Short Story

HOUSECALLS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Saunders Drive. On the right corner stood the library, looking exactly as it did the last time I saw it. Diagonally across the street was the church we attended every Sunday, the preacher bellowing about morals and principles. Directly across from the church was a quaint-looking inn with a sign over the doorway – “Welcome Home!” And on the fourth corner was the big Colonial house where the Casey Family lived.

Jeff Casey was my first boyfriend; feels like a hundred years ago. Now there was a prominent shingle on the front lawn which read JEFFREY CASEY, M.D. A doctor! I never should have broken up with him! 

My childhood house was a stone’s throw from the Casey’s. Not quite ready to see the old place just yet, I kept walking. About halfway down Main Street, I came across a boho-chic coffee shop/poet’s corner called “Beggars, Cynics and Euripides”. A pretty young woman wearing a rainbow tie dyed hippie skirt was preparing lunch tables outside. The freshly-painted red chair were staggering in their brilliance. She smiled pleasantly at me and asked if I’d like a table. 

“Why not?” I answered as she handed me a menu. I was engrossed in reading the descriptions of the lunch fare when I became aware of someone standing nearby watching me. Glancing over my shoulder, I was pleasantly surprised to see the still-handsome face of Jeff Casey grinning at me. 

“Rebecca Gardner! My God! What’s it been – 20 years? What brings you back to town?” 

“Jeff! You look great!” and I instinctively hugged him. “Please join me.”

The waitress took our orders for iced coffee and as we waited, that warm, relaxed feeling between us resurfaced. 

“Twenty years exactly. My folks sold the house after I graduated college. Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m here. Memories, you know?” 

We caught up on life – marriages, divorces, etc. – and I mentioned going to see my old house but for whatever reason I was nervous. 

Jeff tossed a twenty on the table and said “Come on. Let’s go together.” And before I could think of an excuse, he took my hand and we were on our way. 

“The Matthews Family lives here now. Nice people.” Jeff bounded up the front steps and rang the doorbell. No answer. 

The old oak tree was standing proud and tall in the front yard. My fingers lightly traced the weathered heart shape with our initials carved inside and we shared a smile and unspoken memories.

We strolled up Saunders Drive to Jeff’s place, neither of us in a rush for this bubble of serendipity to burst. Jess sighed. “Well, I’ve got patients to see.” 

“And I’ve got a train to catch” I replied. “Jeff, it’s been too long. Let’s keep in touch.” 

“I’d like that, Becca. By the way, I make housecalls.” He smiled over his shoulder as he disappeared inside. 

NAR © 2023

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33 thoughts on “HOUSECALLS”

  4. I went back to my childhood home once. It was up in Liverpool, I took my mum. She enjoyed chatting with the next door neighbour, who was still there, while I couldn’t believe I’d grown up somewhere so small. It was everything I’d imagined – just half scale!

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  9. The wheels of Fates are turning!
    If it’s woven in the Tapestry, it will be done… one way or the other… as long as people have the courage to make the step towards.

    Loving this open ended story, Nancy.

    ( Housecalls… have a few interesting stories but locked away)

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    1. Can you hear Steve Perry singing off in the distance? I can!

      This is a little vignette I may return to from time to time.
      Just like a Tapestry of life and love, it will get done … one way or another … it will get done.

      Now I’m hearing Carole King and Debbie Harry ☺️

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        1. You know, I once made a comment in passing to a friend about how Bill has no interest in other women; I was told I was a fool and all men cheat. That person is no longer my friend.
          Here are two things of which I am certain: I am no fool and Bill is a rare breed.
          I believe you’re familiar with that particular species.

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