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We didn’t meet when we should have met. When we were both ready to meet. A time like that goes by and you can’t get it back. You can howl or you can whine, but you can’t go back to any of those forks in your own road and try the other turn instead of the one you took. Anyway, this wasn’t the girl with the braid and the blue dress. This was a woman and she was twenty-seven, and you could look at, her eyes and the shape of her mouth and make a fair guess as to how often and how badly she had been hurt.
It was a happy house without much money and without too much emotional room for me. Mr. McCann offered a deal. He would get me into a good college of business administration and back me for what I needed through four years if I would agree to come back and work for the Harrison Corporation. When I was on salary I could start paying. It took a long time for him to get it through my proud, thick head that it wasn’t charity. I took him up on it. When I was twenty-three I came back to work as assistant to the purchasing agent.
She wore a knit shirt in a narrow red and white stripe, red shorts that were very short indeed. She was a round-faced leggedy blonde, toffee-tan, barefoot, humming a something song, swinging her legs in the song’s rhythm, carrying a half drink in her hand. She saw me and lifted the drink as though in a toast and said, "Hello now," and turned into a room two doors from mine. She left me with memories of legs and smile, and a sense of the whole island being brought into better focus. I sat in a deep canvas chair and put my legs on a low round wooden table, and in a few minutes Tommy and Puss came out.