Love Goes Old School

"Ryleigh, honey, I am so proud of you! I only wish your father could have seen you today. Valedictorian of your class and on your way to Yale this September!"

"Mom, please don't cry. If you do, I'll start crying and I don't want to feel sad today. It's hard enough to talk about Dad let alone think about him. I know he'd proud and I know you are, too. So no tears, okay?"

Margaret Porter promised her daughter she wouldn't cry as long as she could give her one more hug. "Deal," her daughter said.

"So what are your plans for tonight, Miss Valedictorian? Did I mention how proud I am of you, sweetheart?"

"Mo-oom!" she said. "Enough already. I'm just gonna hang out with Jason. I'll be home early, I promise."

"You're an adult now Ryleigh, so I'm going to have to learn to trust your judgment," her mother said with some reservation in her voice. "It's just hard letting go, you know? You're all I have and well, I know Justin's a nice boy but...."

"I know you don't care for Jason all that much, but he really is a good guy, Mom. And I really like him," she said pleading her case. Ryleigh was not only the smartest girl in school, she was also the most beautiful by far. Were she not so focused on her studies and her future, she could have pursued a career in modeling, but that held no interest for her. Microbiology was her first love just as it had been her late father's.

Her dad had been a doctor and played a leading role in researching infectious diseases. He was highly respected in his field, the love of her mother's life, and his daughter's hero. His death from a rare disease he contracted in West Africa was almost more than either of them could bear. They'd not even been allowed to see him except via a video monitor where he lay dying in a quarantined room inside a hospital somewhere in the DC area. There'd been a memorial but no funeral. The disease was so contagious and so deadly no exposure could be permitted. Ryleigh's dream was to find a cure for the disease and others like it and truth be told to find a man like him.

Marriage was a long way off, but that didn't stop Ryleigh Porter from dreaming about meeting a man like her dad who was handsome, caring, kind, and above all else, romantic. She had no interest in boys who wanted to hook up and then leave. Maybe she was old fashioned, but that's what she wanted. That said, she was no prude and she'd given herself to Jason, who was arguably the most handsome boy in school, the night of her 18th birthday. He was also smart and very popular. But Jason had other plans and other dreams and both of them knew it was only a matter of time until they went their separate ways. But for now, she just wanted to be with him and if they could find some time alone, she would very much like to make love with him.

They'd only done it four times, but the last time had been magical. Jason had learned how to hold off coming too quickly and Ryleigh had had not only her first vaginal orgasm but two of them back to back. She loved seeing his handsome face while feeling him inside her—filling her up. Just the thought of those two things was enough to cause her to generate large amounts of wetness between her legs and right now she was very wet. The only thought she enjoyed more was imagining one day being with the most handsome, most romantic man on earth on her wedding night when he would make love to her that way after having dated her long enough to make her feel certain she was the most important girl in the world to him. He would have 'courted' her the way she dreamed of being courted. Flowers, poems, little love notes, small gifts, sweet words, tons of hugs and soft kisses, and those...looks. Those 'I love you so much it hurts' looks. The kind her dad had always given her mom that were set off with a perfect smile and those gorgeous eyes. She knew it was a dream, but she also knew sometimes dreams came true. She had to look long enough and be patient enough and most importantly, be the kind of girl to attract that kind of love. If she could, then she knew in her heart of hearts her dreams could come true.

She and Jason did make love that night but within a week, the inevitable happened. He hemmed and hawed and told her it wasn't her, it was him and what not. She stopped him and told him she understood because she'd reached the same conclusion. They hugged and kissed goodbye and she managed not to cry until he left. The tears came yet she knew the right guy was out there somewhere. Her dad taught her that luck was were opportunity and preparation met. She was well prepared so with a little luck, opportunity would come her way. She had to watch and wait and remain prepared.

The summer passed and Ryleigh found herself in her dorm room with her mother waiting so say goodbye. "I'm gonna miss you so much, honey," she told her daughter. "I'm so proud of you."

