Eileen (Short Story)

The sky is grey and passers by wear a gloomy expression. I embark on a walk to the newspaper stand. The chilly breeze encourages me to think I am a man still sensitive to some things. I was called insensitive on the phone yesterday when I broke up with Eileen. At least she heard from me.

***

I saw Eileen for the first time a month back, on a sunny day under clear blue skies. If the weather that day were personified, it was she, sitting beside me on the park bench. She was playing with a flower and seemed at peace with her world. I ignored her and sat brooding about my wife.

***

Three years back, there was a waitress at the coffee shop I frequented daily. She quit before I could have a conversation with her which did not involve the menu. One day, while I was at the coffee shop, the same woman was seating herself in front of me saying she had known she would find me there. We had many conversations after that; some of which did bring up the menu- but of the various restaurants we went to.

I confessed both my dreams and fears to her. She always laughed at my fears. Watching her amusement made me less afraid that they would come true. She never laughed at my dreams. I married her because the familiarity between us seemed to call for it. In the time I spent with her, I came pretty close to knowing what Love is. But it was as if she didn't intend I fully find out.

***

"Eileen," said the woman in the park as a way of introduction and offered me her hand to shake. I gave her a weak handshake and remained not facing her. She had interrupted my meditations. An image of my wife in the coffee shop came to my mind. She was behind the counter adjusting her hair. This picture was out of sequence. I had lost my flow.
"I give up," said Eileen. "You have given me too little information to guess your name."
I turned and looked at my companion on the bench. She gave me a bright smile. I had the urge to get up and walk away but instead, I told her my name. Soon, we were talking and I quit trying to escape.
"Are you single?" she asked me unhesitatingly.
"Yes," I said after some struggle. We were now walking, having discovered we were both headed the same way.
In the end, we agreed to meet again.

***

I began to like Eileen a lot. She was lighthearted and easy to talk to. I confessed my dreams and fears to her. To my surprise, she laughed at my fears. Her laughter was infectious and I felt better about my life. She never laughed at my dreams. One day, when I looked into her face, I realised what was going on and I stopped seeing her. Yesterday, I called to formally break it off.

The similarities were eerie. Eileen was everything like my wife. She had the same smile, the same way of conversing with me, even the same likes and dislikes. I could not now look at her without remembering my wife.

I reach the newspaper stand. An image of my wife comes to mind. She lay in the hospital bed in the last stage of her illness. We held hands for the last time. A year has passed since then.

I purchase a newspaper and try to return home before it rains.