does after realizing how cruel irony is. After another pregnant pause Jack eyed Christie from across the table and smirked. He retrieved a pen from his pocket and scrawled something down on a paper napkin. He then took the red rose from the vase of the café table, placed in upon the napkin and passed it to his partner, who after reading it, smirked back.