Day 81 - Timing Story

Timing Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

Madison stared at Jefferson; Jefferson, for his part stared back at her.

“Say something.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.

Jefferson met Madison during the fall Freshman Orientation at SDSU.  It was a glorious week before school started and Jefferson had arrived the first minute possible, eager to begin his college experience and be away from his family.  Jefferson hadn’t finished unpacking when his new roommate Aaron had the wise idea that they go and traverse the female floors of the quad and try to find young women who were just as eager to explore their new-found freedom as Jefferson and Aaron were.  Aaron was not the smartest student in the world and he had a knack for talking with women that Jefferson did not possess.  They headed off into their first night of true adulthood armed with their youthful exuberance, cocky smiles, and bottles of cheap wine.  Jefferson met a girl Abigail that night.  Abigail was all for college experimentation and Jefferson was happy to oblige.  Aaron had already called dibs on their room, so Abigail’s dorm it was.

The next morning Abigail’s freshman roommate Madison arrived with her bags and parents while Jefferson was still asleep in Abigail’s bed.  Aside from a few minutes of embarrassment while Jefferson was trying to get dressed, there was little interaction between them at first.  Jefferson interacted with Abigail and Abigail interacted with Madison, but the three were not an interacting group. 

Aaron thought it would be most brilliant for the four of them to become a group. 

“Roommates dating roommates – it doesn’t get any better than that!”

“I don’t think she’s interested.”

“Talk to her.  Put in a good word.  You owe me.  If I hadn’t made you go out you never would have met Abigail to begin with.”

Jefferson didn’t think that he owed much of anything to Aaron.  It wasn’t like he was really dating Abigail anyway.  They were just doing that college thing that people do.  Hang out, hook up, fool around – whatever name you wanted to call it.  But it wasn’t serious and it wasn’t like Aaron was an old friend or Abigail was going to become his wife.  But Jefferson didn’t want to create an unbearable living situation for himself.  He was trapped in a tiny dorm room and keeping the peace was probably a good idea.  Besides, roommates dating roommates did sound fun.  People did things like that on sitcoms and in movies.  They could double date and there wouldn’t be a conflict of who got to use the room when the other had a girl over.  They both had a place to go spend the night if need be.

So Jefferson talked to Abigail and Abigail talked to Madison and Madison had no interest in Aaron.  But peer pressure being what it was the four of them began to hang out.  On a campus of strangers, everyone can use a new friend or two.

Sexual frustration aside, Aaron enjoyed this new group, and dubbed them the Founding Fathers.  The nickname took a little bit of explaining and a little bit of historical liberty, but they did indeed all have names that had some connection to the colonies.  Jefferson had had to deal with presidential references his whole life, and was usually annoyed or frustrated when a new friend made a joke thinking they were the first ones to ever be so original.  But this was somehow refreshing.  He had never been part of a group joke.  That made it better.  No one loved the group nickname, but silly things like that have a way of sticking.

As it turned out the epic romance between Jefferson and Abigail was not so epic after all and was just one of those typical college experimental things that last but a few weeks.  They remained friends though.  Not great friends, but good enough.  Jefferson found he liked Madison more.  They were sarcastic in the same way and were both spoiled and picky and particular.  No one really liked Aaron all that much, but groups needed a fourth, otherwise someone always had to play third wheel.  As it went, with four, no there was less of a chance for strange and uncomfortable sexual conflict that can happen when a man hangs out with a former lover and her attractive and funny roommate.

“Say something.  Say nothing.  Tell me.  Tell me anything.  This is your chance to say anything to me that you ever wanted to say.”

Jefferson was silent.

College is busy and full of people and relationships and friendships are often short lived.  Jefferson moved out of the dorms as soon as he could and that little bit of space was enough to make it apparent that he and Aaron were not best friends in the making.  They continued to talk and saw each other for the occasional drink, but their lives were less and less connected.

One day during the fall of senior year, Jefferson bumped into Madison on the street.  She had let her hair grow long and something in her face had matured in such a way that she no longer looked like a child, but hadn’t lost any of the youthful beauty she had possessed two years earlier.  She looked grownup and showed hints of what her adult face would look like for years to come.  Jefferson was impressed.  There was a new maturity to her, but also a sense of inner peace.  She hadn’t ever had much direction freshman or sophomore year, but now, she had a prideful seriousness to her demeanor. 

They made small talk and asked and said all the polite things that people are supposed to say to old friends that they don’t really know anymore.  Life was moving them past and beyond each other.  They had memories and anecdotes and inside jokes, but they didn’t know the current person they were faced with.

Jefferson was about to ask her to coffee when Aaron turned the corner.  He was looking for her and when he put his hand on her back, he did so in far too familiar a way.  Jefferson wished them both well and said they should hang out more often and not be such strangers.  Everyone agreed.  No one mentioned Abigail or where she was or how she had been doing.

“There’s always something in the way, isn’t there?  It’s never our time”

“I don’t know.  I never knew you were interested.  You never said anything.”

Madison met Jefferson at an Irish pub in the Gaslamp District.  They hadn’t seen each other or spoken in close to two years.  Twenty months, thought Jefferson.  He wasn’t sure why he knew that detail.  He wasn’t a recovering alcoholic or anything. He didn’t need precise dates when it came to people he wasn’t talking to.  But he knew.  Every time there had been a break he knew.  He was twenty-five and she would be in four months.  That was the last time he had seen her, when she had thrown a party for herself for her birthday.  It was not a very enjoyable party.  There was too much drinking and not enough cheer.  It had been the type of drinking that was done to drown sorrows and forget things, not the type of drinking that was done when someone was happy and wanted to celebrate their existence.

Madison and Aaron had broken up three days before her birthday.  It wasn’t the first time they had broken up.  It wouldn’t be the last.  Still, it put a damper on the festivities that evening.

Madison was a mean and ugly drunk.  She was vindictive and spiteful and said things to hurt the people around her.  She said awful things to Jefferson about his life and his failures and why he was a selfish and bad person.  Jefferson knew she wasn’t talking about him.  The words made no sense when applied to him.  Jefferson knew he was nothing but a surrogate for all her anger towards Aaron.  Jefferson didn’t like Madison when she was drunk, but he did like her when she was single.  He had not been single during her birthday party.  For a brief couple of hours that night he became single and became a different sort of surrogate.  In the morning things returned to how they had been without a word or explanation on either of their parts.  Two months later Jefferson heard from a friend that Madison and Aaron were together again.

Now, nearly two years later, here she was, sitting in front of Jefferson telling him all about how Aaron had been hired to work at a non-profit in Sacramento and he was moving.  He had asked her to go and she was thinking about it.

Jefferson knew enough to know this was his window.  He understood enough about men and women and what they told each other to know she was telling him a lot more than her words could indicate.  He knew this was when he was supposed to be the man and he was supposed to fight for the things that that he wanted.

Jefferson sat and stared for too long.

Madison started to walk away when Jefferson finally stopped her.

“Don’t go.  I hope you can be happy.  I don’t want you to go, but if you go, I hope you’re happy.  Choose me.  Or just know that you could have chosen me.  I can’t wait for you, but I want to.  I hope we never have this conversation again.”

Madison smiled.

“That was your speech?  That was the best you had?”

“You didn’t give me much time to prepare.”

“I gave you seven years to prepare.”

“Touché.”

Madison sat back down, half smiling, half fighting back tears.  They had a lot to talk about.