Never Say Never

Mya O'Malley teaches us the heartwarming benefits of positive thinking in this sweet love story...

I never kiss and tell. Well, hardly ever. There was that time in middle school, but those years are so far in the past I can barely reach the memory. When I was young, I thought thirty was old as dirt, so I guess the forty- three makes me older than dirt.

I laugh aloud and brush the thought aside as I text Ellie back. She’s asking if I kissed the man I went on a date with last night. My daughter is far too inquisitive for her fourteen years. I always call her Nosy Nellie, a play on her name she both detests and delights in. Her dad and I are on good terms and she takes ownership of her ability to meddle like a boss in his business as well.

No, I type, but even if I did, I wouldn’t say. But, I didn’t, so that’s that. And I wouldn’t tell. The few dates I allowed myself to be talked into by Ellie would never amount to anything, so why bother? I sigh. I think I’m finished with the endless hoops of dating, the whole business of getting my hopes up and then bounding down the slide destined for disappointment.

I sip my coffee at the tiny diner. Years ago, I worked in this quaint, cozy seaside café, while putting myself through college. It’s barely changed a bit and the fact wraps me like a warm blanket.

“What are you reading now, Carly?”

I bounce from the words on the page in front of me to the waitress standing before me. I flash the cover at Tammy and watch for her reaction. Tammy and I have had many discussions about books. Her love for stories and escapism is just as strong as mine. This time it’s non-fiction; a book about manifesting and positive mind set.

“Let me know how it is.”

I nod and sink back into the world of manifesting my dreams and desires. Scrumptious, I think. Simply scrumptious. Even though my dream of finding the love of my life hasn’t yet come to fruition, I eat up these ideologies like pumpkin pie with whipped cream.

A woman pauses to chat on her way to the bathroom. I hear snippets of the conversation, but what draws my attention is the familiar cadence of her voice, and the name of her son. Austin. Austin.

It couldn’t possibly be the same Austin, but then again it could, in a sleepy seaside town like this. I glance up and can’t contain my gasp. Austin’s mom turns at the sound and her eyes search me over until I see her well up with recognition. How could she remember me, after all these years? Mrs. Araballe and her family moved out of town right after high school. She took her son and my heart along with her to the west coast.

“Is it?”

“Carly.” I supply my name for her to save her the embarrassment in case she forgot.. “Hi,

Mrs. Araballe,” I can hardly contain my expanding grin. I get all the feels looking at this woman. I’m instantly brought back to the innocence you can only hold during youth.

“I remember your name, sweetie, you practically lived at my house, and besides, I’m not that old.”

I giggle and instantly feel the tug on my heart as I can almost smell the gooey chocolate chip cookies she used to bake.

“And besides, Austin could never forget the love of his life.” She puts the last phrase in air quotes. I blush furiously and struggle to gain composure.

“I–”

“Oh, you know it’s true. He even tried looking you up years ago on that social media site all the kids are on, you know–”

I nod and save her the trouble of trying to remember the name of the site. I hate to admit it, but I’m guilty of the same action. I’m not surprised he hadn’t found me because I hate social media and deleted my account on the site years ago. Looking up Austin hadn’t proved to be much fun at all, after seeing photos of his pretty wife and what looked to be his daughters, posing with their puppy, I promptly shut the site down without bothering to research further.

“Tell him I said hello, will you?” I say as I sip at the last of my coffee. I see Mrs. Araballe exchange a quick grin with Tammy before I give her a hug goodbye. Is it possible that she still smells of sugar? I excuse myself and make a trip to the bathroom before I leave.

Tammy is still chatting with Austin’s mom when I return. I reach for my book and then clutch it tight to my chest. I welcome the memories of Austin as I step outside. The autumn sea breeze slaps my face and I turn my gaze toward the ocean across the street. Austin occupies my senses; he and I at the prom, those butterfly kisses that turned up the heat on the very beaches that stand before me, his cologne, his smile, his voice, his touch. I drop my book with a thud on the sidewalk at the crispness of the last memory. I pick up the book and dust it off. I have to halt this line of thinking, Austin is married with kids, and well, he’s married. A peek of pink catches my eye as I draw the book close to my chest.

“What the?”

I finger the note nestled inside the pages of my manifesting book and gasp. I hold a hand to my chest and freeze.

I still recognize Austin’s mother’s handwriting. Beside a phone number, she has written what I can only think of as a manifestation miracle come true.

He’s closer than you think, and no, he’s never been married.

I must have mistaken the beautiful wife and child as his sister and her girls, I now realize. His sister had been older and away at college when we had dated. I barely knew her.

Closer than you think?

By close I know that he’s right here in this town. I feel his heart beating in this small town in time with mine, it’s just a matter of finding him. I don’t worry, for something bigger than both of us tells me there’s no urgency, what’s meant to be is meant to be, and we will find each other.

Never say never, I tell myself as I hold my book of miracles to my chest. I think of Nosy Nellie. And this time, I think I just might kiss and tell.