Memories are Made of This

By Sharon McGregor

Memories are Made of This

Reunions can be tricky sometimes. Oh, I don’t mean the weekend-long catered affairs where the whole class competes to see who can lie the best about their perfect lives. Those are simple. You just go on a starvation diet for a week, pull an old girdle out of the dresser and hope no one will notice. Then you spend two weeks pay on a dress, with shoes to match, get a hairdo you can’t afford, fake nails – piece of cake! Of course, it always helps if you can get your co-worker’s hunk of a son to agree to be your escort, no questions asked. But, you have to be sure he’s someone who coaches well. I mean, your whole mystique goes out the window when he lets slip, after two double rums, that awful phrase, “mom’s old friend.”

No, I mean the phone call from out of the blue, like the one I had last week. “Hi, remember me? It’s Jason – Jason from Milton High. I was in town and wondered if we could meet for a drink?”

Remember? When my whole last year of high school featured him prominently in some of my raunchiest dreams?

But now I have to figure it out. Is this a date? A wrinkles reunion? A passing whim?

I picture the various scenarios. I glam up in my slut dress with the highest heels I can totter on, guaranteed to knock his socks off, and he shows up with a wife in tow and wearing a dog collar. Turns out he’s in town for a pastor’s convention and wants to return an old handbook of mine he found with his high school mementos.

On the other hand, I play it cautious, take a friend along as insurance, dress casually, and he meets me at his hotel room door with chilled champagne and a seductive grin. See what I mean about the tricky?

I decide to check my horoscope for the day. “Today is your lucky day emotionally. Romance blooms; but use caution in new relationships.” Big help!

So I decide to split the difference – bulky coat, but underneath a sizzling little black dress (with a removable bolero jacket for an added touch). Understated make-up, no perfume, but a bottle of expensive stuff in my purse for easy access if warranted. No friend to tag along, but excuses memorized if I need to make a speedy exit.

I get to the hotel, and he greets me in the lobby with a wide grin and no wife in tow – good vibes starting here. He picks a secluded table in the bar and chats me up for a bit. Smooth sailing so far. Then, he suggests we adjourn to his room where I discover he has prepared the set-up. Pie charts, brochures, samples and testimonials. He has remembered me with such warmth from our school days that he couldn’t miss this chance to offer me an opportunity to get in on the ground floor of this wealth-assured scheme.

By the time my muddled brain has recalled the pre-memorized excuses he has already started the video and stuffed some brochures into my pockets. I make my exit when he turns his attention to the samples.

Whew! Close call. I try to remember if I actually agreed to attend the seminar booked for tomorrow night and wonder how long it will take the telephone company to change my number.

I flop down on the couch and pick up the paper. I realize the horoscope I read was for tomorrow. Today’s reads – “Not an auspicious day for romance. Matters of the heart may be clouded in deceit and duplicity. On the plus side, you could come into a financial windfall.

Now you tell me. On the other hand, “financial windfall?” Let’s take another look at those brochures.

About this writer

  • Sharon McGregor Sharon McGregor has had stories and articles appear in Lake Country Journal, Fifty Something, Stories That Lift, Horizon and Reader’s Digest Canada.

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2 Responses to “Memories are Made of This”

  1. Heather Fisher says:

    I never knew that you write,never had a clue in fact.Do your relatives know?Good for you,and now that I know I will be on the lookout for your work.
    Best to you as ever.

  2. Kathy says:

    Love the story.

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