She hugged her daughter then told her, "Listen, the first semester is fully paid for. I'm working on the second semester but that's not your problem, okay? I promise you I'll find a way to pay for your education. Your work is too important to be held up by holding part-time jobs, Ryleigh. You need to graduate and get out there and find a cure. Finances are my problem not yours, okay?"

Ryleigh said 'okay' but knew there was no way her mother could afford room and board at Yale on what she earned. She'd used the rest of her father's meager life insurance policy to fund her first semester, but there was no nest egg and no goose—okay, no gander—in her life laying golden eggs. She had no idea how she'd get through it but if she had to take out $100k in student loans, then that's what she'd do. The work came first no matter how much it cost. And as badly as her heart longed for true love and real romance, she would still have to keep her nose to the proverbial grindstone. Chivalry couldn't be dead is what she often told herself. It seemed to be on life support in this day and age, but as long as it still had a pulse then she had hope and hope sprang eternal.

Six weeks into the first semester Ryleigh realized that while her course load wasn't overwhelming, it was really all she could handle. In spite of the constant strain of worrying about money, there was just no way she could work even a part-time job and keep her grades up. So far, she'd aced every assignment and test in her classes which included organic chemistry, calculus, and introductory microbiology. And that didn't include the humanities requirement she was also taking.

As she left her dorm room, she'd counted her change carefully and knew she had just under five dollars which had to last her until Friday when her mom would deposit her next check. One of the best-kept secrets in New Haven was a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop called Lucianos. She thought it sounded more like a pizza place but it served the best coffee in town. Even better was the price. At a buck a cup, she could afford to go there the next three days if she was very careful.

There was a co-ed ordering a latte and a guy who looked like he might be homeless in front of her. The girl paid for her latte and the man ordered a cup of plain, black coffee. Ryleigh always looked for things she had in common with people rather than focusing on differences and she smiled when she noticed he was ordering the same thing she was. The only thing that bothered her was who was working behind the counter. It was her least favorite barista, a fellow Yalie, a senior named Lloyd, who was always hitting on her.

He was cute as hell and a nice enough guy, but the one time she'd talked to him he made it clear he was only interested in hooking up. When Ryleigh politely told him that wasn't her thing, he'd mocked for being some kind of prude. Since then, she did her best to avoid him, but she wanted a cup of coffee so badly that she didn't care.

The man in front of her placed his order and Lloyd told him it would be a $1.08 with tax. The man fished around in his pockets for his wallet or maybe for loose bills then said, "It appears I forgot my wallet. I'm really sorry." He turned around and apologized to Ryleigh just as Lloyd said, "We don't do charity here, dude. You need to get a job or maybe go do some panhandling for a few bucks." He smiled at Ryleigh thinking she'd find his comments humorous.

She pulled out her wallet and said, "I'll pay for it." She turned to the guy in the tattered jacket and said, "I apologize for him," nodding toward Lloyd. "He thinks he's God's gift but he's really just a first-rate pompous ass."

Lloyd glowered at her as he poured her a cup then asked for $2.16. Ryleigh gave him $2.25 and said, "Keep the change. You earned every penny of it."

"Why do you have to be such a bitch, Ryleigh?" he said as he handed her the two cups.

She handed one to the guy with no money and he thanked her sincerely. "That was very nice of you," he said. "It's not often you find someone with a big heart any more."

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "That comes from my late father who taught me to look beyond a person's outward appearance. You seem like a very nice man so it was my pleasure."

As she picked up her own cup, her purse swung around and hit the man's cup sending droplets flying into the air. Several of them spattered all over the front of her favorite sweater.

The man apologized profusely but Ryleigh said, "No, that was my fault. I have a lot on my mind with school and my mom and other stuff. I just wasn't paying attention. I'm the one who's sorry." That didn't mean she wasn't upset. She had clothes but not a lot of nice things and this sweater was one of them. It was a baby blue color and it was not only soft and pretty but warm, as well. It went perfectly with jeans and she was sure the stains wouldn't come out. "No use crying over spilt...coffee," she told herself.

The man thanked her again and left as she found a seat and opened her laptop and started working on her latest assignment in chemistry. She knew she wouldn't be getting a refill today so she nursed the cup for over an hour before leaving. She went back to the dorm, changed, and took her sweater to the nearest dry cleaner. The small Asian lady looked it and said, "No come out! No can fix!" She was shaking her head as she handed the cashmere garment back to Ryleigh.

