It was Friday, November 14, 1969, when she decided to finally go inside the neighborhood bar.

“Can I get you anything?” the bartender asked while rinsing glasses in the sink.

“Piña colada, please,” she replied and settled on a stool at the empty end of the bar.

“Ahem … may I see your ID?”

“Oh, sure!” she answered, smiling as she pulled it out of her backpack.

With a slight head movement, she checked out the place – a simple rectangular room with doors to the rest rooms and a private room. There was a couple at one of the three tables by the jukebox and the exit door, blowing smoke while munching on free beer nuts. The 5th Dimension’s ‘Wedding Bell Blues’ playing on the jukebox blended with the animated conversation between buddies at the other end of the bar.

“Hmm … they’re probably in their 50s,” she thought, colonoscopy being the topic she overheard.

As she sipped her drink, she noticed one of them stealing glances at her. With her face transfixed forward, she moved her eyes and through her raised right eyebrow she tried to ascertain who it was. The same man must have caught her furtive attempt since he lifted his beer mug in her direction. She enhanced the smile that was already on her face when she turned to nod at him.

Brushing aside the fleeting visual exchange, she took another sip and started to dwell on how her week unfolded.

“Hi!”

She jumped! The greeting was from the same man!

“Hello!” the word barely coming out of her mouth as she acknowledged his presence.

“May I join you?” he asked, easing himself into the stool right next to her.

“Sure!” she replied, stifling a giggle at the sight of the lingering beer foam on his mustache.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he said. “You look so young!”

“Aww … ” she murmured, lowering and moving her head slightly away. “I turned twenty-two a month ago.”

“Belated Happy Birthday!” he greeted, offering his hand. “I’m Colin.”

“Thank you. I’ll tell you my name only after … em … “ she hesitated and then with a chuckle she said, “after you’ve wiped the beer foam off your mustache!”

“Darn!” he exclaimed, reaching for a cocktail napkin. “I’m sorry!”

“I’m Halo,” she said. “You may ask my mom to explain.”

They laughed as they shook hands.

After what seemed to be an awkward start, they chatted like old friends over another round of piña colada and beer. He now was conscious of wiping the foam off his mustache while she started feeling comfortable and safe meeting someone decades her senior in a bar. She was a student teacher at the college and he was a manager at a corporation.

“Oh, I’m not married!” he blurted as he caught her eyes glancing at his ring finger. “I’ve had several girlfriends and I almost got close to getting hitched.”

“What happened?”

“Umm …. ” he wavered. “I don’t think I am the marrying kind.” He paused and then continued, “Besides, I don’t want to end up being a tally mark on the divorce chart.”

Just In time to break the ticklish moment, Marvin Gaye’s ‘I Heard It Through the Grapevine’ started to pulsate on the jukebox.

“Like to dance?” Colin asked.

“Here?”

“Yeah! Why not?”

“Oh, okay!”

Their steps were measured and tentative at first. With free hands swaying, they attempted to match each other’s steps. Once synchronized, their whole bodies bobbed and hobbed to Marvin Gaye’s Billboard top hit.

“Far out, Halo!” he hollered as he circled around her.

And then, unforwarned, he grabbed her waist with his right hand and, with his left on her right hand, he pulled her close and lowered her backward!

The dip was such a surprise!

“Go, Colin! Go, Colin!” his buddies cheered. The couple at the table clapped and the imperturbable waiter even smiled.

“Oh, my!” she cried, shaking the slight dizziness off her head.

“Are you okay?” he asked, holding her close to keep her steady.

“I didn’t expect that, but it was fun!”

“Can we go someplace for coffee?”

“Sure!”

“Have fun, birthday boy!” crowed his buddies as they walked by them. He waved them off!

“Your birthday?”

“Yeah, but no more big celebrations when you hit fifty!”

Promptly, they both sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to each other, Colin adding ‘belated’.

They laughed as he led her to his car, a black 1965 Cadillac Coupe Deville. She gave him a good look. He was quite tall, good build with piercing blue eyes, his loosely-curled blonde hair covering much of his balding head.

The cold November air snuck through the slightly open front windows as the car sped away. His right hand stretched over the long front seat for her left hand while continuing to steer with his left. They both smiled, turning slightly sideways towards each other.

After awhile, she wondered, “Wait! We drove past several coffee shops. Where is he taking me?”

Colin must have sensed her concern since she felt his right middle finger gently rubbing the palm of her left hand.

The black Coupe DeVille coasted into the driveway of his house – a nice ranch. In the living room was a greenish-blue, full-size sofa, flanked by an end table with a tall lamp and an old, dry aquarium with African violets in it. An unlit candle enclosed in a cylindrical, metal lantern with cutout geometric designs was on a round coffee table.

A baby grand piano occupied one corner with more African violets in a well-lit glass case right under it.

“You play piano, I assume?” she asked, standing by it as he raised and propped the lid.

“Yeah!” he replied. “I can still make coffee, if you want some,” he offered while checking the keys.

“Not anymore. I just want to hear you play.”

She smiled as his fingers effortlessly played melodious pieces. The resonant sound made her sway with closed eyes. They snapped open when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

He drew close the floor-length window curtains and replaced the lantern once the candle was lit. When he turned off all the lights in the house, the long shadows on the walls and curtains appeared in an instant. He carried and laid her on the sofa. She smelled the lingering malty aroma of beer as he blew into her ear, his mustache grazing it. The shadows flickered as the air rushed about the greenish-blue, full-size sofa.

A sleep twitch roused her in bed. She turned to look at Colin’s face which was backlit by the only light from the night light on the wall. His snore was soft as a whisper.

