In Love with a Jersey Girl

Maggie, dear sweet Maggie: I pray that somehow you will find this and dismiss all else I have written here to take this one shining moment of us into your heart and cherish it as I do you. For we, you and I, have lived twice: One life for ourselves and one for our dreams.

Their deceptions were considerable enough to cause a lifetime of worry. But every lie somehow remained undiscovered long after that day in Ocean City passed and as the calendar rolled by those apprehensions faded, marriages remained intact allowing two people guiltless reflection on a moment in each other's arms for twenty four hours one late September.

Social media creates opportunities to connect and reconnect with friends, relations and acquaintances. This fact is obvious and ubiquitous to all who use them. Anyone can be found on the internet and social media provides the tool. But what it has done sometimes is put two people together, having never known each other, and created an opportunity to find that both should have met long ago in another time and another place. This makes the engine of their connection, the always-available vessel that is social media, a magical daily necessity.

For Maggie Killian and Len Bartlett such a stumbling into the life of the other occurred and was nurtured over a period of years. In Jersey you can live blocks away from someone and never know who they are. Such was the case in Maggie and Len's lives, two people who grew up mere towns from one another.

One hundred and fifty miles of beaches an hour away from anywhere in the state puts every Jersey girl "down the shore" eventually. Some hate it. But far and away there aren't many Jersey girls who don't have special memories of summers on the New Jersey coastline and Maggie, a north Jersey girl, found herself going "down the shore" every time she had the chance even if only for a day. What had begun in high school and college continued throughout her whole life only now: with a husband and children.

Len Bartlett grew up on the Bayshore; that stretch of coastal water on the Sandy Hook and Raritan Bay. Even though it is waterview, the Bayshore is not a wealthy location indeed. Most of the towns along the Raritan and Sandy Hook Bay began their history as clamming, fishing or NY Ferry stops for people going someplace else in New Jersey. He grew up middle class yet existed in the "richness" of the bayside, ocean and its dunes.

The "cove", Deal, Seabright and Asbury Park were places he surfed when Summer days started with perfect rights at dawn and ended evenings when the wind quit and the waves got glassy. It was all he did as a kid, yet even at 40 he could still find an excuse to throw the board in the car, drive fifteen minutes and ride waves when he heard they were good for he never left the sea he loved and lived there with his wife, two children, a dog and a view of the great blue Atlantic Ocean.

These were attributes Len and Maggie discovered about each other quickly being 'friends' on a forum as pictures of friends, family and places shared with hundreds of others like themselves were posted with written greetings, amusing occurrences and thoughts for all to see. Besides a whole new raft of friends Len and Maggie were finding certain experiences and feelings they shared in their lives that mirrored the other.

North Jersey beaches are completely different from south Jersey beaches. Hundreds of those beach towns have a life and pace all their own and for ninety days of Summer every year, Memorial Day to Labor Day, those beach communities are packed with tourists. Hotels, boarding houses, cottages and rentals make up all the income a property owner is going to see all year in three short months. The crowds are so big: it pays off.

But once the summer ends, as if on cue, on the last day of the Labor Day weekend these towns empty. What had been a mecca of youth and young families sees anyone of school age disappear. These towns hang on keeping the boardwalk stores open for warm fall weekends but predominantly those cottages close for "the season", hotels lower their rates, bars and restaurants go into off-season mode, parking meters need not be paid and even stoplights are switched to blinking yellow. To visit a shore town off-season is to have the whole place to oneself.

This drastic change is most obvious in Ocean City New Jersey: a place Len spent two summers as a teenager living at his parents beach house just before college, work and life made it impossible to do again. When he discovered Maggie had worked in OC at the same time it generated a constant stream of fascinating communication between them. Personal messages only they would understand from back in that day along with pictures gave them both a sense of reverie.

That summer had been one of their most fondly remembered: unassailable as the best one of their lives. In that particular beach town, in that special summer, in the vibrancy of endless possibilities; neither had known the other existed. That shared yet unshared summer of their youth caused Len and Aggie to became the best of online friends: friends who had never met.

