to her, he was that man. With the enthusiastic input he had received from his wife, associates, and friends, there was only one person left from whom to request input. Getting that person’s advice was the key to every decision he had made since his high school years.
The man stood and strolled toward his den for the private conversation with his key advisor. Memories of his loyal ally circled his thoughts. He passed the fireplace mantle, picked up one of the two framed wedding pictures, and looked at his wife. He gazed at the photograph. They had been young when they married. Their smiling faces revealed their ardent love and hard-earned happiness. He returned the picture to its location, wondering if other men were as lucky as he was. It wasn’t his wife’s beauty that made him feel like the luckiest man on earth. It was the knowledge that she wouldn’t leave him for another man. Other men had tried to capture her love. A few even proposed. Yet she chose him.
In the second wedding photograph, his wife had a cheerful contented expression, as did he. Their relationship hadn’t been shaped singularly by the two of them but by the people within both North and South Hillside, fashioning who they are today. Their devoted relationship endured through sorrow, tension, and humorous moments—and originated before it began.
1
First Day of Summer
June 1992
Before the internet became so accessible, before Facebook made private information public, before downloading apps to smartphones, or cyberbullying became a well-known word, fifteen-year-old Scott Furman, on his first day of summer vacation, crossed Seventh Street.
Ten minutes had passed since he finished shooting hoops with his best friend, Derek. So-called best friend, Scott told himself as he angrily shoved his hands into his pockets. He could no longer ignore the truth. Reality slapped him in the face. All the evidence proved that Shelley liked Derek. Suppressing his thoughts for the moment, he reached the opposite side of the street. He had an urge to sprint. It was the one strenuous activity that relaxed his mind and put his thoughts into perspective.
He stood on the corner of Seventh Street and Maple Avenue, the perfect place for his private sprint. It was located on the west side of town, running parallel to the railroad tracks where a small grove of trees aligned the street. In fact, once on Seventh Street, his entire town of South Hillside was blocked from view.
The strong morning wind whipped his hair around, throwing it into his face. He pushed it aside impatiently and knelt as if he was in the two-hundred-yard dash. On the count of three, he leaped forward, pouring all his strength and stamina into his sprint. As a well-trained athlete, his body moved with precision and speed while his thoughts thrust forth spontaneously.
He had been a fool. He hated playing the fool. For the past five months, Shelley had occupied his mind. Derek had stolen her attention with his charisma and charm. When Shelley had been mentioned this morning, it was Derek’s confident attitude, showing he always succeeds, that had been the eye opener. No longer ignorant of the truth, which had been in plain view for years, Scott knew Derek had taken every girl of his interest since sixth grade.
Running at top speed, the sprint became a race against himself. A race to eliminate his thoughts of Shelley. A race of acceptance. A race to move forward to the next stage.
Seven blocks later, Scott sprinted past his prearranged finish line at Olive Avenue. Like a champion, he threw his arms into the air. He had beat his own thoughts. He accepted the outcome and was ready to move forward. He had won the race.
Placing his hands on his waist, Scott walked in circles for several minutes, catching his breath. Drops of sweat rolled down his forehead. He wiped the sweat and frowned. Yes, he won the race, but his life remained monotonous. This summer would be identical to last summer and the past four summers: football at ten o’clock in the morning and basketball at two o’clock in the afternoon with his friends. Well, maybe not friends but guys he hung out with and tolerated.
Irritation coursed through him. Losing girls to Derek left his brain calculating ways on how he could get a girlfriend, even with his friend around. He scowled. There was no way—unless he met a girl and never introduced her to Derek until she’d gotten to know him first. Scott rubbed his chin and grinned at his idealistic dream. He rarely left his town, and his chances of controlling his own destiny when it came to a girl seemed nearly impossible.
Scott turned and studied each direction, determined to add some variation into his mundane life. Cornfields were directly north and south, and east led back home. He pivoted, facing west, looking over the 120 yards of open field. Two years ago, Derek had mentioned there was a park above the five-foot sloped embankment beyond the meadow. Determined for a change, Scott climbed over the eight-foot chain-link fence, crossed the two-foot mounded railroad tracks, and strolled through the lower field of tall uncultivated grass toward the private park in the wealthy town of North Hillside.
As the strong morning wind pushed him onward, Scott reached the steep embankment just before the park, the final barrier, an apparent wall, separating the two towns, keeping the lower-middle class in their distinct station. He shook off the uncomfortable feeling the barrier permeated in his mind and thought how odd it was he had lived in South Hillside all his life and had never ventured into North Hillside. Feeling as if he was breaking some unwritten rule, he straddled the last obstacle, ascended to the top, and entered the park.
Scott turned to examine his town, which was hidden by the wall of trees, and knew instantly why he experienced a nonexistence sensation. The affluent people of North Hillside had done a magnificent job of blocking South Hillside from existence.
Ignoring that thought, he moved into the park and counted nine rosebushes aligning the embankment. The bushes were professionally pruned. After spending the past two years reading gardening books, he could recognize the proper method for clipping branches.
Scott quickly straightened his body, scanned the area, and worried someone might be watching him. Observing no one, he sighed with relief. Suddenly feeling liberated, he grinned. In his small town, he rarely had a private moment to himself to enjoy the art of lawn maintenance.
Stepping further into the park, Scott studied several well-pruned maple and oak trees. At the base of each tree, a circular flowerbed added an array of color to the greenery of the park. He moved his attention to the diagonally cut well-maintained lawn. Unlike the two parks in his town, this park had no unsightly grass growing along the sidewalks, the restrooms, or the parking lot. The surrounding leafy woods hid the massive houses of North Hillside which enhanced the park’s privacy. At the same time, the trees buffeted the strong morning wind, turning it into a gentle breeze. Enjoying his solitude, Scott sighed loudly, wondering why this beautiful park was empty. Didn’t the people of North Hillside appreciate it?
Scott strolled to the basketball court, marveling that the hoops had their nets. The concrete court had no cracks or weeds growing between the slabs. As he walked onto the basketball court, he recalled his morning game with Derek.
Deciding this was the perfect time for a game of shadow ball, Scott dribbled an imaginary ball. From the three-point range, he jumped and watched his shadowed form complete a shot. Swish, the ball glided easily through the net. Three to zero, he was already in the lead. He continued his offensive drills, layups, and three-pointers, and managed to stay three points ahead of Derek. In his imaginary game, beating his longtime superbly athletic friend was never a problem.
After playing a five-minute game, Scott pivoted 180 degrees, faced the drinking fountain, and stopped. About seventy feet in front of him, a girl clasped the arm of a white metal bench behind the swings. He regarded this girl, wondering how he had missed her presence earlier. She had studied his every move since