“I like this man,” she pondered. “He was a perfect gentleman who did not insist on doing beyond what I allowed.”

Eyelids still heavy, she went back to sleep, nodding as if to concede that older men fascinated her. They somehow offered the comfort that she seemed to miss, her dad passing away when she was still an infant.

She awoke to the delectable smell of breakfast, the beauty of freshly-plucked, multi-colored mums on the night stand by her side, and the warmth of the morning sunlight.

“Thanks for helping celebrate my birthday,” he said as he raised his coffee cup.

“My pleasure,” she replied, attempting to cover the blushing in her face with her cup.

“Can I see you next weekend?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said without hesitation.

“I’ll park in the vacant lot in the back of your apartment building,” he replied. “I’ll blink my headlights when I see you looking through your apartment window.”

Weekends with him followed. Like clockwork, he was always in the parking lot with his Coupe DeVille’s head lights blinking, day or night.

“Say, I’ll be delivering a speech to my fellow graduates at the college in May,” she said one early spring weekend. “Can you help me with it?”

“Sure and I’ll be the first one there to watch you deliver it,” he replied as he finished a wooden picture frame inside his garage. “Oh, and by the way, I’ll be out of town starting next weekend. I’ll be gone for a few months.”

“That’s okay,” she replied, gulping as if to shoo off the impending loneliness.

Schoolwork and a part-time job took up most of her waking hours, leaving her no time to feel the emptiness. She did yearn to hear his voice but hesitated to ask for the out-of-town phone number.

Graduation day came without any word from him. She was just about to start sharing her thank yous when someone among the crowd at the far end of the auditorium caught her attention.

Standing on the raised entrance was Colin with an ear-to-ear smile and moistening eyes!

It took her awhile to clear the lump in her throat before proceeding to complete her speech.

“I am so happy to see you!” she exclaimed as she rushed to him, the bottom of her black graduation gown and light blue cap tassel lagging behind. “I didn’t think you’d ever come!”

“I would not have missed this for the world!” he said, her tight embrace almost muffling his voice.

“How was my … er … our speech?” she asked. “Did you like it?”

“Of course!” he said, quickly dabbing his eyes with his white pocket square. “I am so proud of you!” He then held out his hand that was holding a gift-wrapped box. “Oh, and this is for you. I know you’ve been asking for one.”

“Thank you,” she replied, hugging it.

“Great job, Halo!” cried a good-looking, young man who dashed to embrace her as she faced him.

Colin pulled back with raised eyebrows and a slackened jaw.

“Oh, this is Tony,” she started to say as she turned to introduce him to Colin, “And … “

“Uhm … excuse me,” Colin stammered. “I … I … I have to go!”

Horizontal wrinkles appeared on her forehead as she saw him disappear in the crowd. She tried to follow him to ask for an explanation for the sudden shift in his demeanor but he just vanished into thin air, his black Coupe DeVille nowhere in the parking lot.

Disappointed, she joined Tony and family to celebrate the occasion. She tried hard not to allow the letdown offset the commemorative atmosphere.

In the days that came, she attempted to reach Colin, exploiting all possibilities. He seemed to have moved to a different state without a forwarding address. His phone number was of no use, the area code having changed. Stopping at the same bar was fruitless since the bartender didn’t know of him and his buddies disappeared just as he did.

She strained to find reasons for his quick disappearance. She did know him to be a jealous type. He was also non-confrontational and passive, avoiding any untoward situations whenever he could. She just couldn’t think of him as rude since he was a civil man.

“Could it be that on graduation day, he was there to also say goodbye?” she wondered. “And seeing me with another man was just too much for him to bear? He never said that he loved me and he never made promises. What was I expecting?”

He just vanished. Someone who, in a short time, she became enamored of. He was not only a loved one, but also a friend and a confidante. Importantly, he was someone who seemed capable of offering a deep comfort to a fatherless, 22-year-old that she was.

The passing of years found her still single and now a member of the college’s teaching staff. Gone were the years of dwelling on the what-ifs and the search for a paternal surrogate. Gone also were the feelings of hurt and rejection. Instead, she grew to be more definitive and in charge of her emotions. Significantly, she became more appreciative of the short time she was with Colin.

A letter made it to her mailbox one day. The envelope looked yellowed and had crumpled corners. “Return to Sender” and “Address Unknown” were scribbled and stamped on it.

She opened it. Inside was a simple printed note.

“Your name is in Colin’s address book. We would like to tell you that he passed away.”

She felt a sharp pain in her chest as she hurried to look for any other message on the sterile note. Finding none, she caressed his name with her right index finger.

“If only he knew,” she whispered.

She drove by her old haunts on her way home one November afternoon. The neighborhood bar now was a cell phone and computer repair store. The apartment building seemed neglected. The Venetian blinds in her unit were down and askew. The nearby parking lot where a Coupe DeVille with blinking lights used to be was overtaken by weeds and garbage.

She drew in a wisp of the crisp and cool autumn air that snuck through the slightly open car windows as the scene vanished from her view.

“Hi!” greeted a young boy at the door. “Come and look at what we bought.”

He took her arm and led her to the dining room. On the table was a birthday cake and a picture in a homemade wooden frame.

Her head jerked a little, her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes blinked to block the escaping tears.

With cousin, Tony, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, she was struck with a deep longing as she looked at her son’s piercing blue eyes and loosely-curled blonde hair.

Slightly visible in the driveway was a black 1965 Cadillac Coupe DeVille with the engine still warm.

It was Friday, November 14, 1975.