Crush

Their wedding picture on a cake for their 30th wedding anniversary.

I grew up with the story of how my parents first met. It captivated me. “So really, your neighbours thought Dad was stealing bikes when he was just trying to see you?” I imagined snoopy neighbours peering through the cracks in their venetian blinds à là Gladys Kravitz from “Bewitched” then dialing the police station on their old-fashioned telephones. So that while the 20-year old version of my dad was standing on tip-toes trying to see over the fence, the police car would turn down the street, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Dad would turn nonchalantly and walk back to his car convincing the deputy he was simply taking a stroll down Susquehanna Avenue.

I’m sure that the real events were less tailor-made for a television episode than my imagination’s version, yet it is the story of a true crush that has endured for the last thirty-five years.

~

Dad had first seen Mom at the hospital. He was a construction worker with a swollen thumb because he had hit his thumb with a hammer building the local McDonald’s. (As a child, while biting into my cheeseburger, I’d look up at the ceiling and wonder which nail had brought my parents together, hence bringing me into existence). His boss insisted he go to the hospital even though Dad felt it was way too minor for the emergency room.

The sixteen-year-old that checked him into the hospital was my mother doing her duty as a “glorified candy-striper,” as she calls it. Dad was immediately struck by her round eyes, long, light-brown hair, and fair skin sprinkled with freckles. As he returned to his plastic chair in the waiting room, he sighed. His eyes never left her as she admitted other patients. She seemed so patient with those unfortunate to find themselves in the ER. Before the nurse came to lead him to the doctor, my dad made sure to catch one vital piece of information: her name. Her nametag mysteriously read: “M. Rebuck.”

~

The next day, sitting on the porch steps of his parents’ house, watching his best friend, Joe, toss a football into the air to catch it again, he couldn’t stop thinking about the girl he’d seen the day before.

“Joe, happen to know any Rebucks?”

He looked back with raised eyebrow. “Um, sure. There was a Steve in my class in high school. But I’m guessing it’s not him that you’re wondering about”

Dad had to smile. “Well, yeah, yesterday, when I went to the hospital,” he said, all the while looking down at his bandaged thumb, “I saw a fox, a real fox, and all I know is her last name’s Rebuck and her first name starts with an M”

“You didn’t ask for her name dude? Lame.” Joe shook his head in exaggerated consternation.

“Hey, whatever. I’m sure I have a chance with this chick. More than you would, Wink,” reverting to Joe’s childhood nickname.

“Alright, alright, I’ll ask my girl. Maybe she knows your Rebuck.”

~

And sure enough, she did. There were Rebucks on her street and the middle kid’s name was Maryrose.

“OK, man, when I find this girl and we double date, I’ll buy you your supper.”

“For me and my girl?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure”

~

He’d been back to the hospital several times during the week trying to see her again. He had nothing else to do—couldn’t work with a busted up thumb. But his efforts were fruitless. So now with the information from Joe’s girlfriend, he changed tactics, staking out her house, peering through the fence. But he never saw her and stopped going after the cop showed up.

~

So he went back to his old routine to the chagrin of the head nurse who was tired of seeing the love-sick young man lounging around the waiting room. One afternoon he noticed the schedule posted on the wall near the triage nurse’s station. He waited until she left her post for her five-minute break, then scanned the list for a Maryrose Rebuck. Evenings, she always works evenings, he almost clapped his hand to his forehead.

He drove home, took a shower, changed into a plaid shirt and a clean pair of bell-bottoms then returned to the hospital. His fresh face belied his sweaty palms. There she was. He waited until there was a break in the line of patients waiting to be checked-in. Then he wiped his palms on his jeans and stepped up to the counter.

“Hello, sir. What brings you to the hospital today?” She asked in her professional voice.

“You.” He immediately regretted the cheesiness of his answer.

“Excuse me, sir. I didn’t understand.”

He took a deep breath and tried again. “I came here to see you. Remember me? I was here two weeks ago with a fractured thumb.” He held it up to jog her memory.

“Sorry, I don’t seem to remember. I see so many people every day.”

“Oh, I guess so. Well, I was wondering if you’d come out to the races with me on Saturday night?”

The races! What kind of hick does he take me for! I don’t even know this guy! What a weirdo. Can’t someone normal ask me out? “Um, well, I’m busy Saturday night and really, to be honest, I don’t even know you.” She said it with a smile to not hurt his feelings.

“Oh okay. Some other time then.” He turned away dejected, but then turned back to her, “Hey, when’s your break? Then you can get to know me.”

Hmm…this guy’s perseverant at least. “Well in fifteen minutes I have a five minute break. Wait for me outside.” She’d noticed the disapproving look of the head nurse during the short exchange.

Great, a chance! “Okay sure. No problem. See you in fifteen.” Shoot, did I just sound like a dimwit?

~

Five minutes didn’t allow for much “getting-to-know-each-other” time, but Mom agreed to talk to him the next day during her break. It went on like that in five-minute snippets for over a week. Mom was flattered by his determination to spend time with her.

She started to talk about her meetings with her sisters. “Come, on, Mar, don’t be so cruel, let him take you out. He must really like you to come every day to spend just five minutes with you,” her younger sister Ellen advised. “What do you know about it? You’re just a kid,” Mom snapped back. But she knew she was right.

~

She agreed to go to the races with him. Dad thought (for some odd reason) that she’d be so impressed with the speed, noise, smoke. He even installed a new stereo in his car for the outing. She wasn’t impressed, but she tried not to let on.

Two years later they got married. Five years after that, they had me, soon followed by my brother and sister.

The crush has lasted all these years. Almost thirty-five in fact.

~

I was recently home for a short visit and was once again taken aback by their love for each other. Saturday morning they ate breakfast together, talking over the day’s plans while skimming the newspaper.

It was a rare Saturday when Mom had to work, so after breakfast, she went outside to start up her motorcycle. I was sitting on the living room couch when I hear my dad humming a song. How fun! A man humming at breakfast!

When Mom comes back inside, Dad goes downstairs to meet her to say good-bye. They kiss and Dad says “I love you.” Mom answers, “I love you too.” Then she says “Have a nice day.” Dad’s answer shows just how much he still has a crush on Mom. “Yeah, alright. But I won’t, because you won’t be here.”

From a writing prompt in The Sun.