3 comments/ 13913 views/ 0 favorites Andrea & I By: espeteroh Every day I take the red line subway in-town from Porter Square in Cambridge. Every day I see about the same people from the train get on the Red Line and every evening I usually see a number of the same people on their way back to Porter Square. I will watch a pretty woman get on the train but as a rule I am reading a book and don't notice who gets on. Today was no different from any other day or so it seemed, as least, until I got on the subway going to Porter Square and there catch the train home. I was sat down on the subway train. I noticed I was sitting next to a very pretty woman I had seen on the platform where I got on. I thought it best to just read my book as usual and keep my mind off other things. My mind is not known for obeying me and I could not help looking at this woman sitting next to me. I had noticed she seemed to be reading my book with me. "It's a pretty good book," I said to her. "Excuse me?" she said inquiringly. "This book, it's really pretty good. It's on the New York Times best seller list." I said. "I'm sorry. I guess it doesn't make any difference at all and it was rude of me to be so forward. I'm really sorry." "Don't be so apologetic! I was reading your book, I just missed what you said to me." she replied. "Bad day?" I inquired. I looked down and saw her wedding ring. I silently shrugged to myself. "If it were a bad day that would be an improvement!" I expected her to continue but she paused reflectively for a few moments. "You don't need to hear this from me. I'm angry, yes, but that doesn't mean I have to take it out on you. I'm sure you would rather read your book anyway," she said in a very matter of fact way. "That's okay," I replied, "I don't mind listening to you at all. As I have been this forward so far I may as well finish it off by telling you how I find it a pleasure to listen to a lady as pretty as you." She blushed noticeably and then said, "Thank you. I wish my fucking husband would tell me that once in a while." She paused a moment. "I'm sorry. My language gets really bad when I'm angry. It's just that I'm going home while he's going to a formal affair in New York for his company. He knew about it a long time before he left, I know he did, but he says he didn't. I called one of the other wives who isn't going and she told me there really is a formal affair and that spouses were invited. Does that jerk husband of mine invite me? No!! He's probably got a girlfriend down there he wants to see. It certainly wouldn't be the first." "So why do you stay with him? Why don't you divorce him?" I asked. "I still love him. I know, I know, I'm playing the fool but I just can't seem to leave him," she said with a bit of a plaintive sigh in her voice. I heard the crackling voice of the conductor announce Porter Square over the subway car speakers. I wanted to say something but I choked on my words. "Well, this is my stop," she said. "Oh! It's mine too," I was happy to relate. I hoped she'd be on the commuter train as well. We got off the train together and went up the escalators. After passing through the turnstiles it was obvious we were going in different directions. We paused and looked at each other waiting for one of us to say something. "My name is Andrea," she said. "I live a short distance from here." "My name is David and I live quite a distance from here," I said and smiled broadly. We looked at each other and laughed. "Are you married?" She queried. "Um yeah, I am, unfortunately," I lied. It seemed it might be better or easier for her if she thought I were married too. "You don't wear a wedding band," she said quickly. "It's my denial of the marriage. It's not a happy scene." "I see," she said. "I would invite you to my house but you've got to get home. "My wife isn't home now. She told me this morning she'd be getting home late from the hospital but she didn't say how late. A simple phone call can take care of that, the answering machine you know." "Your wife is a doctor?" Andrea asked. "Yes," I replied pausing to collect my thoughts on where to take this story. I wondered why I had felt it necessary to concoct this story in the first place. It immediately occurred to me that it gave the appearance of my being "safe" as opposed to someone who was single. I questioned my logic. "She's a gastroenterologist, a surgeon," I continued finally, "You know, a stomach doctor?" Andrea laughed at my last statement and appeared to believe the story. "Won't she mind your staying out late?" "If she knew I were with another woman you can be certain she would mind." "So what will you tell her?" "Simple, that I am going out with some clients from out of town. That I might be late et cetera." I thought of how deceitful this sounded and how it might put me in a bad light. Thankfully Andrea let the statement pass without further comment. I made the phone call while we were still at Porter Square on the pretense that I'd feel quite safe for the