I laughed because his words were too absurd to take seriously.
“Richard, stop joking.”
“I’m not joking.”
“What happened?”
“I can’t explain.”
Silence followed.
“I love you.”
“Richard…”
“I always will.”
Then the call ended.
By graduation, he had disappeared so thoroughly that even our mutual friends could not tell me where he had gone.
For a long time, I questioned what I had done to drive him away.
Eventually, I stopped searching for an answer.
My life continued.
I married.
I raised Stormy.
Still, on quiet subway rides, I occasionally saw someone with dark curls and looked twice without thinking.
Not because I truly believed Richard would be there.
Because a small part of me had never stopped searching for him.
Friday came much sooner than I wanted.
Stormy adjusted the flowers twice and tried on three sweaters before the doorbell sounded.
“I think the poor boy will survive.”
She laughed nervously.
“I hope so.”
At exactly six, the bell rang.
Stormy reached the door first. I remained in the kitchen until I heard her laugh, then entered the hall.
Jordan offered his hand before I had a chance to offer mine.
“Mrs. Kaplan.”
“Doron is fine.”
“Thank you for having me.”
At close range, the resemblance felt even more disturbing.
It was not perfect.
But every smile pulled at a memory I had believed time had weakened.
Then he removed his backpack.
The blue teddy bear swayed from the zipper.
This time there was no possibility that I was imagining it.
It had the same uneven ears.
The same mismatched eyes.
There was no harmless explanation anymore.
Fortunately, Jordan quickly made himself comfortable.
Within ten minutes, I understood Stormy’s attraction to him.
He spoke thoughtfully, laughed without trying too hard, and included everyone in the conversation.
He listened.
Not politely.
Genuinely.
When Stormy teased him for carrying three separate notebooks, he laughed at himself before joining her laughter.
He was exactly the sort of young man a mother hoped her daughter would meet.
Then he turned toward Stormy and smiled.
“My dad actually proposed once.”
My fork froze halfway toward my mouth.
“Really?”
Jordan nodded.
“To my mom.”
I released the breath I had been holding.
I felt foolish for allowing my thoughts to leap so far ahead.
Yet the teddy bear remained impossible to ignore. It moved slightly every few minutes from the backpack beside Jordan’s chair.
I gestured toward it.
“That’s an unusual keychain.”
Jordan glanced at the bag and smiled.
“Oh, this?”
He detached the bear and carefully set it on the table.
“One ear is crooked.”
Jordan smiled.
“Dad always joked the woman who made it got tired halfway through.”
Before I could stop myself, I reached for it.
My fingers touched the faded blue material.
One blue button.
One green button.
