Puppy Love

Editors' Choice Winner

It seems that, more often than not, love takes people completely by surprise, sneaking up on them like a cat padding silently in the shadows then pouncing upon its unsuspecting prey. This was how it happened for Madeline Banks.

Madeline awoke on an overcast chilly day in early February, and as she went about her morning routine—brush teeth, take shower, fix hair, apply makeup—she thought about this and that, nothing really important, just little things, like what she had to do that day and what she would like to do—not that the two were necessarily the same.

Sighing, she did pause to study her reflection in the mirror, but not for long, since she realized there was only so much that makeup could accomplish and a person had to be satisfied with the results after a point.

She then dressed in a red-and-black plaid skirt and a red sweater. Not only because she knew the outfit would be warm on this chilly February day, but also because she thought a cheerful color appropriate for such dreary weather. She then picked up her purse and left her tiny two-room apartment. Breakfast was in 15 minutes, and she didn’t want to be late, especially since it was Monday, and they always served cheese omelets with hot buttered croissants and current jelly on Mondays.

Walking down the long hall, she nodded and smiled at a few of her fellow residents. There was John Granger. He looked dapper—but then, John was a romantic at heart and always looked quite dapper. And Nancy Hanover. Bless her heart. She was having a difficult time getting about today. Rather unsteady. Her arthritis must be acting up again. And Francis Grey, in her wheelchair, scooting about and zooming in and out among pedestrians as she rushed toward the dining room. One would never know she was 91.

When Madeline entered the dining room, she glanced around, searching for her two closest friends, Grace Higgins and Barbara Walker. Oh, there they were, at a table near the fireplace. Good choice for such a wintry morning. They must have arrived early in order to get it, though, since Renee Bledsoe and Caroline Hospers usually claimed that table. And Renee and Caroline were obviously displeased, given they were scowling into their hot tea and not chattering like they usually did.

Madeline waved, just a little wiggle of her fingers, a gesture Grace returned, as Madeline headed across the room to join her friends. It was then, at that very moment, that she glanced toward a nearby table and saw him.

He was watching her.

She didn’t yet know his name. He was a new resident at Countryside, the retirement community Madeline now called home. But she had spoken with him just yesterday, when they had both been checking out books from the little library off the recreation hall. As it turned out, they both like mysteries, especially those by Christie and Garner, as well as historical fiction.

His blue eyes met her green ones and he smiled.

Madeline felt her heart flutter between her ribs.

Rising from the chair, he bowed at the waist, the movement both quaint and gallant as at the same time. “Morning, lovely lady,” he said.

She stopped.

“I feel I erred yesterday,” he said, “for I failed to introduce myself.” Another quick bow and he said, “Horace Goodman, Commander, U.S. Air Force, Retired, at your service.”

Nodding, she said, “It’s a pleasure, and I’m Madeline Banks, Teacher, Georgia Public School System, Retired.”

That made him laugh. He had a nice laugh to go with his nice smile. He motioned toward the empty chair on the other side of the table. “Well, Madeline Banks, Retired, would you do me the honor of joining me for breakfast?”

Madeline glanced at Grace and Barbara.

They were watching her, and their eyes looked disapproving behind the lenses of their bifocals. Grace then pursed her lips in that way she had; and Madeline could imagine what was going through her friend’s mind: “Madeline,” Grace was thinking, “now, don’t do anything foolish. Act your age. Don’t allow yourself be charmed by a beguiling smile.”

Of course, Grace was right. Madeline knew this, still . . .

“Obviously I’m a new resident,” Horace said. “And I realize you don’t know me, at least not yet, but how can you ever come to know me if we don’t take advantage of this opportunity. A warm breakfast, a leisurely cup or two of coffee or tea, whichever you prefer, and some conversation—we don’t know, but it could be the beginning of something beautiful.” Again that smile. “And as we both know, time is fleeting.”

And he was also right. Madeline knew this as well, but . . . She glanced back at her friends.

Horace also looked at Grace and Barbara. His full lips curving into a smile beneath his mustache, he nodded and mouthed, “Good morning, ladies.”

Barbara tittered then abruptly covered her mouth with her hand, a sure sign that she was flustered.

He then looked back at Madeline. “What if I said that if you say no, it would surely break my heart?”

She laughed. “I’d say you’re full of blarney and should perhaps consider a new pickup line to use on the ladies.”

“Ah,” he said, ‘but would it work? Would you join me for breakfast?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” she stammered and suddenly realized her hands were sweating. Her neck also felt warm—hot even. She hadn’t felt this—this, discombobulated—in years. Not since the evening she’d met Roger, her first love. It had been in, why, February, the way it was now; and they’d glimpsed one another across a crowded theatre lobby—the Fox Theatre in downtown Atlanta. What movie was showing that night? She had long ago forgotten. All she could remember was the way Roger had smiled at her, and the way she had felt—her stomach all aflutter, filled with butterflies, and her hands sweating—the way they were now. But her parents had disapproved of Roger and did everything within their power to discourage her from dating him, mainly because they had thought her too young for a serious relationship. She had been only seventeen. They had called her feelings for Roger “Puppy Love” and told her that she’d get over him. It was just a passing thing. And in order to “bring her to her senses,” they had sent her away to boarding school, and Roger had married someone else, as had she. But what no one knew was that her love for Roger had endured. Yes, she had loved again, but never with that same breathless wonder and intensity. Never.

“Please,” Horace said. “Remember, time is fleeting.”

He’s right, she thought; time is fleeting. Besides, it would be Valentines Day in ten days, and it would be nice to have someone with whom she could exchange cards. Although she could be wrong, she had a strong feeling she and Horace Goodman might very well become more than friends—lovers even—and she didn’t care if it was Puppy Love, for at her age, Puppy Love would probably endure until the end.