It was at my first husband’s Celebration of Life I became acutely aware of my affection for Bob. He was amused. I nearly fainted, and it was all Sherri’s fault. A long time best friend, she approached Bob as he prepared to leave the event.
“Oh, you must be Bob Canady. Jeanette has told me so much about you.” Her emphasis on “so much” stopped the conversation somewhat faster than a lightning bolt. He glanced at me briefly, tilted his head, then focused his blue-eyed gaze on Sherri.
“Oh? And what have you heard?” My inhalation was short, but fast, as I tried to recall what I had said about him. Had I mentioned more than his kindness? His intelligence?
I still have no memory of her answer, but cannot forget the give-away grin on her face, or the curious expression on his. Their conversation continued as though I had left the room. I stepped back, leaned against a railing and attempted to catch the breath lost in my lungs causing my head to feel light. He was the dean of one of the largest business schools in Southern California. I was a graduate student. What the hell was she doing?
Yet, instinctively I knew. Her eyes peered through my heart, and she heard the deeper meaning in my words, meanings I shoved aside as I wrapped myself in a bubble. She was going to direct a small breeze on this quiet fire; she was going to watch to see if the embers lit. They talked for some time, then he walked out the door, out the front gate, got into his classic Mercedes and drove away.