I Almost Forgot About You (31 page)

Even though I'm up on this stage, it's impossible to hide the fact that I'm blushing.

And then he winks! And he gets some serious applause! What exactly is going on here? What I remember most about Stanley happened under the covers, and that was a one-shot deal! Well, it was really quite a few shots, since I didn't go home for seventy-two hours. And I lied to Wanda. Stanley made my heart swell. But it was my little secret. I look out at him now, and he's looking back at me with that same smirk Ryan Gosling had in
Drive,
and I suddenly feel like someone needs to open a window. Fast. When I finally hear Wanda's testimonial, she pretty much says this:

“Georgia, I know you're probably wishing this party was over, because you're good at doing for others but you have yet to figure out how to accept, or I should say receive, except tonight you don't have a choice. I have loved being your friend, your sister, your confidante all these years and want you to know how much I respect your bravery, your sense of delight and fearlessness about life. You're not getting older, you're just about to reach the next plateau. You inspire me. Continue taking risks. Take that frigging train ride you've been postponing for too long, and Nelson and I hope that when you finally disembark, you get off at the right stop. Happy birthday, sis. P.S. Yes, I went over the time limit!”

The room is all laughter and applause and good spirits and even tissues zigzagging across cheeks. Plates start being set on tables, and there's not a dry chicken breast in sight. I walk down the three steps and out into the room to accept hug after hug and see Stanley standing there, on the sidelines, waiting patiently for his turn.

“So you're supposed to be going on a train ride?” he asks as he sits down next to me, crosses those long legs, and then puts his arm around the back of my chair. I'm wondering if anybody's watching us, but everybody's on the dance floor, and of course Wanda and Nelson are shaking their booties, but she's got her eyes on me and Stanley with a smile, and when I glance over at my mother's table, everybody pretends to be looking at the lights on the Bay Bridge.

“I was. Am. What on earth are you doing here, Stanley?”

“Well, it's nice to see you, too, Georgia. Happy birthday.”

And he smiles. Please don't smile at me like that. I shake it off and regain what I suppose would be called composure, even though I don't remember losing it.

“Thank you. One more time: What in the world are you doing here, Stanley?”

“I was invited.”

“I know it was Wanda. But how?”

“She tracked me down on Facebook and gave me the update on you and what you were doing.”

“But how'd she find you?”

“It wasn't that hard. Which tells me
you've
never tried to find me in all these years.”

“I forgot your last name.”

“What a liar you are. How could you forget DiStasio? I'm offended.”

“Okay, so I didn't forget. I've been a little preoccupied.”

“I know. I'm just trying to get you to relax.”

“I'm not relaxed. I'm shocked. What exactly did Wanda tell you that made you want to come out here?”

“That you were looking up old friends—is how she put it, but I'm not stupid—and she didn't know if I'd made the cut, so she thought it would be nice for me to reach out to you, since you obviously never took me as seriously as I took you.”

“And you're serious now?”

“Yes. Would you like to dance?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because.”

“If it's because I'm still white, that's just too bad,” he says, and stands up and holds his hand out for me to take it, which I do with some hesitation, and we walk out to the dance floor and slowly begin to move to a beat I can't hear. I'm nervous because I've never danced with a white man before and especially in front of a roomful of mostly black people and especially with my two black ex-husbands staring at us like we're on
Dancing with the Stars
!

Stanley moves a little closer to me, and I back up a few inches, and he moves closer, and I stop, and then his feet and hips begin to swivel like he knows how to dance.

I almost can't handle this.

“Can't you dance, Georgia?”

“Yes, I can dance. But I'm having a hard time getting my rhythm right now.”

“Relax. I didn't come here to upset you or bring up bad memories. But we don't have any bad memories that I know of, do we?”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Seriously, what made you come to my party, and where on earth did you come from? And who in the world are you, Stanley?”

“Well, I came because about thirty-some-odd years ago I fell in love with this beautiful college student, and her name was Georgia Young, but she was more worried about what other people would think, so I married another woman, who happened to be French, and she died ten years ago. I live in Manhattan, but my family's in Albany, and if you want to know what I do for a living, I'm not going to tell you unless you promise to have dinner with me.”

I almost lose my footing.

The music stops, and Stanley just stands there. Looking down at me. Goddamn, is he handsome and sexy, and he's Italian, and did I just hear him right?

“We just
had
dinner.”

“That doesn't count.”

“How long are you going to be here?”

“Answer my question.”

“Why should I have dinner with you?”

“Because you should.”

“But you don't even know me anymore.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don't, Stanley.”

“All these people in this room tell me who you are. I know what you've been doing for a living, and I know you have two daughters and what's going on in their lives, and I know you've been alone too long and that you've got two husbands, whom I've met this evening, and I also know that our hearts don't forget who didn't break them. I'm here because I think enough time has passed and we're both mature enough and old enough to get to know each other—because what do we have to lose?”

“I think I need a drink,” I say, and walk off the dance floor over to the bar. I can feel Stanley behind me. When I get to the bar, I turn around, and he's standing so close that I swear to God if this were a movie, I'd be putting my arms around him and giving him a long, deep kiss.

And then Stanley bends down and whispers in my ear. “I'm the same man. Only older and wiser, and this time I'm not letting you get away. I don't care what it is we don't like about each other. We'll get to like it. I came here to sweep you off your feet and love you for the rest of your life the way you've always dreamed of being loved. And I'll have whatever you're having.”

I know he must be kidding.

