I Never Even Knew His Name

This was written several years ago.  I changed it from 3rd person to 1st person because I liked it better.  If you find a missed change, let me know please.  It bears resemblance to a real life event, but names and critical information was changed for personal reasons.  And besides, I liked the story.  IF you read all the way through, I'd like your comments.

I never even knew his name.  He went by initials.  I asked, but he wouldn’t ever answer.  He told me his name was so weird that I would never guess in a million years, so, I, of course, had to try.

I grew up with Edward. 

No. 

One of my best friends had a brother named Earl. 

No. 

Maybe it was Elijah. That’s a good Bible name. 

No. 

It became an ongoing game which eventually turned affectionate.  But he wouldn't even give hints.

I dreamed of him one night: a frenzied, intense dream full of stress and desire.  I liked him the first time I met him; he treated me nice, like a colleague and not like brainless commodity.  Honor was not something I was accustomed to.  Most of the guys I worked around couldn't see past my figure.  “Sexy!”  It would have been okay if it hadn't sounded so much like “Hooker.”

On occasion, we had to attend various events together away from our respective towns.  I learned to like him a lot.  His sense of humor never left our conversation stale.  Our relationship was relaxed, casual, and yet often I would think of my dream and wonder. 

I met his wife once.  It was at a company Christmas party which I attended with my husband and Dianna was there with the two boys.  Dianna mostly sat on the side with the children while the party went on without them.  Feeling sorry for her while glad I had found a sitter for my own children, I approached the young woman – about my age – and struck up a conversation.  We didn’t talk about anything particular or personal and I finally wandered off to visit with others. Shortly after that, he and his wife bid an early ‘good evening’ to the host and departed with their two sons.  It was the only time we ever met.

Evert?

No. 

Elwin? 

Did you make that up?

Somewhere during a training seminar at a lovely mountain retreat, something happened.  We were playing table tennis.  I thought I was pretty good, yet he won every game.  I was determined to learn his tricks.

“No matter how good you get, you’ll never be able to beat me,” he insisted.  I watched his every movement.  We played until we were late for the next session.

“I left my materials in my room,” I informed him.  “You go on and I’ll get my stuff and be there in a few.  Take good notes.”

“I will.  I'll save a seat for you.”

“Okay.” 

Emmet?

No!

We spent the rest of our free time playing tennis.  When the three days were over, my game was even better but I still had not beaten him. 

That night, lying in my own bed in familiar if not pleasant surroundings, I dreamed of him again as I had before.  I was standing tall and straight in an entrance way to a large ball room dressed in a floor length red dress, waiting.  Suddenly he approached, took my hand and led me to the dance floor.  The room was empty and we danced alone until I woke.  As the day called me from sleep, I heard someone call his name, but I couldn't make it out and then the dream was gone.

He was away on a business trip for 2 weeks after the seminar.  This was not uncommon, but it seemed different this time.  I thought often of how he threw his arm about my shoulder so naturally during the meetings, how he walked me to my building each evening, always the gentleman.  He even tipped his hat with a smile and a soft “good night”.

Evan?

Nope.

I was in the break room when he came in.  “Hi, gorgeous,” he said simply.  “I see you’ve kept the place in order while I've been out.”

I rolled my eyes and plopped my tray down on the table beside him. 

Emmanuel?

NO!

In the months ahead, our relationship became comfortable.  We liked each other.  It was enough.  He had a wife and kids; I had a husband and kids.  We had it under control.  Yet, I looked for his smile each day and he gave it freely.  He playfully touched my hand or arm.  I got used to the feeling of his touch.  It wasn’t a bad thing.  We knew our limits.  We liked each other.

Elam?

No. 

Edwin? 

No.

The company we worked for participated in a holiday benefit.  We were stationed together.  It was hard work, yet the day flew by simply because we were together.  When we finished, our superior congratulated us. 

“Give yourselves a pat on the back.  We made more than any other organization for a single event this year.”

His exuberant hug was hard and long, rocking me back and forth.  Then he held me at arms length and said, “We did good, you and me.”