The following day, she headed back to the coffee shop at almost exactly the same time. She was thrilled to see Barista Butthead wasn't working and hoped she might be able to get a free refill from the girl who was behind the counter.

After she sat down, a woman about her mother's age, who had been sitting at a corner table, picked up several things that included a bouquet of roses then came over to her table and asked, "Hi, is your name Ryleigh?"

She looked up, didn't recognize the woman, but noticed she was very nicely dressed. Her hair, nails, and makeup were perfect, her clothes were top of the line, and her jewelry was clearly expensive. "Yes, that's me," she said. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, no," the woman told her. "Actually, I have something for you."

Ryleigh was both confused and suspicious when the woman sat down a white box with a red ribbon on it next to her and set the flowers on top. There was a card attached with her name on it. "May I ask who this is from?" Ryleigh asked.

"I believe the card will answer your question to some degree, but the person who sent you these things wants to remain anonymous. Have a good day," the woman told her as she turned and walked out.

Intrigued, Ryleigh opened the card and found a handwritten poem:

"You were there for me in my time of need, no judgment, no harsh words, no hint of greed. The joy of giving is a seeming lost art, but you looked at me and opened your heart. There were many things I wanted to say, but needed to save them for a better day. These things I give expecting nothing in return, just to say thank you for helping and for shunning to spurn." It was signed: Grayson

Ryleigh read it a second time and then a third. It was then she remembered the box. She set the dozen, beautiful red roses aside after taking a deep whiff of their lovely fragrance then removed the ribbon. She opened the box and pulled back the white paper and saw a light blue, cashmere sweater. Her heart was beating fast as she saw another note which said, "I'm hoping this the right size. I'm very sorry about the coffee." It was signed, "G, a hopeless romantic."

She checked the size and it was indeed perfect. Ryleigh was lost in thought when the co-ed from behind the counter came around and said, "There was a man in here earlier today and he asked me to give you this. It's a gift card good for free coffee for a year."

Ryleigh didn't say anything as the girl set it next to her. She went back behind the counter and started wiping down the espresso machine when Ryleigh got up and walked over to her. "Could you describe the man who talked to you?" she said.

"Um, sure. He was about six feet tall, well built, really nice hair, great smile, and very nicely dressed. He's a little too old for my taste, but I thought maybe he was your dad or an uncle or something. Why? Don't you know him?"

"Did he have a dimple in his chin by any chance?" Ryleigh asked.

"Oh, definitely! That was the first thing I noticed. If I was into older guys, he'd be at the top of my list."

"When you say nicely dressed what exactly do you mean?" Ryleigh wanted to know.

"Well, let's see. Gray button-down shirt, dark blue sweaters, black pants, black shoes, and a really nice watch. Sorry, I always notice stuff like that."

"I see," Ryleigh said absent-mindedly. "So, um...okay. Well, thanks. I just wasn't sure who did this."

"So do you know him?" the girl asked.

"No, not really." She thought about their brief exchange from the previous day and she realized she'd been so annoyed by Lloyd and then by the coffee stains that she hadn't really looked at the man. But she had noticed the dimple. But that guy's hair was matted down, he hadn't shaved for several days, and he looked, well, like a bum. It just didn't make any sense to her. She looked back at the girl and said, "Well, maybe. I mean, I'm not sure, but I may have met him in here yesterday. Have you seen him in here before?"

"Nope. I'd definitely have remembered that guy."

Ryleigh thanked her and went back to her seat. Her mind was racing trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. It had to be the same guy, didn't it? She desperately wanted to know who he was when she remembered the card. Grayson. That wasn't much help as it could be either a first or a last name. For that matter, it could be a nickname.

