That Time

 He had the habit, in moments of thought, of dropping his right hand to the waist-band of his trousers, and gently fondling the silver braces clip. It was an unconscious action, a comfort. Almost as if it were a talisman that enabled him to think the clearer. She watched him as he did it now, and smiled to herself as she recognised a gesture so unremarkable, so insignificant, yet so individual to this man whom she knew so well.

Unlike the heroes in novels and feature films, he had never been dashingly handsome. A good-natured face would have been the best description for it, and he would have been the first to say that he held no towering intellect. 

She looked at him, his head bent slightly, eyes looking at his feet, but seeing something so far away and perhaps so long ago. He had always done that, had always been the sort to sink into reverie in his quieter moments. She had been surprised to learn that such a thinker was also such a simple man. He had little education, and yet thought hard about many things. They were largely practical, everyday things, but he gave them solid thought. She realised very early on that he may have been simple, but he was not stupid. 

It had been a gentle Courting. More of a Romance than a Courtship, she reflected. A soft and slow meandering of two people into each others lives. Tentatively browsing each others' personality. Gently touching characteristics of the other as they spoke over time. A long time. It was as if they had opened a door into each other and discovered a shop, a shadowed and crowded place, full of interesting things that they could look at and examine before replacing them gently. Each so very aware of the invisible rule that care must be taken not to damage anything, nor steal from this Emporium of Delights which was their Lover's mind.

Perhaps it was a foolishness that allowed each of them to be so trusting of the other. Or maybe it was naiveté. Certainly, had either of them been hurt in love before, or been more worldly in their experiences, such trust could not have happened. But they were Innocents, and so they trusted. Never having been betrayed or hurt, they each allowed the other inside themselves, and found Wonder that never really faded.

Unconsciously, his fingers caressed the clip on his waist, a gentle motion, as slow as his breath. He looked far back and far away, considering.

Years after they married, Jane became aware of how fortunate they had been. Two untouched young people, living in a relatively innocent time, before the spread of media brought brash ideas, fashions and questions into every corner of life. A time when morals were firm and families strong, and where small communities could shelter innocents and give them a chance to find each other. She realised, of course, that such pipe-dreams didn't really exist, and that each society harboured its' own shadows. But she appreciated that some tiny pocket had been there, an eddy in the river of her life, which allowed her to stop, for just a moment, and find this fellow traveller, as innocent as her, and let them swirl through the World together.

 She was, she knew, no prize catch herself. "Plain" was the obvious addition to her given name, and it had been applied often enough for her to accept, despite her hidden hatred of the implication it held for her future. She could have become resentful of the name, but one person had forestalled that, before it even began.

"Jane", her Mother would say, "you have qualities you do not realise. One day someone will see them and appreciate you for who you are, not who you look like." The lesson was repeated often, and eventually to good effect. She believed, and kept her self-esteem.

They had met at a Social Dance, back when such things existed. A coming together of people from all walks of life, from miles around. Everybody brought a plate to share for supper, and the kitchen was as busy as the bar. Sharing home-made dishes was as natural as speaking, with no thought of anyone getting sick, or taking legal action if they did. She could never recall it happening, and she had eaten her share of stranger's tuna casseroles over the years. It was a more trusting time, she thought.

Bill had first held her waist during a progressive Barn Dance, a simple waltz specifically designed to force strangers to dance with strangers. He had smiled, introduced himself, asked if she lived locally. She had smiled, told him her name, and said she was the local teacher. He had raised his eyebrows in surprise and pleasure, and then she had spun gently away into the arms of her next partner. 

And so it had begun.

He wondered where the time had gone. It seemed so clear in his mind. The sunburnt ground, dry and crumbling under a heavy sun, and he, lithe and young, full of spirit and innocent optimism. So much had happened so quickly. He had hardly time to breathe before here he sat, old, and slow, and so lacking in the youth he had revelled in.

He had been (he reflected), a bit of a lad in his day. Always willing to have a go at most things, especially sport or daring. The local lads had taken him in when he had arrived in town. New faces were always welcome, and a fun loving young man found good company in the local dare-devils. He had enjoyed the sports and hi-jinks at the swimming hole, and laughed as loud as any of them at the fun they had. 

But he had his limits. He was not a drinker. It never appealed to him. He'd seen the effects of too much drink and decided it was not for him. Nor did he play the fool with the girls. That was from his upbringing, he reflected later in life. Respect the ladies, and always be a gentleman. Of course, being a farm worker was hardly likely to attract the Belle of the Ball types, anyway. He was also shy, something of a loner in the midst of the happy crowd of young men he mingled with. He was more than happy to walk away with a smile and an apology when the parties got too loud.

That time, he decided, had been an instant. A moment. A flash that only existed so he could be in the right place to meet Jane.

From that place and time, his life had been Endless. An expanding Globe of Wonder that filled him with a deeper meaning of Life and Happiness. The happiness he felt within her smile, her hand in his, his pride in her becoming his wife, his lover, and mother to their family. 

Even the tragedies and hardships were eased because he knew her support, her undying dedication to him, and her faith that it would work out, would give him the strength to carry them all through. Ah, it had been good. Such a long time now, and yet still full and fresh as their first love.

He had been shy at first, he reflected, gazing at his Old Man Slippers, but seeing only soft conversation and polite goodnights. She had been guarded and he had been unsure, so they trod softly down the path to Romance. Acquaintances first, after a meeting at a dance. He was never sure how it was they learned each others names. Funny that. Then friends, meeting at social events, picnics, the movies. Then drives in her car, for he was too poor to own one, and then holding hands, and then..... a kiss.

She saw him smile in the midst of his memories, or meanderings, she didn't know which, and smiled in return, mirroring, if only she knew, the smile he saw after that first kiss. She reached over and touched his hand, like so many times before, and he raised his eyes and looked into hers. His hand curved up and held hers gently. They both nodded. And not a word was said.