White Suit

I always loved one and so when Ken came back from
Australia
I bought a crisp linen suit just to greet him wearing white
spectator pumps red toes and heels
they don’t make them anymore
and a polka dot blouse red and white dots with a bow 
though now I wonder if it was such a good idea
He was 19 and I was 17 and he’d been gone 18 long months
with letters so passionate it took weeks to get one so much
loving and longing in two letters a day triple on Sunday
He was traveling alone staying at the Stacy Trent hotel in
Trenton
but I didn’t know how to drive so I took the bus uptown to
Stuyvesant Avenue slow as a caterpillar caught in a traffic jam
turning right onto Prospect then left to West State smoothing
my skirt counting the trees
finally up to his floor stopping to see each number hoping to
appear as a clandestine lover until he opened the door
nothing was planned how could it be we looked at each other
and neither of us knew quite what to do he said Hi I said Hi
then he said Hi and I said Hi
We should have flung into each other’s arms acting out all
those words all those letters but without the emotional
wherewithal it was a dam that could not break
catatonic for seconds then finally some talk we noticed the
beautiful furniture in such an expensive room the silken
drapes the sculptured pots
We even mentioned the light the weather but after that what
else to say so I left and took the bus back home
I hung my white suit carefully in the closet wrapped the shoes
back in plastic and reached into the drawer for his beautiful
large packet of letters.

 © Copyright Grace Cavalieri, 2024, all rights reserved.