It wasn't until I got in the car to go home that I felt a twinge of guilt for enjoying it so much.  That night the dream returned.  But this time the dance was energetic and exhausting.  Each time his arms would encircle me, the dance move would break him away to leave me excited and yet empty.

My marriage relationship had been a roller-coaster of affairs and repentance on the part of my husband, yet I always felt a certain guilt at wanting to be with my friend.  We worked together; we had to be with each other.  I reasoned with myself that I had done nothing to betray my husband or family.

The company brainstorming retreat was a week long stay at a nice resort in a remote area.  Frequently spouses came along, for it was a lovely setting.  But once more my husband couldn't get off.  I would need to take my youngest with me.  She was very excited at going with mama and so we set off.  After finding our quarters, I dropped my daughter off at child care and looked up his cabin number.

He was on the porch when I got there. 

“Hey, Errol.”

“Noooo!”

“Dianna's not here.  She didn't want to bring the kids.”  It was a matter of fact statement with a twinge of bitterness.

“I've got Jen.  Rod had a business trip, sort of a last minute thing.”

“I have stuff to put together,” he said flatly.  “See you at supper?”

Edmond.

NO.

“Save me a spot?”

My game had been coming along nicely and I hoped to show him my ‘stuff’.  Jen was enjoying herself between the proactive childcare, the swimming pool and the tennis court.  He would take my hand easily as we walked.  His arm went casually, yet securely about my shoulder frequently.  I told myself emphatically, "we aren't doing anything wrong.  He's a demonstrative, affectionate person." 

After an evening brainstorming session in front of a warm fire, we stepped out into the cool air and he wrapped his arm about my shoulder more securely, taking the stance of a protector against the wind.  The head of the company was standing outside and nodded toward us with a stern and reserved smile.  We walked over and picked up Jen and then made our way toward the cabins.  As he turned to go, he brushed my forehead with his lips.

Eldon?

No.

The cool nights and warm days went by in a blaze of meetings, brainstorming sessions and instructional classes.  In between were games of table tennis, long walks about the finely kept grounds, or opportunities to play with Jen.  The fun and sharing became so comfortable and felt so right between us.  The name game reached a ridiculous level as I hunted for more and more names, further from the norm.  Then it happened.

We had just finished a very long, but productive session and the keynote speaker finished with “Tell someone you love them, tonight.”  For the first time, we left the large hall with an awkwardness between us.  We were walking through the dimly lit landscape to get Jen when he stopped right in the middle of the path.  He looked at me head on and said with very little emotion, “I love you.  There.  Plain and simple.  I love you.  I have for awhile but I just tried not to say it.  Tonight I realized there was no one else I wanted to say that to.”

My heart pounded hard.  I knew I loved him, but saying it would complicate things so much.  Now, not saying it would complicate things more.  Finally I breathed shakily, then quietly answered, “I love you too.” 

After picking up Jen, he walked with us, as usual, to the cabin.  But this time he kept some distance between us while laughing and joking much more than usual.  It seemed so strange to not have his arm about my shoulders, especially now.  When we reached the cabin, Jen bounded inside.  Quietly, without warning, he grabbed me and kissed my mouth.  Then without a word, he turned and left.

Elvis?

NOOO!

The next two days were filled with a kind of tension that kept us both from doing our best work.  He was more cautious than he had ever been with his affectionate displays and yet those private moments when he did display his affection were amazing.  Our games of table tennis were extreme.  He began coaching me harder, playing with more strength and skill, expending a huge amount of energy.  When we were with Jen, his attentions seemed to be focused completely on her.  She ate it up. 

I was a woman possessed.  I wanted to be with him every moment though I found that I was much more reserved in the public setting as well.  I could no longer tell myself we weren't doing anything wrong, but I tried to convince myself that my behavior was justified because of all the infidelity I endured from my spouse.  Moment by moment my desire for him grew.  On the second afternoon, we skipped the main session and went for a long walk.