next 4 or 5 hours at least. I walked with Andrea down Mass. Ave. to a small side street where her apartment was. I happened to look at the street sign, Chauncy Street and thought how very proper it sounded. Her house was the third one down on the right. It was a wooden frame house that had once been a single family residence and recently had been converted to a multi-family house like the others that were on either side it. We went up the wooden steps and into the house. She led me to the left into the living room and asked me to sit which I did. "Would you like something to drink?" she offered. "Sure, I'd love a scotch and soda, no ice." "Good drink! I think I'll join you in the same." I was looking Andrea over really well for the first time. She was even more beautiful than I had first noticed on the Red Line. Her auburn hair was just shoulder length and was set off by her emerald green eyes and dark skin. She stood about five feet nine inches tall. I had always preferred taller than average women. I tried to get a sense of her figure but it was hidden by a loose fitting blouse. Still, she is a woman who would delight the eyes of any man. Her beauty extended from the obvious external to a lively and warm personality. "I don't have much to offer you in the way of dinner. I could make us some roast beef sandwiches if you don't mind." "No, I don't mind at all. That sounds just fine to me." "Good!" she said and disappeared into the kitchen. In just a short time Andrea reappeared carrying a tray-table that had our dinner upon it. She had really done a good job as I could see the sandwiches were on bulky rolls with lettuce and tomato on them, a pickle on the side and even some bottled water for us to enjoy. "Amazing!" I said, "You did all this so quickly!" "Really, it was nothing. Most of it was already prepared anyway and I had only to put it on the tray. It was nothing." "Well, nothing to you is wonderful to me." I said. Andrea was visibly pleased with my compliments. That made me happy as well. It made me feel good. I raised my drink to Andrea and said, "To you, a beautiful and endearing hostess." "Thank you. You are too kind." Andrea smiled and said no more. We ate in silence. Andrea tried to keep her eyes averted but she caught me looking upon her. We finished our meal rather quickly. "Why do you look at me so much?" Andrea asked quite unexpectedly. "There are so many reasons why." I was hoping she'd ask me for some. She did. "Well, tell me a couple then." "Well, as I've said you are really pretty. I love being with a pretty woman. You are also very kind. I can tell that just by the way you are. You took me, a total stranger, to your apartment with no apprehension at all. The only thing I can figure for your trust of me is that you are so young and trusting and I'm just old enough to look safe. But that's the part that gets me. Why should someone your age want anything to do with someone my age?" "I'm 24 and I think I'm old enough to decided who I want to be with. As to your age, well, just because you're 30 something really means nothing to me." "Oh don't I wish I were 30 something. I'm more like 40 something." "Well, you certainly don't look it or act it. Christ, my husband is 28 and you'd think he were 68 by the way he acts. You, on the other hand, act a lot closer to what I really like, young!" "Phew! This is beginning to sound like a mutual admiration society." "It is, isn't it." Andrea said and looked at me directly in my eyes. I was looking at two green eyes that I felt were looking down into my heart and soul and into my mind and could see all my thoughts. There was something else about the way she was looking at me. It felt warm and comforting. With that I leaned toward Andrea and kissed her lightly on her cheek. I was afraid of her rebuff. None came. I kissed her again only this time I put my arms around her and pulled us together. The kiss was very long and very deep and when we finally stopped I could feel all the carnal desires I have rising to the surface. "Should we be doing this?" Andrea asked. "I think you know the answer to that," I replied. "I think the better question is, is this something we can do without regret?" "I think it is," she responded quickly. "So do I." I said and continued, "But I cannot be a one night stand. That is something that goes against my very being. What I'm saying is . . . ." "You want me to be your mistress." Andrea responded. "I'd be delighted to be your mistress. You know how to make me feel good and oh lord it's been so long since I've felt really good." "No," I replied, "I don't want you to be my mistress." "What then?" Andrea asked impatiently, "What would you have me as?" "I'd much prefer us to be lovers." I replied Andrea smiled and said, "I like that better too. David, you certainly know how to make a woman feel good about herself." I was struck by how quickly things were moving, not that I was against such a thing, however any time this had happened before it was with a woman