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I lost my beloved Eva, the only woman I ever loved, my wife of 53 years, when we were both 72. She had been sick for about three years by then with Alzheimer’s Disease, but the worst times were the last year and a half, when the vibrant, brilliant and beautiful woman who was my wife and the mother and grandmother of our children and grandchildren, faded out as the person she was. For her last year, I visited her body every day in the nursing home, but the spark that made her who she was had been extinguished. Most days it was like visiting a blank page. But I loved her as much as ever. Nothing could extinguish that spark in my heart.
I sold our house in Durham in July because Eva was buried back in Wayne, PA, where we spent most of our lives together, and I wanted to be closer to her so I could visit her whenever I wanted. I found a nice condo in an adult community (for well to do residents over 50). I was near my sister Cammy (Camilla) and her husband Kyle, Vince and his husband Jamaal were not far in Maryland with their adopted son Gregory, and Rachel and her husband Tony were still in Chicago, where she was an accomplished concert pianist, and their daughter Sam, now 4, was a budding musician like her mother had been. Our eldest, Connor, and his wife Nancy and their 11 year old son Charles lived in Seattle where they were both professors at U of Washington. His son Oliver from his marriage to his first wife, was a computer scientist at one of the tech companies there. And my youngest (and my slight favorite) Maria and her husband Max still lived in the Durham area, where they owned two auto repair shops, with their daughter Laura (Daniel and Lena came later). As I’ve said before, it’s a testament to Eva that our children all are living good lives with their own families.
I got together with Cammy a couple of times a week, sometimes alone, sometimes with Kyle and other friends. I saw my old friend Larry once a week or so. He sold his interest in his restaurant business a couple of years back and had time to get together, sometimes for dinner, sometimes we took in a ball game. I made other friends in my new community, people I could go to dinner or a movie with. Sometimes in a group, sometimes with just one other person. I met a few women who were widows or divorcees, but I really wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship. I had my great love. It couldn’t happen again.
I still played tennis with some friends I met where I lived, and there was an indoor pool for year-round exercise, so I was in good shape and good health again after I had let myself go while I was taking care of Eva. My doctor warned me I was in danger of dying before Eva, and I didn’t want to risk that, leaving her alone in her state. I didn’t want my kids to have to give up their lives to care for their mother if I was gone.
I started volunteering at a public school in North Philadelphia, 3 days a week. With my background as a former principal, the Board of Education was pleased to have me and my skills in one of their middle schools. It was tough as hell at first; I had worked for almost 40 years, first in a good neighborhood public school when I graduated from college, and then in two private schools. The school I was assigned to was in a tough neighborhood and it was an interesting adjustment. But after a few frustrating months where I thought about giving it up, I got the hang of working with these kids. It filled my time and gave me a sense of fulfillment.
Nights were harder. I hated sleeping alone. I’m not referring to sex, though I did miss that (I was in good health again and I still had my desires), but I missed pillow talk and cuddling with a woman. Having someone to sing to, play my guitar for. I had spent over 50 years sharing a bed with Eva, and I didn’t get used to being alone at night in the year she was in the nursing home and the year and a half since she died.
I spent time visiting my kids in other parts of the country and sometimes they came to see me. I even went with Rachel once when she traveled to Salzburg, Austria, when she performed at the annual Mozart festival. It was even more exciting than when the family went to see her at Carnegie Hall. Tony and Samantha (Sam) were there as well, as were Cammy and Kyle. So life, overall, was busy. But still…
Some of the women I met were very interested in me. Some I found attractive physically, most were educated and interesting to some degree. It was nice to have dinner companions, especially female. I enjoy a woman’s company sometimes. But I didn’t meet anyone I was interested in beyond that. Until November of 2034, when I was almost 74. That’s when I met Olivia Camarena.
People moved in and out of the community I lived in at a faster rate than was typical for your average neighborhood. Simply, living in an adult community meant people died at a quicker rate, so condos were usually sold by the surviving family when there was no partner left behind. Even though this was a very upscale community (therefore, expensive), there was no shortage of people looking to live there. We had our own movies and live theatre, a few very good restaurants, a club for dinners and special occasions, lectures and lessons. It really was a very nice place to live.
One day I was at the pool with a few of men I was friendly with when we saw a new woman enter from the locker rooms. I say “woman” but really, she was a “lady”, in every sense of the word. She was relatively tall, about 5’8″, very slender and elegant, with dark complexion and silver hair in a short, well styled cut. She walked with confidence with straight posture. She passed by my group and smiled at us, not a teasing or flirting smile. Just polite and friendly. She wore a red wrap around her body, but she had nice, long legs that, as a healthy male, I appreciated. She sat about 20 feet away and took out her tablet and plugged in headphones and read a book under the artificial sunlight that was provided by a lamp over each lounge chair if you desired.
Me and my friends, Dale, Jerry, Tony and Tre, all noticed her. Dale was still married, but Jerry and Tre were single (both long divorced). We all still appreciated an attractive woman, even Tony, who was openly gay. And when she took off the wrap to go swimming, in a form fitting silver one piece bathing suit… well, attractive didn’t begin to do her justice. Her tummy was flat, her bosom was small but there. When she dived into the pool, she had excellent form, a smooth dive and a good stroke. Nice tush, too. I was actually a little ashamed of myself for checking her out so shamelessly like a dirty old man.
Being men, even if we were in our 60s and 70s, there was a little talk about the new ‘talent’. It wasn’t crude, but I wasn’t used to talking about a woman like that. I hadn’t been so physically attracted to a woman I saw for the first time since I met Eva all those years ago. So while my friends talked as if they were teens, I was silent. I felt like it was very inappropriate (it was, really, though not graphic) and in my heart, I was still in love with Eva. Looking at another woman the way I saw this stranger made me feel like I was being unfaithful.
Over the next few weeks, I saw her a number of times around the complex,’ and we always smiled pleasantly at each other and after a while we even started saying hello when we met. I noticed she made friends with a few women I knew socially. But so far we hadn’t formally met. That changed the weekend before Christmas.
The restaurant in the ‘club’ on the premises was pretty casual during the week, but if you went on the weekend, Saturday and Sunday nights, you were expected to dress for dinner. For men, that meant jacket, button down shirt and tie. Since we were almost all formerly professional men and women, we knew how to dress appropriately. For me, that Saturday before Christmas (it was a party that night, with live music), that meant one of my Brooks Brothers dark suits, a white shirt and a striped tie. Classic conservative. Since I knew most of the other residents to some degree, I went by myself at 8, knowing I’d get seated randomly at a table for eight. Sometimes I got seated with people I didn’t get along with, but usually it worked out just fine.
That night it worked out better than fine. Phil, the maitre d’, brought me to a table that just were seated right before I got there. 2 married couples, one casual couple…and the new lady. I knew the other three couples to varying degrees and Julie, one of the married women, said “Jon, have you met Olivia yet?” She looked up and me and gave a killer smile, perfect white teeth and light color lipstick. Big, dark eyes that were sparkling. And she wore a satin dark green dress that was just perfect on her.
“Well, we’ve seen each other around, but we haven’t been introduced yet. Hello, I’m Jon Grossman.” I offered my hand and she took it, long fingers, very elegant.
“Hello. I’m Olivia Camarena. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Man, my heart skipped a beat or two. There was something in her touch as well as her smile. I sat next to her and from that moment on, we talked almost exclusively to each other, almost ignoring the others at our table. At least none of them seemed to mind.