There he was after seven years, walking out the door of the store just as I was walking in. After a second of eye contact, but no words, we kept going. Speaking wouldn’t have been appropriate. Following behind him was the woman he unbeknownst to me was still in relationship with when we dated. 

Ten years ago, he invited me on a hike after we meet through friends. As we made our way, walking and non-stop talking around the picturesque Montana Lake Como, we both had a spring in our step as we discovered our commonalities, the youngest of our siblings, born the same year, each of us previously married with an only child and our love of the outdoors, movies, self-improvement, traveling, food, and coffee, the list kept going.

Lyle loved to buy me gifts during our two years together. Flowers were the first thing I saw when he showed up at the door. If I mentioned I wanted something, often he’d make it mine, the very expensive cooking skillet, the cushion for my car, a guitar, a bike, and pearls at Christmas.

“I’d like to design and build a house for us. How do you feel about an open floor plan?” he asked over dinner. I was all in. Even though I knew his ex- girlfriend called him often, he assured me they were just friends. She called as we were discussing an open floor plan. As he stepped into another room, I heard him tell her he was at a friend of his. That friend had a different name than mine.

I stared blankly at him as he told me, “I’m trying to find the right time to tell her about us.”

I was blind-sided when he announced after two years, he was moving to Bend, Oregon. He needed to clear his head, be alone. And that was that. We stayed in touch for a while and then didn’t.

We hadn’t exchanged calls or emails for six years when I swept past him in the store doorway. The day after I received his text, “Hi, I didn’t want to let the opportunity pass in acknowledgement of seeing you yesterday. Would love to meet you for a cup of coffee if you are up for it. I trust this note finds you well. You haven’t lost your glow.”

Over coffee, he made a sincere apology for his dishonestly in the past, about still being involved with his ex-girlfriend. They have moved on, she is with someone else now, but they remain friends. I knew he was telling the truth this time. We picked right up where we left off, both curious about each other’s lives. He had recently moved back to Montana.

Christmas was only a week away. He asked if I’d like to spend Christmas eve together, offering to cook dinner at my place, just like we used to do. It took two trips for him to bring in presents, dinner and flowers. Settling in on the couch after dinner, the presents piled on the coffee table, I thought back to my childhood, the excitement of opening my pile of presents that were stacked high. The next day feeling the letdown — knowing this was my parents way of making up for what they never could give what I really wanted, their love and attention.
I thanked Lyle for the socks, the shirts, the headlamp, and the massager.
For the next few months, we went to dinner, movies, coffee, live music and drives to lakes and mountains as friends. It was fun to have someone to do things with.

On a cold winter Sunday, I lazed around, reading, writing, finally taking a shower in the afternoon for our movie date. An hour after he was supposed to pick me up the phone rang, “Well I guess we won’t be going to the movie.” he laughed, “I was running late and forgot to take my phone with me.” I waited, he never apologized. Other times, he ran late and never called or texted to let me know.

When we did go to the movie, without asking he’d put his hand on my neck, massaging, the pressure was hard, uncomfortable. It felt intrusive. The times he didn’t follow through with promises of helping with a home repair, sending a web link, or not calling when he said he would, began to feel dismissive. Even though we enjoyed doing many of the same things and it was nice to have a playmate, I began to question if I could continue.

Wisdom comes with age or maybe the loss of hormones helps us see clearly, not be blinded by physical attraction. When he confessed, he was still physically attracted to me, this time as the red flags waved, I saw them.

The massager sat on a table unopened. Knowing I would never use it, I returned it to Costco and used the credit to fill my car with gas. 

-Frances Scott

Frances Scott lives in Missoula, MT writing essays and memoir. She is a professional pet sitter, the perfect compliment to her writing life. When she isn't writing, reading, or caring for pets, she loves to explore the outdoors, hiking or floating the river. Her essays can be found in Next Avenue, The Insider and Visible Magazine.