who had none of the class and poise Andrea possessed. I could not let this pass without comment. "I don't know how to put this," I said fumbling for just the right words to say to her. "What's that?" Andrea asked with a devilish grin on her face. "Well, you've only known me," I looked at my watch, "well, I mean," I hated myself when I stumbled over my words, "this is all happening so quickly." "Oh," Andrea said looking at me in a puzzled way. "I have offended you? If I have I'm sorry. I am absolutely never this forward and I guess I would not be now if I were not so angry with my husband!" Andrea said this forcefully. "So you are doing this just to get back at him?" I asked feeling a bit used. "Let me tell you one thing about me," Andrea said in a stern voice. I felt I was about to be scolded. I was right in a way, "I almost never do anything I wouldn't do under any other circumstance. This, of course, is a departure from that and I'm glad. I promise you that he will pay in spades but this is entirely something else. I am doing this because I really liked you from the moment you first spoke to me on the subway and because I really want to be with you. Does that suit you?" I feared I had really put Andrea off and that the feelings of the moment were now irrevocably lost. "I'm sorry," I said looking down at the floor like a school boy, "that was very rude and thoughtless of me." "No, I am happy that you said it now," Andrea said surprising me once again. "You have reaffirmed in me that I am correct about you. I think many men, if not most, would have just taken advantage of the situation without ever saying what you just said. You took a real chance there," Andrea said and paused. I feared the ax was about to fall but her face softened. "You've won my complete respect for saying that. Now, do you want to stay down here all evening discussing philosophy or do you think there's something we might both enjoy a lot more?" Andrea's impish grin had returned and I smiled back at her. We both realized nothing further needed to be said. Andrea took my hand and led me up the stairs and into her bedroom. I noticed immediately how neat everything looked. I thought to myself that this is the touch of a woman who cares and makes the time to take care of the simple things that make a difference. The bed was a king size and looked delightfully comfortable. I was feeling a bit tired from the day so I leapt upon the bed and sank into it. Andrea laughed at me, then smile, then began to undress. She took her skirt off first. That took a whole 5 seconds. Next she took off her blouse. It was this blouse that had so well hidden her charms so well. Her figure was wonderful. I felt she was not interested in men gawking at her as I felt certain they would. I also noticed her legs. They were long and athletic looking. I started to undress myself. She pushed the shirt from my shoulders and off me entirely. My shirt had no sooner fallen upon the bed when Andrea was kissing me on my chest telling me how much she loved a man with a hairy chest. I volunteered to bring it around frequently. She laughed. "Okay, what's wrong?" she asked. "Was it something I said?" "Actually it was something you said and that's good. Andrea, I want to make love to you more than you can believe. But when we are done making love I want to feel good about it. You know what I mean? I don't want to feel guilty." "I agree and I know I will feel marvelous." "How do you know that?" "Simple. You care about me, you like me and I think given time you might even love me. These are the same feelings I have for you too. They have to be. Otherwise, it would be just a fuck and I don't want just a fuck. I want to be made love to." With that I took Andrea into my arms, looked directly into her eyes and then gave her a long deep warm kiss. It was a kiss with so much love in it there was no way for her to miss it and she didn't. Her return kiss was equal to mine and as full of desire as I have ever felt from any woman. We kissed for what seemed like hours and when we broke for a minute neither of us could say a word. I gave Andrea one more short but loving kiss. "Mmmmmm delicious!" she said. "And we're just getting started too!" I exclaimed. We made love continuously for the next several hours. I had not felt this alive in a very long time however Andrea seemed to have the ability to draw me out and bring out the very best in me. I thought possibly I had the same effect upon her as she responded in kind to my touch. We lost ourselves in each other and were like two animals in heat. Each time we slowed down as to catch our breath something inside each of use ignited us once again into a passion filled frenzy of love. Each time we desperately tried to outdo the last and each time we believed we succeeded. Finally, out of pure exhaustion we fell to each other's side but with our arms still wrapped tightly about each other as if letting go would mean it would be ended and neither of us was ready to admit