And can he read minds?

“Are you on some kind of medication?” I ask him.

He laughs.

“What exactly did Wanda tell you, Stanley?”

“You can call me Stan.”

“What exactly did Wanda tell you,
Stan
?”

“Enough. But it sounds like we've pretty much been swimming in the same sea.”

I feel myself nodding but don't mean to, so I stop my head from moving.

“You know this kind of stuff only happens in the movies,
Stan,
and I don't know who you are or what makes you think you can just come to my fifty-fifth-birthday party unbeknownst to me and talk all this historical shit and assume I'm going to act like—”

“Georgia Young. Now, relax. I'm not here to kidnap you or hypnotize you. I just want to make sure you don't forget me again.”

“Who said I forgot about you?”

“You never bothered to find me.”

“But you also didn't try to find
me.
”

“Oh, yes I have. But not until Facebook has it been possible, and I admit you took your sweet time getting on it.”

“So shall we run to the justice of the peace after I blow out the candles and ride off into the sunset or what?”

“You think I'm not serious?”

“That's what's scaring me. We're too old for fairy tales.”

“That's why I'm here. Because we're long overdue for one, and please stop with the ‘We're too old for this' business, because we're not. Now, go blow out those candles and give it everything you've got.”

I set my wine down, because my head is already spinning. As I walk over to the table where my big white cake is waiting for me, Wanda whispers in my ear. “Don't resist, bitch, or I'll kick your ass on your birthday. I got in touch with him for a reason. You forget I was there back in the day. I saw how much you liked him, and it scared you. But he's here now, so blow the candles out as if you mean it.”

And I do.

I can't remember the speech I gave. Of course I thanked everybody for everything, especially all the contributions for free glasses and eye exams I plan to donate to those who can't afford them. This is what I told Wanda I would most appreciate in lieu of personal gifts.

“Who is that man?” Estelle finally asked.

“You mean the white one?”

“I didn't say it, you said it. And I wasn't thinking it. Who is he?”

“An old friend from college.”

“He's handsome,” Frankie said.

“He sure likes you,” Ma said. “And it looks like he made your knees buckle, which we all know is hard to do. Who is he?”

“I just said it. An old friend from college.”

“Does he have a brother?” Lily asked after poking her head between my family members. “Happy birthday, Georgia, and…” She blew air onto her open palm to let me know that everything was fine, and she was thanking me for whatever I didn't do. I crossed my arms across my heart and gave her a wink and a soft smile.

“Well, where's he been hiding all these years?” Ma asked.

“Don't even bother explaining,” older Grover said.

Right now I'm sitting in the passenger side of that old friend's rental car, which happens to be a Prius, because he insisted on driving me home.

“This is a little weird,” I say after we get onto the freeway.

“I'd say it's more like having an out-of-body experience.”

“You look good,
Stan
. But seriously, what really made you come all the way out here?”

“I've already answered a few of those questions if you were listening and I can't answer the rest of them while I'm driving, so I'll just pull over at the next exit,” he says. And he does.

As usual, San Francisco is staring at us, and for a split second I feel like a teenager about to make out, but Stanley is not a teenager, he's a grown man, and a white man, and a man who I don't know how he's making my heart turn over when I thought it was dead.

He turns off the engine.

“Look, Ms. Georgia. I took the chance of making a complete fool out of myself by getting on a plane and coming to see you. But I had to find out for myself if seeing you would conjure up any old or new feelings, and I'm happy to say that both of those were indeed the case. I didn't mean to freak you out, but I do know that you ran from me in college. But now we're older, and…I don't know, maybe you're in love with someone else.”

“I'm sure Wanda told you I wasn't.”

“No, she just said you weren't in a serious relationship.”

“So what is it you do for a living? I mean, what did you grow up and become?”

“I'm a space sailor.” And he smiles.

“I know you're not sitting here telling me you're an astronaut, are you?”

“Retired astronaut.”

“Are you bullshitting me, Stan? My bad. I apologize for swearing.”

“Don't. I use profanity on a regular basis.” And he winks at me. Again.

“Seriously. You mean you've really been out there—I mean, up there—in space?” I say, looking up like an idiot.

“I have.”

“You're much smarter than I thought you were,” I say.

“Well, thanks for the show of faith.”

“Wait a minute. You're not old enough to retire.”

“You can if you saved your money the right way.”

“What do you do with all your time?”

“I buy homes in run-down neighborhoods to help rebuild them.”

“Where?”

“Different cities. The last one was outside New Orleans. Baltimore and D.C. are on the long list, although some parts of East Oakland I'd love to get to.”

“I must say I'm impressed you even care.”

“You've read some William Kennedy, right?”

“Long, long time ago.
Ironweed
is my favorite.”

“Well, it was William Kennedy's accurate portrayal of heaven and hell. I've been blessed. Everybody hasn't.”

“You must work with a lot of people, a company?”

“We have crews that change. I'll tell you all about it another time.”

“Another time?”

“You heard right. But how about you? You're going to be giving away glasses and performing free eye exams, which tells me your heart's still in the right place.”

“You didn't know me long enough to know where my heart was.”

“How soon we forget. I used to love listening to your long but brilliant diatribes in our Afro-American history class. So I do have a clue. And science is a form of altruism, in case you didn't know it.”

“But I want to leave optometry.”

“Nothing wrong with that. We all take a path we thought we wanted to take, and then we find out there are other paths we can still explore. That's why I started rebuilding homes, and I love it.”