Jan’s Love is All I Ever Needed
Estimated reading time: 10 minutes, 26 seconds
Afternoon Anxiety
The balance of the late afternoon I spent alone in my unheated apartment. Each time I took a breath, it was so cold I could see smoke. The only phone number I had was Jan’s home number, so I could not do anything until tonight. But this evening, I had to staff the youth center until 9. Could I wait that long to call?
When I do call, what do I say? Do you have a boyfriend? I can’t ask that on the phone.
I have always had a good imagination. Was this weekend a dream? But I was in Inwood at her party! Where was I for the last thirty-two hours if I dreamed everything else? Did I ride the subway all night? How did I get her name and number?
I left my abode and wandered down Grand Street, and I stopped at the deli by the subway for an early dinner. When I exited, I was still confused and apprehensive! Was I living in the Twilight Zone?
Standing in front, unsure which way to go. I heard someone call my name. It was Vanessa returning from her interview. I asked how it went, and she said she thought she did OK.
She looked at me and said, “You look like you have seen a ghost.”
I tried to explain what had happened since she talked in the morning.
About halfway through the explanation, Vanessa said, “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, and they are felt with the heart. You should follow your heart and not listen to your head.”
As she walked away, she turned and said, “that advice is from The Little Prince!”
I smiled not only at Vanessa but also at Jan, even though she was miles away.
Pay Phone Call to Jan
The youth center was quieter tonight than usual. However, I could not focus on the kids or my work as I was growing impatient as I waited until I could call Jan. I felt it was too early to call her at six, and I kept counting the time until it was at least seven so I could call her.
At seven, there was a slight problem with a few kids getting into a minor brawl, and I had to assist in getting that resolved.
At ten minutes past seven, I walked over to the payphone with a pocket full of quarters. I dialed, and it seemed like it was ringing forever after I deposited the coins. Would Jan have given me the wrong number?
“Hello,” her sweet voice echoed in my ears.
“Hi, it’s Richard,” I said, no longer concerned about the questions in my head, and I was now fully following my heart.
We chatted for a minute before realizing I was about to run out of time. Even though I had more quarters, I wanted to ask the question in the center of my heart.
My voice was shaky, but I decided to say what I knew I needed to ask her.
“I do not get off of work until 9. I said as if I was in a race to finish the sentence. I want to come to see you unless that is too late for you.”
I was so focused on asking the question; I did not hear her starting to speak.
“That would be lovely,’ Jan said.
We chatted until the time ran out. I yelled into the receiver, “I love you,” as the operator disconnected the line.
I arranged for other staff to close up that night to leave at 9. I have never been one to watch the clock or count down the hours left in the shift. But that night, I did.
At 9, I raced up the stairs with my bag of postcards to address. Usually, I would have finished them by now. But Jan dominated every moment of my day, and I had left them to the end, and now there was no time left.
I had decided to go east on Maujer to Bushwick and make a quick left to the subway, and I knew it would be less crowded. It worked, and I raced into the subway, dropped a token, and boarded the train. The connection to the A was there when I transferred.
I hummed and whispered a new stanza with apologies to Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald.
You must take the “A” train
Ella FITZGERALD
To go to see Jan, way up in Inwood
If you miss the “A” train
You’ll find you missed the quickest way to Jan
This time, I rode in the train’s last car to minimize the distance I needed to travel from the station to the doorway to her heart.
I was panting like a puppy dog when I knocked on her door. When she opened the door, I knew that what I felt in my heart was not only accurate but the most beautiful feeling I would ever know. I kissed her as if I had been away from her not for thirteen hours but thirteen weeks.
Love never dies; it only grows stronger!
This is a continuation of the post When Richard Met Jan.
Jan Clears the Deck provides her perspective.
Authors Note: In 1973, East Williamsburg had not been named. It was almost three years later that I helped call the neighborhood.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