that though we also knew we had well satisfied our carnal desires but we had also found a spark of love between us which we grew. Now that the spark seemed to have become a fire we wanted to assure nothing would put it out and so we held on tightly to each other as if all depended on that. We lay in each other's arms for a very long time. We were now content to hold each other and enjoy our closeness. From time to time one of us would kiss the other and each time a little explosion went off in our bodies and our minds. We were happy and we were very contented. Any thoughts of guilt were absent from our minds, a love had spawned and neither of us needed to say a word of this, we seemed to instinctively know it existed between us. Our bodies and minds were drained so this quiet time seemed ever so much in order. Every now and then to lean over and kiss her cheek. Each time she'd smile and rub my thigh with her hand briefly. A good half hour must have passed before either of us said a word. I was the one who broke the silence. "Andrea, my love," I said softly, "I must be going or there'll be no excuse my wife will accept." "Yes," she said and paused, "I'd forgotten that you're married." "As are you," I added. "I had actually forgotten that you know but," she paused, "but I wish we weren't. This has been so good I feel greedy. I want it all the time." "Well, we agreed that this would not be a one night stand. You are going to see me again aren't you?" "Of course I am but you know what I mean." Andrea replied looking for reassurance. "Yes, I do know what you mean but I love my wife and I think you love your husband." I thought about that for a second and then asked, "Do you understand what I'm saying?" "I know, I do know," she responded, "but this relationship of ours feels so good. I do even feel guilty like I think I should. I always want more than I can have," she said with a sigh. "There is one difference though," she continued, "I think my husband is screwing around on me and you and your wife are happy with each other." "We are. It's a good thing you didn't say faithful because as of tonight I'm screwing around on her which make me no better than your husband. What does that say for me?" "Tough question beside the obvious answer," Andrea said, "we're having an affair huh?" "Yeah, there's just no other way to think of it and still be honest," I said. "Well, I don't want to be the one who breaks up your marriage." "I don't want that either. So do you think we should forget about continuing?" "No!" Andrea said emphatically, "I just want to know that all will be well." I took Andrea's head in my hands and while looking into her eyes said, "That's the same thing I want too and I will work extra hard to keep things that way. I really think this is something we are going to have to play out and be damn careful in doing so." Andrea paused briefly and said something most curious and yet wonderfully complimentary, "David, you could make an old woman feel young, you know?" I didn't know what to say to that and stammered out with an, "Ahhhhh, yeah." We kissed good-night again, a long and loving kiss. Andrea had led me to the front door, stopped, and kissed me one more time. I knew I loved her already and it felt as if she already loved me too. I left, slowly walking over the porch and down the steps to the street. First one week then a second passed. Andrea and I had no problem finding time talking on the phone. We did have an enormous problem in finding a spot available in our schedules that was good for both of us to get together. A third week passed and then a fourth. Andrea was becoming as anxious as was I. It was good to know that it wasn't just me. My hope of being with her again was beginning to dissolve. It was a Wednesday. I was at a computer trade show in Boston. I had arrived early to avoid the crowds I was sure were going to be there by noon. In wandering around I bumped into Andrea. "What brings you here?" I asked. I hadn't mentioned the show to her so I knew it wasn't me. "I enjoy these sort of things too you know," she retorted. The pause which followed was deafening. Andrea was first to break it by suggesting we go right then back to her apartment. I don't think I've ever answered yes to a question in my life quite so quickly. I thought we were going to break into a run as we headed back. Once in her apartment we both left a trail of clothes to the bedroom. For the next two hours we made such passionate love one would have thought we'd never done it before. Finally we collapsed in each others arms and just lay there. Finally Andrea said, "I want to give you a bubble bath." "What?" I replied in a loud question. Andrea & I "A bubble bath, have you ever had one?" "No I but just for you I'll start a new trend." I responded smiling. "I insist that you allow me to have my way," she ran her hand down my back and caressed me. I shivered. She smiled with great pleasure at this, pulled me out of the bed by the hand and led me into her