“When I was your age, I dated someone who looked very much like Jordan.”“Seriously?”
She tipped her head to one side.
“Did it end badly?”
She had no idea how deeply the question struck.
I lowered my eyes to the kitchen towel clenched between my fingers.
“No.”
“It just…” I searched for the right word. “…ended.”
She clearly wanted the rest of the story.
Instead, I redirected the conversation.
“Have you learned anything else about him?”
“A little.”
“What does he study?”
“Architecture.”
Richard had once planned to become an architect. Later, he changed his major to engineering because, as he had said, “Buildings don’t care about student loans.”
“What else?”
“He’s 20.”
“So he’s a year older than you.”
She nodded.
Not Boston.
That single fact answered one question while producing several new ones.
“His mom teaches elementary school.”
“And his dad?”
“I don’t know.”
She laughed.
“We’ve known each other for one afternoon.”
That was reasonable.
She slipped her phone back into her pocket.
“Actually…” Her smile appeared again. “I kind of already invited him over.”
“For dinner.”
“When?”
“This Friday.”
My eyes moved to the calendar beside the refrigerator.
Friday was only three days away.
She appeared slightly uneasy now.
“I just thought…” She lifted one shoulder. “…I’d like you to meet him.”
I smiled because that was what a mother was supposed to do.
“I’d love to.”
The answer came without hesitation.
The following three days seemed endless.
Whenever I convinced myself that I had invented the resemblance, Richard returned to my thoughts.
Riding the Green Line.
Eating cheap lunches near the harbor.
Stealing fries from my plate because he insisted calories did not count when they belonged to someone else.
For years, I had refused to think about him.
Not because my feelings had disappeared.
Because I had never discovered why he had.
We had discussed engagement rings and debated whether we would eventually live in the suburbs or remain in Boston.
Then, one morning, he called.
Something in his voice was wrong.
He did not sound cold or angry.
He sounded afraid.
“For what?”
“I can’t do this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have to leave.”
“Leave where?”
I laughed because his words were too absurd to take seriously.
“Richard, stop joking.”
“I’m not joking.”
“What happened?”
“I can’t explain.”
Silence followed.
“I love you.”
“Richard…”
“I always will.”
Then the call ended.
By graduation, he had disappeared so thoroughly that even our mutual friends could not tell me where he had gone.
For a long time, I questioned what I had done to drive him away.
Eventually, I stopped searching for an answer.
My life continued.
I married.
I raised Stormy.
Still, on quiet subway rides, I occasionally saw someone with dark curls and looked twice without thinking.
Not because I truly believed Richard would be there.
Because a small part of me had never stopped searching for him.
Friday came much sooner than I wanted.
Stormy adjusted the flowers twice and tried on three sweaters before the doorbell sounded.
“I think the poor boy will survive.”
She laughed nervously.
“I hope so.”
At exactly six, the bell rang.
Stormy reached the door first. I remained in the kitchen until I heard her laugh, then entered the hall.
Jordan offered his hand before I had a chance to offer mine.
“Mrs. Kaplan.”
“Doron is fine.”
“Thank you for having me.”
At close range, the resemblance felt even more disturbing.
It was not perfect.
But every smile pulled at a memory I had believed time had weakened.
Then he removed his backpack.
The blue teddy bear swayed from the zipper.
This time there was no possibility that I was imagining it.
It had the same uneven ears.
The same mismatched eyes.
There was no harmless explanation anymore.
Fortunately, Jordan quickly made himself comfortable.
Within ten minutes, I understood Stormy’s attraction to him.
He spoke thoughtfully, laughed without trying too hard, and included everyone in the conversation.
He listened.
Not politely.
Genuinely.
When Stormy teased him for carrying three separate notebooks, he laughed at himself before joining her laughter.
He was exactly the sort of young man a mother hoped her daughter would meet.
