Stacy and I began dating in the fall of my sophomore year. We met at the community center when she came over and asked me to dance. She was stop-and-stare beautiful, a tall and graceful woman who wore her blond hair in a short bob, had a passion for Pink Floyd, and an easy laugh that made you want to laugh too. We dated until fall of my junior year, had a year’s separation, then briefly got back together a few months before I graduated. I’d already made plans to move to California, and although we corresponded a few times after I left, we never saw each other again.
Stacy’s mother and stepfather also lived in Calvert County. Her mother was a leukemia survivor. Occasionally, my mother would run into one or the other of them. That was how I learned Stacy’s mother eventually died after a cancer relapse, Stacy had married and had a child, and, last I heard (which was years ago), lived somewhere in the Baltimore area. Her child was born after her mother’s death, and I recall thinking it was a shame her mom wouldn’t get a chance to see her grandkid.
One spring Saturday in 1985, Stacy and I drove to Ocean City, which was about 45 minutes from Salisbury, where we attended college. Most of the houses and businesses are closed and the boardwalk is empty. It’s a fine, warm day; we spread a blanket on the beach and enjoy the sun. Our arms touch. The ocean breeze tickles my skin, raising goose bumps. The forlorn and melancholy cry of gulls echoes over the sussuration of the waves. I wiggle, shifting the sand beneath me, getting more comfortable. I smell salt water.
Spring passes into summer, summer into fall, and fall into winter. Make your memories now, my friends….
Nobody on the road
Nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer’s out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets
The sun goes down alone
Boys of Summer, by Don Henley
What memories does this song make you think of?