It was in the spring when he started posting pictures of summer lifeguard stands on the sixty beaches in OC from the surfing beach at 1st Street to the last on 59th near the old pier. Finding many of them on line he started posting them to Maggie so as April moved into May, she was receiving a new picture of a different OC beach, their boats, its ubiquitous lifeguard stand, their warning flags and tourists on blankets in beach chairs or standing in the surf: beautiful lazy summer day pictures as a constant reminder to Maggie that Summer was coming. She loved it and Len through this contact became ever more enamored of this girl from his own state.

There are women who are beautiful. There are women who are sexy, witty, funny and interestingly attractive in their own way. But Maggie was lovely. In every picture he'd seen of her she was smiling. With her friends or husband or children and by herself: her curly blonde locks, her hazel eyes her polished exterior was always dominated by her wonderful smile. Len was fascinated by it. She was professional, confident and had a career of her own. He began to cherish her responses and comments to him which often could start and end his day.

Conversation he noted between the friends she chose to have online made it obvious she was happily married and proud of her family, yet was confident enough to have conversations with men without a burden of flirtation. These were Maggies attributes he accepted and respected yet both of them knew more about one another's personal lives than anyone reading their banter could have guessed.

And she was a Jersey Girl.

Anyone "searching" the definitive description of what a Jersey Girl really is will find offerings from proud women across the state:

"She's humble, but ambitious. She's independent, but family-oriented. She likes pizza, beer and lots of mascara, but don't think for a second that she's not sophisticated.

A Jersey Girl is one of the Garden State's most enduring icons- a readily identifiable personality, as much a part of America's cultural landscape as Frank Sinatra.

What the rest of the country knows about them would fill a thimble, but in the hearts and minds of Jerseyans she's a special female with a specific character indelibly inscribed into Garden State pop culture.

She loves a good time, she's got a certain sense of style and she's got attitude. She's a girl who enjoys the mall, might wear more makeup than the Ivy League would approve of, and gives some thought to her hair. She's got a mouth on her. She says what she means. And she's got a nice, cheerful laugh. She's spunky and witty, and she handles competition very well. She's got that confidence and not much holds her back.

A Jersey Girl has the tenacity and drive of a New Yorker, but with the beauty of warmth and humility that being from Jersey is all about. Don't mistake her toughness as a lack of refinement. Don't misjudge her sometimes "brash" manners as a lack of 'classiness.' "

It was the summer of last year when Len and Maggie sent each other pictures and messages among the online correspondence came admissions of how much they missed going down the shore then one day out of the blue he messaged her that they should meet in Ocean City some day and see how its changed.

There was nothing wrong with Len's marriage. He had his own surfer girl. His kids were great and his life was on track and in order. But he wanted to see Maggie standing in front of him, see that beautiful smile and like compatriots who shared something no other two people did, he had a fantasy of reliving the places and things they'd both done on their best summer ever with someone who knew as well as he how great those times were.

Len's off-hand request received no response. Maggie had ignored his suggestion. Perhaps she had dismissed it as an inappropriate indiscretion. He considered explaining himself then let it drop. Nothing more was said and they continued posting each other in truly grand style as if he never sent the personal suggestion in the first place. He was glad of it. Their texts continued to be warm, friendly and as pleasant as ever throughout the summer. Then in mid- September he received her answer.

When he read it, he had hoped it wouldn't, but Len's heart soared.

"You still want to meet up in Ocean City?" Maggie had typed, "I could use a trip back in time."

The weather in September 'down the shore' is no different than August. But crowds are gone and if any youth are there at all: hooky is involved. Mid-week at the Music Pier in Ocean City, Len and Maggie's meeting place for an afternoon of reverie, hosted every manner of retiree and hanger-on imaginable. Regardless the Ocean City boardwalk was an uncrowded place even on this beautiful day in September on this particular Wednesday as it now belonged to two lucky summer souls.

