I shifted uncomfortably. I was still young, but not as young as I once was, and had often thought just that, especially given what we’d talked about, as often as not. For his fantasies, though having nothing to do with reality, stood in painful contrast to my deadly dull job; for that matter, to my deadly dull life.
He took another look at the couple, sighed, then turned to me. “Frank...”
“Yes, Beemis?”
“You remember the first time we met?”
I nodded. “I think so. About two years ago, right here, on this bench.”
He nodded. “Yes. Right here, on this bench. You remember how we met?”
I didn’t really remember, but since we always met the same way, I hardly needed to. “You nodded toward me, and mentioned what a nice day it was.”
“Yes. It was. A very nice day.”
“Just like today,” I pointed out.
“Yes.”
He looked around, took a deep breath, as if he were savoring the day and the view for all they were worth, and nodded.
“Well met.”
“What?” I said, in puzzlement.
“Well met,” he repeated. “We were well met, that day.”
“Yes,” I said, “I suppose we were.” For despite the limited nature of our relationship, we often seemed the oldest and closest of friends. Or at least that’s the way it seemed to me, and he acted as if it seemed the same, to him.
“You ever think about fate, Frank?”
I shook my head. “Not really. I’m not much for philosophical ruminations. Not like you.”
He smiled. Chuckled, even, as he shook his head. “Not like me.” Then he sighed a great sigh, as if some great sadness had overtaken him. Which was odd, because he didn’t look — never looked, for that matter — at all sad. Even when he didn’t look particularly happy, either.
“You remember how I greeted you?”
“Yes, I do.” In fact, now that I’d had a chance to think about it, I remembered it quite well, as it had seemed very strange, at the time — at least, until he’d explained it.
“Afternoon, Frank, I said.”
“Yes.”
“You were surprised by that.”
“Yes, I was, since we’d never met. But then you pointed out that my badge had my name on it.”
He smiled. “That was convenient.”
I nodded. “Yes. It made it easy for you to confound me for a few moments.” He always liked to confound me, and I knew, from our long association, that he must have very much enjoyed my confusion.
“Yes. It made it very easy to explain it away.”
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Fantasy and Romantic Fiction