What she did know was that the handful of dates she'd had so far had all been disasters. Without exception, every guy she'd met or been set up with had only one thing in mind and as horny as she was, she wasn't rolling over for some guy just because he was cute or because his daddy had money. She smiled wistfully as she thought to herself that if any one of those guys had written a poem like this—or even something totally cheesy—she'd have been theirs. Well, at least for that night. But hearing things like, "You're smoking hot, baby. Want to do it?" didn't do it. Not for her anyway. A single rose or any pretty flower would have opened her flower and gained access. A small but sincere gift would have been returned with a hot, steamy hour in bed with her. And here this unknown man had written her a beautiful poem, sent her a dozen roses, and bought her a very expensive cashmere sweater. Oh, and free coffee for a year. All because she spent a buck-ten to help him out.

Ryleigh ached as she thought about it. She ached...down there. She ached in her heart. She ached for her father. She ached...to be loved. And she had no idea who this man was. He was clearly too old to date, but she very much wanted to thank him and tell her how much these things meant to her. That's when she also realized she'd noticed a ring on his left hand. That thought deflated whatever wind had been in her romantic sails knowing she would never, ever date a married man. Regardless, she did want to thank him and she would keep an eye out for him in the future just in case they ever crossed paths again.

Six weeks later, Ryleigh hadn't forgotten about the mysterious man named Grayson, but she'd stopped looking for him. Whoever he might be, it was pretty clear he wasn't interested in meeting her. He was just a guy who wanted to do something nice for a young college girl who'd sloshed coffee on her clothes. There wasn't anything more to it than that.

She'd dated several other guys and even had a second date with one of them named Jeff. Like her, he was majoring in microbiology and he shared her passion for research although he was more inclined toward practicing medicine than doing full-time research. He was also cute and he'd brought her flowers on the second date. After watching a movie together, they'd gone back to his place where she unleashed months of pent-up sexual energy in a three-peat performance.

She very much wanted to see him again until he started taking about money and his family. They had a ton of it and everything he mentioned was connected to it. Ryleigh had nothing against money. Lord knows she needed more of it than she had, but money didn't motivate her. Love and compassion lit her fire in terms of her life's ambitions and in the bedroom. A guy she thought was a potential keeper turned out to be the kind of corporate, money-loving toady she couldn't stand. But she had to admit the sex had been amazing. Good thing because another month went by when she realized how long it had been again since she'd been with a guy.

And that was the day she saw him. At least she thought it was him. He was ahead of her in line and she felt her heart pound when she saw him. She stood right behind him and waited. When he went to pay she said nervously, "Mind if I get that for you?" as she plunked her card down on the counter.

The man turned around and smiled when he saw her. "Well, well. The sweater girl. Ryleigh, right?"

She smiled back and said, "Yes. I can't believe you remembered."

"I never forget a source of inspiration," he said as he picked up his cup of coffee. "Especially not one so fair as thee." He bowed slightly and smiled as he said it.

Ryleigh's heart was thumping inside her chest as she grabbed her own cup and said, "I never had the chance to thank you. You know, for the flowers and the sweater." She looked down as she stepped aside to let the next person move up then said, "The poem you wrote. It...it was the most romantic thing I've ever...." She looked down and saw his wedding ring and stopped in mid-sentence.

"Oh, my gosh. I am so sorry. You're married and I just said your poem was romantic and...."

He smiled and told her, "It's okay. I can't help myself. Like I said, I'm a hopeless romantic."

Ryleigh blanched when she thought this married man who was again dressed like some kind of vagrant was hitting on her. Her heart had stopped fluttering and was now pumping hot, angry blood through her veins.

"I'm sure your wife appreciates that very much," she said coldly the smile gone from her face.

"May we sit down?" he asked kindly.

"I don't spend time with married men," she told him. Her eyes had narrowed and her soft, full lips were drawn tight.

"I can't bring myself to take it off," he said with some sadness in his voice. "Please, just give me a minute to explain then I'll be off."

Confused, Ryleigh followed him to an open table. She was very aware of his helping her with her chair as he seated her. "Thank you," she said tersely. He sat across from her and she said, "Okay, I'm listening."

"I'm not asking for sympathy, Ryleigh. I just want to tell you my wife died two years ago." He held out his hand and looked briefly at the gold wedding band then said, "I've never taken it off." He looked up at her and said, "Not since the day she put it on my hand fifteen years ago."