Do You Remember {Joey Rosedale}?

Joey Rosedale sat alone at a table for two and waited for the waitress to bring his plate of spaghetti and meatballs. Always remembering what his father had taught him as a child, he took the cloth napkin and tied it around his neck to protect his white shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and perspiration beaded on his forehead.

Joey Rosedale dug in. He twirled the spaghetti on his spoon, and stuffed his mouth with the long tomatoey strains.

He cut the meatballs in half with his fork and stuffed those into his mouth, one after another, barely chewing, and hardly tasting them. When he finished, he scraped the plate with the side of his knife, and licked it clean. There were little smudges of sauce on the corners of Joey Rosedale’s mouth, and he reached them with his tongue.

Joey didn’t linger. He paid his check, left an ample tip, and pushed back his chair. He folded the soiled napkin, left it on the table and turned to walk out the door.

Suddenly, he heard his name being called from the adjoining bar.

It was a voice he had heard before, a voice from his past, and although he didn’t know why, it went straight to his heart. Joey looked for a familiar face in the crowd but saw no one he knew. Thinking he had been mistaken, he turned again to leave.

Joey clicked his fob and slid his lumbering body into the driver’s seat. He pushed start and began to backup when there was a frantic knock on the window. He put the car in park, expecting to see someone he knew. There had been women in his life, but every one of these relationships ended badly, usually leaving him with a broken heart.

Joey squinted into the night to see who was at his window. Standing there in the dark was a complete stranger.

The woman knocked again and motioned for Joey to roll down his window, making the old fashioned motion of a window being cranked. Joey complied, but was confused to say the least.

“Joey Rosedale,” the woman panted in a sultry but also excited voice, “I’d know you anywhere, and it’s been, what, 30 years?”

Joey counted back. Thirty years ago he was seven years old.

He looked deeply into her face hoping for an inkling of who this woman was. He blinked rapidly; his mouth was dry.

The woman continued rapid fire. “How the hell are you? What have you been up to? How’s your dad, Joey? I always liked your dad.”

“My dad’s gone,” was Joey’s reply. “Went of a heart attack about 10 years ago. “

“Sorry to hear that. What a guy! Larger than life! Hey, come on back in with me, Joey, let’s have a drink and catch up!”

Joey hesitated for a second, flustered that he had no idea who the woman was.

He was hoping something about her would become familiar if he went in for a drink. He was also a bit embarrassed that he had nothing really to tell about his life.

He got out of the car and tried to take a better look at her under the street light. She was pretty enough, and she actually had long red hair. He had a thing for redheads, although he had never dated one.

Joey was surprised when the woman slid her hand into his. It was soft and surprisingly familiar.

She gave a little squeeze. Joey squeezed back.

The woman found an empty booth, tucked away in a corner away from the crowd. When the server came over, and she ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. Joey knew from experience he was in trouble. “Drink a couple of those and the woman won’t be a stranger anymore,” he mused.

He ordered a double bourbon, hoping it would loosen him up.

Joey Rosedale pondered what to do. Should he be honest and admit he hadn’t recognized the woman, or just roll along with her and hope he for something she said to tip him off? He decided on the latter, hoping for a clue,

The redheaded woman took a long sip of her Long Island Iced Tea and began to speak. She

spoke a lot, starting with what was presently going on in her life, working backwards, weaving tales around and around. Joey hoped he could use some of her meandering soliloquy to figure out how or where he might know her.

The woman worked as a nurse at a local hospital. In spite of his weight, Joey was healthy and had never been in the hospital, so there was no possibility he had met her there. She told Joey that she was single but has been married twice before. She married her first husband fresh out of high school. Joey asked his name, hoping for some familiarity, but he had never heard of the guy before. She met her second husband on a whirlwind vacation to Mexico, and although they had tried it long distance for a while, it didn’t work out. She liked being single, she said, and was not really looking for a third husband. She reached across the table and squeezed Joey’s hand again, which left him even more confused.

She stopped talking once or twice, long enough to ask Joey if he was married and what he did for a living. “Never married,” he replied, “I’m an engineer for the city.”

The woman didn’t seem to even hear what Joey said and continued to talk. She told him about her travels, which she enjoyed, and her family, whom she didn’t, but she was vague and nothing rang a bell.

After what seemed like hours of the woman talking, she suddenly seemed to run out of words.

She was deep into her second Long Island Iced Tea, and Joey had finished his second double bourbon.

Joey waited for her to begin talking again, and she finally did.

Once again, she reached across the table and took his hand.

“You know Joey, I have never forgotten you. Those were the most difficult years of my life. My parents had just divorced and my mom and us kids were barely getting by. School was my sanctuary and you were a big part of what saved me.”

It was then that Joey remembered. He remembered a little red haired girl sitting in front of him in second grade. He remembered how he loved her in that sweet and naive way that only a seven year old possesses. He remembered sharing his bologna sandwich with her when she had none, and sitting in the corner of the classroom reading to each other. He remembered how she had saved him too, a fat little kid, whom no one else liked.

This time Joey grabbed her hand, and whispered, “Celeste Crezenzi. It’s so nice to see you again. I’ve never forgotten you. I’m so glad to have you back.”