The air was warm, but had a hint of change.   When we got a ways down the trail from the resort, we both felt the tension building.  Finally we stopped our almost frantic escape pace and flew into each other.  He held me close and I melted against his body. 

We stood, locked in that embrace with the power of all of life coursing through us, pressed tight in a cocoon of need and want.  I began to sob.  “This can't be wrong.  It just can't be.”  

His reply was a kiss that made my knees weak and my need grow even stronger.  For what seemed an eternal loop we stood, pressed together, desire coursing through us, pounding in our ears.  We could each feel the other’s heartbeat in sync with our own.  It was as though we knew that if we broke apart it would be forever.  If our lips left each other, they could never return.  Finally he let go and stepped away, leaving me sobbing uncontrollably.  “But it is wrong,” he whispered. “Isn't it?”

Our friendship had grown so deep that no explanation for our decision was necessary.  The desire for that physical union was still strong, yet we knew it would never be right.  It didn't really matter what my husband had done.  It didn't really matter what his wife had not done.  It would violate everything we believed in and valued.  Most of all, we would be violating each other.  After a few moments I began to breathe again and we eventually turned without words and made our way back down the trail to the resort.

We sat together at dinner.  It really seemed a little awkward, though Jen teased and played, masking our pain and loss.  At the evenings brainstorming session, we sat together as we had done for so long, but our energy was completely spent. 

My friend Evelyn came up to me as I stepped out for some fresh air.  “Are you okay? You don’t look good.”

I smiled back at her concern. “I was just a little warm.  I hope I’m not getting sick.”

“Oh, so that’s where you were this afternoon.”  She supplied.  I didn’t answer one way or the other.

He deposited me and my daughter at the door to our cabin, hugged me softly and disappeared into the darkness.

“Eustace?”  I called out weakly.

“No.” came the exhausted reply.

The night tormented me.  I woke early and went over the itinerary for the day.  I didn’t have the heart for it, but I didn’t want to stay cooped up either.  On my way to the child care facility with my daughter, I ran into the company president.  He asked me how I was feeling saying he’d heard I was ill the day before.  I told him I was some better, though I didn’t really get much sleep that night.  It was a short, but amiable exchange. 

My friend wasn't at breakfast.  Mr. Parker asked me if I knew where he was.  I told him I didn't, but I was concerned because he never missed breakfast. 

Right after I dropped Jen off, he fell into stride beside me.  I told him I wasn’t sure if he would plan to walk or sit with me or not.  He simply replied, “I haven’t stopped loving you.”

And so we reverted to our previous state of friendship on the outside, overshadowed by a sad resolve on the inside.

The afternoon before the conference ended, I walked to my cabin to freshen up a bit.  I was met by my husband waiting outside.  Quite surprised, I questioned his presence there.

“You tell me,” he replied.  “I was sent plane tickets and told I needed to be here.”  He seemed quite uneasy about the whole thing.  I knew the routine.  Some pursuit had been interrupted.  “It wasn’t easy to get someone to come in for the other kids.” 

I shrugged my shoulders.  “Not sure.”

When we got to supper, Dianne was there beside my friend.  He shot me a questioning look.  I smiled back silently.  We didn’t speak again that trip.

It was a couple of weeks before he was back in the office.  He came into the break room and sat beside me.  “I'm being transferred.”

“I heard.  Sounds like a good promotion.”

“Not much of a promotion, more like a change of location.  I guess there will be a little more money for Dianne to spend.”

“I'll miss you.”

“Do you have any regrets?”

I looked at the table for a moment as though it would give me the right words for the occasion.  “I'll never regret having you for a friend.”  I replied.

“Well, regardless of where I am, I will always be that.”

I stood up to go back into my office.  At the door I turned to face him.

Eli.

Nope.

I saw him twice a year after that.  Once at the yearly training seminar and once at the company meeting.  We always sat together and ate our meals together, but never mentioned that week again.

Eventually my marriage eroded and dissolved.  I left the company.  In time I met someone I learned to love and respect and I remarried.  But I've never forgotten my friend, even though I never really knew his name.

DW 2009