bathroom. Soon the tub was full and the bubble solution applied. I was totally within her power, she knew it and she relished it. Andrea brought out an enormous sponge. It looked like the same sponge I washed my car with. I told her this and she laughed. She dipped the sponge into the water and then rubbed my chest, my stomach and finally my legs. The sponge was far softer than my car sponge and felt so good I was becoming quite aroused after I had thought I was far too drained to feel much of anything for quite a while. Again we made love more passionately than we had ever before. We were like a couple who were going to be apart for sometime and were feverishly pushing their passion to heights they'd never visited before. When I said good night to Andrea that night she gave me a particular long and deeply loving kiss. "Good night Andrea. I'll see you later in the week. I'll miss you." I said as I very reluctantly left. "Good-bye," was all she said. I looked behind me several times as I walked away. Andrea looked stunningly beautiful in her wispy white nightgown. I turned the corner and returned home. I was lost in my thoughts of her. When Friday came I decided I needed to see Andrea that afternoon. As soon as I could, which was 4:30, I left work and took the Red Line down to Porter Square. I ran up the escalated and then proceeded down Mass. Ave. to Chauncy street and number 10 where she lived. Just as I was to climb the steps to her apartment house I noticed that they were made of concrete and not the wood I remembered. Undaunted I climbed them and went to open the door, locked. I rang the bell for apartment #2. I rang it again and shortly there appeared a woman before me who looked to be in her 70s. "Oh, I'm sorry, I must have rung the wrong doorbell, I was trying to get someone else." "Who?" she asked. "Who." I replied quizzically. "Yes who? I've lived here for 40 years and know everyone here." "Her name is Andrea," it was at that point I realized I did not know her last name. "Well, there's no Andrea living here." I was astonished by her words. "Well, maybe you know her by a different name, I don't know." I was grasping. "Is she about your age?" "Why yes, she is" "Then I can guarantee you she doesn't live here. There is no one under the age of 65 living here." "Well, this is 10 Chauncy Street isn't it?" I asked. "Chauncy Street? No, this is Creighton Street. Can't you read? Chauncy Street is up by Harvard." She said with her deep Boston accent. I was dumbfounded. I was lost. I could only mumble the words, "I'm sorry to have bothered you." I think I heard her reply, "Yeah, sure you are." I walked slowly down the street and noticed that sign did indeed say Creighton Street. I could not understand how I could have been so mistaken. I slowly walked down Mass. Ave. towards Harvard Square. It wasn't long before I found myself at the corner of Chauncy Street much to my surprise. I paused considering the advisability of going down the street but my own curiosity took over and down it I went. I found myself standing in front of the house I had known and there upon the side of the house was the number 10. Almost as if I were being pulled by an unseen force I walked up the steps and pushed the bell. I only had to wait a few seconds when a young woman who amazingly resembled Andrea opened the door. I stood there speechless for a few moments. Finally the woman asked, "What is it that you want?" Her words pulled me from my stupor and I responded, "I am looking for a friend of mine named . . ." I was unable to finished before she said, "I'm Andrea. Now, what may I do for you?" I was completely stunned hearing her call herself Andrea. Still, she was not my Andrea. That I knew for sure. I couldn't speak again for several moments so she asked, "Are you all right." "Yes. No. I don't know. I'm very confused. I'm looking for a woman named," I paused before saying the name, "well, that doesn't matter it's just that you look a lot like her but the woman I am looking for is not you." "Yes, and you are doing a pretty good job of confusing me as well," she said somewhat annoyed at me. I could easily understand her feeling that and I tried to quickly recover myself before she closed the door on me without answering some of the questions I felt I needed to ask. I knew I had lots of questions however they were slow in coming to me. I stood there looking at the ground. "Well, why don't you go home and think this over and maybe you'll be able to figure it out." She began to close the door as she said that. "No! Wait a minute please," I begged her. I had no idea what I was going to say next but she hesitated and pulled the door all the way open once again. "Yes?" She asked waiting for my next question. I was still having trouble thinking of one. "This is 10 Chauncy Street?" I asked stalling for time. "Yes, you can see it is," she said growing ever more impatient with me. "Well, don't you see, that's it!" I said as if I had discovered the obvious answer. "What