Story Board

Was sitting at the bar, staring into a bowl of half eaten, mostly melted dessert, still waiting. I had been there nearly an hour, and not even a phone call. Pride wasn't just messing with me, it was winning. I wasn't going to call her, this was something she initiated. If this is how it would --



"Mark! Sorry about that," she said breathlessly. "Had run my Aunt to the drugstore before I could get out, you want to get us a table?"



Slowly, I got up from my stool. My head was in a fog of thoughts, trying hard not to get lost in them. Focusing on what I wanted, and what I wanted to say. After talking things out with Russ, I had begun to stop 'hoping for', and started to do what I thought was best. I was quickly finding out, that 'it wasn't me'. Not the next big thing boxing, not the scholar-athlete, and probably not the one for Sandie.



The hostess led us to a booth against the far wall from the bar, near the takeaway window. I sat down with my back to the restaurant, facing the wall, and Sandie.



"You would think that for an athlete, you would eat something other than sweets," she critiqued as she slid into the booth. My chocolate thunder was a nice gooey mess, with the vanilla ice cream smeared over the brownie.



"And here I am thinking that someone who has known me as long as you have would know better than to say something like that to me."



"What's that thing ... 'garbage in, garbage out?"

"That is what all those miles out in the dark of the morning are for. Anyway, what has had you so busy that you couldn't give me a call?" And that is when my eyes caught her left hand ... there was a sparkle, and that is when the weight of everything broke me.

"At first, I thought it was me, ducking you. I let getting ready for the fight and the recovery act as justification for me not bothering you. Meanwhile, you weren't concerned about what I was thinking at all, obviously. Nice."

She flushed, caught as she wasn't expecting me to pick up on her engagement ring. Or maybe I just beat her to it, and she couldn't ease into her conversation the way she wanted. Either way, I knew what this meant and my decision was made.

There was a chance I would stay in Kansas City. Had enough credits to call myself a 'junior' and it was a nice town. Close enough to Chicago without half of the mess, and if I just had to get a real taste of 'the hood', St. Louis was closer. That wasn't going to be enough. I had moved here, thinking that I had magically found my soul mate, and that we would grow to love and build a life together. Funny, it seems like something out of a movie script, me expecting Sandie to look at me and see years of marriage, children and grandchildren ...

... but I had never seen the movie where that happened. 'Forrest Gump' never did get Jenny, did he?

"You know, I love you," I said summoning all the composure and dignity I had.
"That is what you have said."
"No, I corrected. When I was in Detroit, and sending you emails and making phone calls, that is what I said. Once I moved here, it became something I DID."

Turning away, she sighed deeply. I squinted, hoping that my eyes weren't glistening. Mad, hurt, angry, even with the knowledge that I was coming from way off the lead. When you are running that hard, competing as fiercely as I was for her love, the distance didn't matter.

I was closing, but the race was nearly over as her ring signified that someone else had rounded the last turn, and was entering the stretch ... and all I could do was make sports analogies, eating a soggy brownine and melted ice cream ...

"So," I inhaled, "would you like to order?"