Katie Bascombe stared out the window at the gas pumps in front of the store her family had owned for as long as she could remember. She still lived in the house next door.
Year after year she watched the world pass her by.
Locals popped in for a gallon of milk, diapers, or a loaf of bread. They shared a few bits of gossip, but not much goes on in a small town.
The world changed, but life for Katie never really did.
***
Before the days of self-service pumps, customers pulled up and her dad or her brother Nate ran out, washed the car’s windows, checked the oil, and filled the tank. From her perch, she’d sneak a peek at their license plates and imagine where they came from and where they were headed.
Sometimes the out-of-towners came in to buy a Coke, a pack of cigarettes, or a snack. She learned to make polite conversation like, “Where you headed? Where are you from? Wonderful weather we’re having. Try the blueberry muffins, my mom made them fresh this morning.”
Sometimes they’d grunt a response and ask for or just point at the key to the restroom. Other times they answered back and asked about her day. She feasted on their answers creating adventures in her imagination that were more exciting than stocking shelves and taking inventory. Katie enjoyed that rare feeling of being perceived as more than an extension of the cash register.
She took in every detail of their appearance. Hair, eyes, smile, or frown; suit, dress, or jeans; expensive shoes or sneakers. No detail was too trivial. She listened for a hint of an accent or a clue to their level of education. Her eyes searched their fingers for wedding rings or the white circle from where a ring used to be.
She wondered what, if anything, they noticed about her. Did they see the golden flecks in her chestnut eyes or her slightly crooked smile? Did they notice the unruly curls she pulled back into a ponytail, her bony elbows, or the breasts that seemed a bit large for her tiny frame?
Over the years, she didn’t resent the people who stopped seeing her as they moved seamlessly from point A to point B while she was stuck working in her family’s store. The store that only passed to her because Nate didn’t make it home from Vietnam.
Her body and spirit seemed to contract becoming smaller each year to fit into the world she had learned to accept.
How this smallness became the biggest part of her life, she couldn’t really say.
Maybe she was born into it. As soon as she was old enough to use the cash register at her family’s general store, she was expected to help out. Nate was learning the business, and she was learning her place in the grand scheme of things. Who needs to go to college when they’ve been handed a job for life? According to her father, Katie didn’t.
After Nate died, Tom Bascombe, Katie’s boyfriend, worked at the store until he received his draft notice.
Before Tom shipped out, he and Katie agreed that what happened in the next eighteen months in Hollings and Vietnam didn’t count. He didn’t want her to spend her senior year tied to someone who might not be coming home. If he made it, they’d get back together if it were meant to be.
Tom wasn’t the great love of her life. Katie doubted she was his. Still, she willingly surrendered her virginity in the back seat of his ’65 Mustang. It was the first time for either of them. After the initial awkwardness, she felt the flutters of promised pleasure until he cried out, and it was over. The act itself took slightly more time than shedding their clothes and putting on the condom. He kissed her and held her tight, grateful she’d given him the gift of manhood before he shipped out the next day.
***
Eighteen months later, Tom came home, and they were married in a small ceremony at the local church. He promised they would save up for a proper honeymoon to Hawaii. He’d spent time there on R&R, and Katie who’d never been on an airplane or even left the state of Pennsylvania dared to let herself believe him.
Tom never spoke about Vietnam, and Katie never mentioned a certain summer, and a certain boy.
***
The years passed, and Hawaii kept getting postponed. It wasn’t an exciting marriage, but Tom was a gentle and thoughtful lover.
Katie briefly escaped from behind the counter when her children were babies.
After her father died, he left the business to Tom and Katie. Her mom retired and watched the kids, so Katie could go back behind the counter at the store.
***
A week before her fiftieth wedding anniversary, Katie looked out from behind the counter at a black SUV with New York plates. The driver walked around the vehicle, made his selections, and inserted the nozzle into the gas tank. He glanced up at the store. Katie walked to the front window and pretended to adjust a sign, so she could get a better look at him. There was something familiar about him, but he was wearing sunglasses. Dozens of SUVs from New York stopped at their store for gas on their way to expensive mountain cabins and resorts.
A teenager, about 16 years old, got out of the passenger seat and walked toward the store. Katie scurried back behind the counter. He smiled as he entered and said, “Good morning. How are you today?”
He saw her.
He grabbed a shopping basket and picked up a bag of chips and two iced teas before stopping at the baked goods. She studied him. He resembled the driver. Probably a grandson, but with men you never know. The man could have a young wife, and that could be his son.
They chatted briefly as she rang up his purchases. He and his grandfather were headed to their family’s cabin for the weekend.
That must be why the man looked familiar. Maybe she’d seen him dozens of times going to and from their cabin.
“Do you visit often? She asked.
“My great aunts and great uncles and their families do. It’s the first time my grandad has been back in a long time, and it’s my first visit.”
She casually glanced at the name on the credit card, Edward W. Cates V. The Cates family owned a hundred-acre compound. She’d met a few employees, but never an actual Cates. The boy was nothing like she expected someone so rich to be. When she looked at him, he reminded her of someone, but who?
Katie didn’t mention it to Tom, but all night she wracked her brain trying to figure out how she knew the man.
***
A few days later, the man parked the SUV in front of the store. He was alone this time. He strode inside and looked right past her. Without a word, he went to the baked goods section. He grabbed three packages of the cranberry muffins his grandson bought.
“I see you enjoyed the muffins,” she said.
He nodded as she rang them up.
“I’m sorry, but have we met before?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.” He mumbled.
“You look so familiar. It’s something about your eyes. Your grandson has the same eyes.”
He looked up in alarm.
“How do you know he’s my grandson?”
“We chatted for a moment. He’s a polite young man.”
”Yes, he is. You see so many people in your line of work. I imagine we all start to look alike after a while.”
“No. I thought the same thing at first, but I’m sure I know you. I’m sure we met in Hollings because I’ve never been anywhere else. I was Katie Kemper back then. Now I’m Katie Bascombe.”
He studied her face. He could tell she’d been beautiful in a ‘girl next door’ way. Women in his social circles didn’t age naturally. The lines on her face were foreign to him. Since his divorce, he’d grown accustomed to dating younger and more stylish women. The woman behind the counter was thin even by New York standards. Too thin for his tastes, but her breasts were nice. Still, he couldn’t imagine why he’d want to remember her.”
She seemed to read his mind.
“I looked much different in my day. Life happens, you know. I stayed in Hollings my whole life. Not changing changed me. It would be nice to remember a forgotten love, and be remembered.”
He looked at her again.
“The summer before I left for the Naval Academy, I spent some time up here being Eddie instead of Edward Llewellyn Cates III. I had long hair, and lived in t-shirts and blue jeans. I honestly don’t remember much about that time. If you were one of the girls… women I met, I hope I wasn’t a total ass. Maybe we forget because we’ve mastered the lesson, and we can let it go.”
Katie felt the sting of his dismissal. She wasn’t worth remembering, and he was fine with that.
“Forgetting is different from choosing not to remember, Mr. Cates. Maybe that’s all I need to remember about you.”
She stepped from behind the counter and began rearranging the baked goods. He sighed and closed his eyes searching for a memory that wasn’t there. She heard the bells on the door jingling as he left, but she didn’t turn around.