Her Name Was Jane

A woman I have known for a few months asked one day about “that woman who left that haunted look in your eyes”. She didn’t ask what happened to her. For some reason, she was just curious about how we met. She asked a couple of questions, each time referring to “that woman”. That woman had a name.

Her name was Jane.

Once, many, many years ago I took one look in a pair of green eyes surrounded by a mass of red hair and fell instantly in love. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that quick, but for sure I was thunderstruck at that very moment.

We were dancing the first time I really looked into her eyes. Just a moment before, my favorite song of all time, “Since I Fell For You” by Lenny Welch, began to play. I was by myself at an outdoor festival listening to music coming from the bandstand while the band took a break and music played from a jukebox.

That song always affects me and makes me want to dance. Let me explain how rare that is. If I were to count the number of songs that, when played, make me want to dance, I would only need one finger.

As the song began, I quickly looked around just as she and a couple of her girlfriends were about to walk past me. I touched her arm as she passed and said “Excuse me. . .”  I   mumbled something about this being my favorite song, that I had to dance, and asked “Would you dance with me?”

She looked at me and quietly said “Sure”. 

Then, she did something surprising. As she turned to walk towards the opening where people were dancing in the grass, she reached out and took my hand. I followed, lost for a moment in the song. When she turned, she put her arms around me and we began to slowly dance.

Neither of us spoke. She must have understood the song was special to me and she left me to my thoughts, to my memories. 

At some point,  we took a bit of a misstep. I turned my head to look at her and was absolutely hypnotized by the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen peeking out through thick strands of dark red hair. 

We both smiled at the awkward step and she said, “Oops”.  That was it for me. The song that usually was so moving to me suddenly just lost my attention.  I think I let a bit of a gasp. It was that dramatic.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” I said quietly.

“I could tell by your voice when you asked me to dance, the song was special for you. How could I not say ‘Yes’?” Her voice was a bit husky and had a playful lilt.

When the song ended, we stood there talking about the little trivial things one covers in an unexpected conversation with someone you just met. 

Then, she asked, “So, who broke your heart and made that ‘your’ song”? 

“Uh . . .”

“No! Wait!” she laughed. “I just met you, I can’t ask you that” and smiled again.

“It’s okay,” I said as I smiled back at her. “It isn’t really about one person. It is just about being in love and then being broken-hearted. It’s about romance and dreams of finding that special someone who will make that song never matter again”. 

“Wow. I don’t know what to say”.

For a moment she looked deeply in my eyes with a bit of a wry smile on her lips.

She started to say something, then suddenly said “Oh!” I forgot all about my friends. They were wanting to go so, I have got to run”.

“Thank you again for the dance. I really enjoyed it”.  

“I did, too. It was fun” she said as she turned to walk away. Then she stopped and said, “Wait”. She grinned and asked, “Aren’t you going to ask for my phone number, you big goof?” Her grin got larger as she said “Besides, I want to hear more about how that song puts such a faraway look in your eyes.”

Hopefully, my grin wasn’t too large as I blurted “Sure.”

“915 5554954.”

“Okay. 915 555 4954. 915 555 4954. Got it,” I said as I repeated the number to myself before saying “Wait.
I can’t leave this to my memory.”

I slapped my pockets, found my pen, but no paper.

“Just a second,” I said as I looked around us on the ground for something to write on. I picked up a rather dirty piece of paper that had a stain at one end that looked like ketchup.

“Here we go. 915 555 4954. Right?”

“Right.”

We looked at one another for a moment before she again flashed a shy-looking smile and turned away.
I watched her as she walked to her friends. Just before she got to them, she turned her head around.
When she saw me watching, she smiled and turned back to her friends.

Looking back to that night so many years ago it is like yesterday. I remember how it felt when she reached out and took my hand. I can hear that timbre in her voice, see that glint in her eyes, and the curve of her lips when she smiled. I can feel just how perfect it felt with her arms wrapped around me and still smell a hint of perfume. I hate to say such a sexist thing, but when she turned and walked away, I remember that I did not fail to notice that view was pretty good, too.

In the middle of that dance, when we stumbled a bit and first looked into each other’s eyes, we both knew. Knew? Knew what? We just knew.