It was a warm, fluffy clouded blue sky day with waves coming in and breaking gently on a shoreline virtually deserted. Len got there early thinking he'd wait for her. For some reason he thought he'd see her in the professional clothing she posted herself wearing on most of her pictures. It was late morning. Sitting on a bench on the Music Pier's south side and facing the sun was a vibrantly tanned woman wearing sunglasses in shorts, top and a light pullover. Her curly blonde shoulder length hair was unmistakable.

A strange shudder shook him nervously. When she recognized him, Maggie's smile was as warm as the sun itself and Len felt a foolish grin cover his face. He was standing in front of her for the first time.

"Oh my god, here we are! " she said. He laughed

He wondered how long it took her to get down from north Jersey.

"I thought maybe I'd see you on the Garden State," Len shook his head grinning, "Maggie, I didn't know if I should come or not. But I wasn't going to be the one to stand the other one up!. Just in case you didn't come I was gonna be here no matter what."

"I almost didn't," she admitted, "I was sure you would have understood, right? I was just going to send you a message tomorrow and say I was sorry but...This could look wrong to a lot of people."

"I am so glad we did it anyway." He interrupted and she laughed. He immediately liked her laughter: confident and out loud.

She was born and raised in New Jersey, specifically near the shore. beautiful in a unique way. She immediately struck him as a girl who possessed the ability to impress even with salty hair and sand under her fingernails. Although he'd heard her talk a lot about both with her online girlfriends he got the impression with her that makeup and shoes were optional, tan lines are embraced, has a strong attitude and a tough mouth, encompasses the phenomena of waking up more stunning than the night before.

Even as they stood there Maggie and Len began reliving the summer they both had spent in Ocean City twenty years ago. They stood at the Ninth Street railing overlooking the beach she used to populate with her friends whenever she didn't have to work. For that long past summer; Hogates was the boardwalk restaurant where she held a job waiting tables and Maggie wanted to see it again if it was still around. She described the teenage crowd so thick the beach towels were inches apart from the pier to the jetty the whole season.

"This is was where everyone came," Maggie couldn't believe she had never run into Len back then, "I guess you just weren't cool enough!"

"You would have made a big impression on me!," he assured her," but we never came down here. We were either surfing or had a party going on. You were on the preppy beach just in case you wanted to know. I never used to come here. Me and my surfin' buddies would go out at dawn every morning and ride waves. The surf used to break really nice off the rocks at 15th. It was always good. The lifeguards would kick us out at ten and we'd go the The Varsity, get something to eat then go find another break. We'd be surfing someplace all day. Then we'd hang out. I probably never went to any place you were at."

Her hair was different back then and she was skinnier she told him and that's when he told her how great she looked right now. She removed her sunglasses, smiled and looked at him. Maggie's beautiful hazel eyes were on his. She stepped towards him and they embraced. It was everything they expected and nothing like what they thought it would be.

For a few seconds he felt her hair against his face, sensed her fragrance and felt her arms around him. In those same moments Maggie felt his strength and the closeness of him pressed against her. This simple embrace was what she had been considering for months. Neither of them was letting go quickly. Maggie leaned back to look at him. When was it right to kiss this man? She waited and hoped he wouldn't and was almost disappointed when he didn't. How could it ever be right to kiss him; especially him? The excuse that a simple kiss on the lips would be OK, perfectly normal between friends, was a lie. His friendly touch alone had sent desire creeping into her heart. How do you fall for someone when you haven't ever met? How does everything you both say and everything you do make the other want more? What in god's name was going to happen?

Twenty plus blocks of Ocean City's boardwalk stretched out along the beach lined with shops restaurants and closed amusement stands. Maggie wanted to see what was left of the old restaurant so they walked the boards talking. What else but their families, work and travels did they have? Like congenial acquaintances, they talked about these in confident terms knowing each shared similarity and interest. Getting past that quickly carried their conversation to subjects limited to personal interests and shared characters and coincidences they had found talking online.

Hogates was now some other renovated restaurant. They walked to the Varsity for lunch instead. Who knew what forgotten meal they ordered for most of it sat uneaten as they talked in a booth across from one another.

