After all of this, I really only have one conclusion. Only one thing that I can really even truly guess at. Which is that Kay wanted something from me that she was lacking in her marriage. I can't guess exactly what it was. I am honest and frank enough with myself to recognize that perhaps she merely wanted someone who could make her pregnant, to fulfill her need for motherhood.
On the other hand, it could have been my honesty, my simple appreciation. Perhaps she sensed my generous soul, or even my gentleness. Some quality of "me" that caught her attention. I don't really know, and I suppose that this is something that will confuse me for the rest of my life.
I have seen Kay recently, at least in a photo. One day when I googled her, a photograph popped up. You could find it, too, if I told you her real name. Only a couple of years old. She was an organist for a wedding, and the joyful bride immortalized Kayon her wedding website.
I looked at the picture. A trace of gray in the soft, blond hair. A few fine wrinkles-she’s in her mid-fifties now. But still Kay. Still that warm and gentle smile—and somehow it didn’t surprise me, that in the midst of all of the gay colors of the wedding party, Kay was dressed in black. Still beautiful.
Truth be told?
Part of me would love to make a trip to the small town where Kay lives now. I think that I'd get a cabin on the lake, somewhere secluded, away from where everyone who walks past knows her. And I’d call Kay and ask her for that free haircut. Just to see if she would come to that cabin by the lake.
And if she came…
Well, I think that’s quite another story, yet to be written, now isn’t it?
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