She looked really good. Still trim, and in good shape, still moves like dancer. Her hair is gold, and beautiful, but I suspect that is artificially enhanced. Peggy is my age. Almost exactly my age, in fact, which puts her at close on to sixty, one side or another.
She had two kids with her. Young kids, which looked just fine, until I thought about it. A seven year old boy, looked like, and a pre teen girl so cute you know she is gonna be trouble, and have trouble from it. Then I heard the boy call her grandma. Yeah. That kid grows up with a different take on Grandma. So, then I realized that made more sense than her having kids that age herself. Heck, my youngest is thirty this year.
So, I sat in my car, watching Peggy move, and laugh. They packed up the groceries, and got in the car, and drove away. And then I cried. You see, forty five years ago, I had a mad crush on Peggy. A near obsession, for all that no one but me ever knew about it. She was cute, she was hot, she was incredibly personable, and nice. She was even friendly to me. I was the kid from another school, and decidedly awkward. She was just herself. She was pretty popular, or looked that way from my rung on the social ladder.
She was famous, in a high school way. She had massive scars on her face. I have to put that in here, but the fact is that the scars didn’t much matter to anyone. She was beautiful, and she had scars. She was much more than beautiful, too. I won’t pretend that there was never an insensitive moron who could not see her, or that no one ever said anything intended to be cruel. But in fact, quite against the logic of teen life, no one listened to it when someone did. Being around Peggy was a deal. Everyone who had a chance, learned that.
I fell in love.
It’s embarrassing to even think about it. We walked together at Graduation, by alphabetic accident. I still remember every moment. Did I say, “Had a crush?” I can’t even begin explaining it all. Twenty years ago, I saw her, and we got together for a cup of coffee. I embarrassed myself horribly when I spoke with her. I was worse than a high school kid again. So I begged her pardon, asked her to forget about it all, and left.
I saw her today in the parking lot, and sat there being very careful not to cry, in case she noticed me. The she left. And then I cried.
Bye Peggy. Have a beautiful life, please.
Tris