"Len, for the longest time I thought you were from California," she said.

" I lived there for three years. It's a weird place: beautiful but weird. I was happy to move back "

"I knew there was something Jersey about you the whole time, though," she commented," you can't hide a Jersey boy from me even if you tried."

Jersey girls tough: are special females. They'll drive fast, pass you, cut you off and look in the rearview mirror to check out your reaction. Don't think they won't flip you the bird for your trouble because they will. They'll be the first to dump a drink on you when you spill yours on their shoes. They hang with their girlfriends and wait you out at a club. They get loud and they're proud. They've got a style all their own especially when it comes to their hair. They are fiercely protective and they've got big families and odds are you better not do them wrong because somewhere in that mix is probably an uncle or cousin who is "connected". There's not a Jersey girl who doesn't like the "boss" and most every one has Springsteen's music or has seen him in concert. Most of them love the shore. All of this Len accused Maggie of being and she agreed.

She laughed, reached across the table and took his hand. Had they met back then in one of those clubs, those all night crazy Asbury Park Wildwood clubs, he wouldn't have missed out on dancing with her; all night for that matter if he was any good at it!

You look great," he admitted," You know how to work a tan, Maggie, You look like you just spent a week here."

Somewhere during the conversation their feet touched and never retreated.

Had they met someplace else, Hoboken or Jersey City for lunch or drinks, this would have been a short afternoon. It would have been nice to finally meet and all, have some laughs then get back home in time for dinner after a pleasant short defining hour or two spent with someone interesting : met online.

For two people who lived for every moment by the ocean, surrounded by identical recollections shared on a warm autumn day at the beach where they'd find pleasure regardless, Maggie and Len discovered with each passing minute a depth to their hours together neither wanted to end.

They walked the beach. At the bottom of the steps down from the boardwalk sandals were left behind as they walked in that space between the tide and the sand. Water crept in and receded. Shells lay strew before them. Gulls wheeled overhead with cries loud enough to be heard over the sound of the waves. Altogether familiar and timeless they shared the afternoon on jetties, the long stretches of sand between talking going ankle deep in a still-warm ocean while listening to the faint noises of the boardwalk and the sounds of their own voices. Hours passed like they never existed. Once the limit of the boardwalk was reached, they turned around to return to their sandals. Len took this special woman's hand. Warm and soft, Maggie squeezed and left her hand in his.

Inside them both a whirlwind of emotions surged. This was the way it was supposed to be. Two people couldn't have been more connected at that exact spot and at that perfect time. They were meant to hold hands here. They were meant to walk the ocean they both loved. They were meant to be inexorably drawn back to a time when holding hands with a girl just happened and having a boy next to you walking the shoreline could describe a whole summer in one day.

They walked up the beach hand in hand without discovering any excuse to drop the others as both began praying for some undefined undetermined future unknown hurry to its conclusion. For each moment hand in hand that conclusion came closer and closer.

There was an electrical charge running through their grasp as real as anything they could imagine. For as long as he could stand it Len clung to this feeling until unable to resist another second he stopped and turned to her. Maggie felt it at the same time.

There are kisses when you are seventeen that are charged with desire. They are not offered. They are taken in ways that define and prove. Teens from their time handed out kisses like a million more were on the way for a thousand more lips. Had Len and Maggie met as teenagers on this same beach those kisses would have been shallow things tried on many more willing loves in the next week the next day or sometimes in the same hour. But this?

Maggie faced him tilting her head upwards. Her beautiful amber eyes were on his. Her lips waited. He bent to her mouth with a tenderness that waited patiently for a response. Their lips met and as she brought her arms around him an incredible kiss blossomed into the most delightful either of them could have planned for. The waves the sun, the gulls, this place all theirs and they among it fed the pang of want awaiting lovers if only they'd surrender. It brought open their mouths to tongues gentle and searching and began describing the exquisiteness of undiscovered passion in a place they hadn't expected.