Chance
(A Story)

She sat in the shade on a hot summer afternoon. Another woman was with her. The other woman chatted with her while they both watched the two children attempt to swing high.

As I walked by on the dirt path barefoot, my pants rolled up to my knees, I noted that she glanced at me more than once. Initially, I thought maybe the multiple glances were due to the rarity of spotting a middle-aged man walking barefoot—and in the heat.

The woman’s ponytail swished across her shoulders as she turned her head. She was about forty-five years old. The next time her head swiveled toward me, I met her gaze. She smiled at me and nodded. I smiled and nodded back. She was a pretty woman, and her smile amplified her face.

I walked past her and her companion. As I neared the edge of the dirt path, I heard a voice call out, “Hey, man with his pants rolled up!”

Since I doubted there were multiple iterations of men with their pants rolled up, I turned and stopped.

The woman with the ponytail trotted toward me and stopped as she put her hands on her hips. She stood about ten feet from me.

“I’m Jane, ” she said.

“I’m Jay,” I replied. “Nice to meet you.”

“This is going to sound odd, but you look interesting. Do you want to come sit under the shade with me? I have a lot of questions.”

I smiled immediately. “Fair warning. I love being cryptic and clever.”

“Not half as much as me!” Jane’s smile became even broader. She turned as if she assumed I would follow.

I walked back toward the canopy of trees over the swings. Jane’s friend saw me approach.

“Jane, you’ve got to stop talking to strangers.”

“What? He’s going to rob us and then run away barefoot? Everyone is a stranger until they’re not. Besides, your psychic sister told me I would run into the love of my life under unusual circumstances.”

I laughed.

“See, Becky, he’s laughing. How dangerous can he be?” Jane raised her right eyebrow and stuck her tongue out at Becky.

“You are as bad as my two kids, Jane.” Becky waved at me and introduced herself.

Jane motioned for me to sit near her on the swing perimeter.

“What are you doing walking around barefooted, Jay?” I noticed that Jane looked at me from the corner of her eye as she spoke.

“It feels good,” I told her. “And I get a dollar for each sharp object I find with my toes.”

Jane laughed. Her friend Becky shook her head as if I had said something ridiculous.

“Okay. Why are your pants rolled up?”

I smiled. “To keep my pants dry. I walked at least a mile upstream and back.”

“That means you’re single.” Jane’s expression didn’t change as she made the announcement.

“I am. But what makes you come to that conclusion!”

Jane paused. “Because people who are taken don’t go on barefoot adventures in the creek.”

“That makes sense. But I could have been throwing off the bloodhounds.” I knew she would have a quick reply.

“I’m not sure that sauntering barefoot in plain sight is an effective escape strategy.”

“Perhaps escape isn’t my objective.” I couldn’t stop grinning at our rapid-fire exchanges.

“You must be one of those rare stop-and-pet-the-bloodhound guys I’ve heard nothing about.”

“Yes. I used to be a stop-and-smell-the-roses guy, but the neighbor got me arrested.”

I heard Becky laugh.

“Y’all are made for each other. Not a lick of sense between the two of you.”

“Is she your matchmaker Jane?”

“No, that’s her sister Reba. She’s the psychic I mentioned. She told me I would meet my ideal man a month ago. That’s why I booked the day trip to the county jail, hoping to find just the right one.” Jane turned to look at me directly. Even though I laughed, I took a moment to hold her gaze.

“I am the man of your dreams. Freddy Krueger minus the sweatshirt.”

Before I barely had the words out of my mouth, she replied, “I am looking for a total mismatch. Someone too dumb to get out of the rain.”

I hesitated because her comment struck a nerve. In the back of my mind, I always thought I belonged with someone who would go out in the rain with me without worrying about their hair, makeup, or how they might look.

Because of the unusual circumstance of being invited into a conversation in a public park, I couldn’t help myself. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

Jane grinned. “Just like that? How do you know I’m interested?”

“I don’t. But you asked me over to ask questions. I’m assuming you’re not taken either. I doubt your boyfriend or husband would encourage you to talk to random strangers like this.”

“You’re not random. I was waiting for someone barefooted with their pants rolled up. Duh!” She reached over and swatted my arm. “You’re just the first guy who has qualified.”

Becky spoke. “She’s single. Believe me. You’re signing up for nutso if she goes out with you.”

Jane startled me by speaking unexpectedly loudly. “That’s rich, coming from you. Your husband Pete has everything but clown shoes.”

“Ha ha,” Becky replied.

“Okay, Jay. Technically, we’re already out, so we’ll call this our first date. When would you like the second to be?”

“As soon as provident.”

“Provident, huh? Who uses that word? I’m definitely in if you will wow me with your vocabulary.”

I stood up and walked to the edge of the trees bordering the park. I picked up a flat stone and a smaller one. Jane watched me intently. Becky pretended that we were behaving normally.

I scratched my phone number into the bigger flat rock, walked back to Jane, and handed it to her.

“Positively prehistoric. Going old school on me. I love it.” Jane’s head tilted, and her eyes met mine.

I can’t explain it. I knew at that moment that she would call. And that she would violate the presumptive rules of dating and call me within a couple of hours.

I also knew I would have my phone near me to receive it.

…
I often think about that random encounter. So many things could have prevented the synchronicity and coincidence of that connection.

Jane and I often joke about the afternoon we met. Seven hundred and three days have passed (…but who is counting…) since that afternoon. Becky still gives us hell about it. We both laugh, thinking about the ease and unlikelihood of our first conversation. Each time we’re standing in the creek, we look up at the trees and the sun shining through the branches.

X
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