are you talking about?" she asked me once again showing her annoyance with me. "I know for a fact that Andrea lived at 10 Chauncy Street." "Well, this is 10 Chauncy Street and you've already stated that this is not where you had known her so I don't understand." "I went to the location I had last seen her, which is now 10 Creighton Street. The woman I knew lived at 10 Chauncy Street, or so I thought, but now it's 10 Creighton Street. Please, if it weren't that you look so much like Andrea I wouldn't be trying so desperately to figure this whole thing out. I could see the expression on her face had changed dramatically although I did not know why. "I'm sorry," I said finally giving into the idea of being defeated, "I know I sound crazy and I really don't want to scare you so maybe I had best go as you suggested. Thank you for your time." I said that and quickly turned to leave. "No, wait a minute," she said to me surprising me. "Yes?" I asked hoping for a miracle. "Oh, you must mean grammy Andrea. I was named after her." "Grammy Andrea? I don't understand." "She was my grandmother, of course. I don't understand how you could possibly have known her though. I loved her dearly. We were very close. But she died a few weeks ago. I miss her a lot. It's funny." Then she suddenly stopped speaking and gazed off as if she were remembering something. "What's funny," I asked. "Well, when she was dying, the day she died actually, she took my hand and told me that I should not worry. She told me that the man I would marry is just around the corner. Before I could ask her what she meant by that she slipped into unconsciousness and died so I don't know." "Well, I'll tell you. This all sounds a bit too crazy for me." I said regaining my senses. "I think I know what you mean. But what do you mean?" she asked but before I could answer she said, "Oh I'm sorry, please, come in and sit down." I walked through the door and followed her left into the living room. We sat facing each other. "Let me show you something," Andrea said before I could continue. She went to a desk in the room, opened a draw and pulled out what appeared to be a picture. She handed me the picture. "This is a picture of you," I said. "It does look like me doesn't it?" she asked. "Of course it does," I said looking at the picture. "Well it's not. That is a picture of Grammy but everyone says how we look exactly alike. But I think there are a lot of differences." "I would agree with you but they aren't that noticeable," I said. I looked at the picture again and then turned it over as people often do. There in beautiful handwriting was written "Andrea Creighton 1910." "Your last name is Creighton?" I asked. "Yes, why?" she asked. "If I told you I think you'd surely think me a crazy man." "Try me. I think you'll find me to be pretty open minded." I believed her and told her the story of how Andrea and I met and how we became lovers and how her house had been on Creighton Street. "What date did you first meet her?" she asked. I thought her question a bit odd. I told her and it was then I saw her sink into her chair. "That is the day Grammy died," she said slowly in a hollow voice. "So you believe me?" I asked. "I don't know. I don't disbelieve you but you've got to admit it's a hard story to believe." "Yeah, that's what I was afraid of. I was afraid you would think me crazy." "No, I don't think you're crazy but I would like to hear some more details of what you knew of Grammy," she paused and then said, "or what you think you knew about her." I felt she was challenging me however I quickly decided that was a good thing. So I told her everything I knew. It was 9:30 when I finished which means I must have talked for at least 3 hours. "Well, that's it," I said. "I want to talk to you some more about this but it's getting late. Can you come back tomorrow? It's Saturday but I don't have anything planned." She said. "Certainly. What time is good?" I asked. "How about 10." "I'll be here." With that I got up and made my way to the door. Andrea followed. "I'm going to call my mother tonight and ask her about some of these things. I need some, some reassurance that you are not some sort of con artist or something." "That's fair," I said. That evening I ran the day's events over and over again in my head but couldn't make any more sense of them. I thought I'd never get to sleep that night. I was very anxious to see Andrea again. I fell asleep and awoke the next morning at 7:30. I went through my morning rituals and timed my departure to arrive at Andrea's house just prior to 10. At 9:55 I was in front of her house and decided that a mere 5 minutes would make no difference so I went on up and rang the bell. Andrea answered and ushered me into the living room. That was the first time I noticed how much it looked like another living room I'd been in. "I couldn't help but notice how much this living room reminds me of the living room your Grandmother Andrea had. It's almost as if it were identical." I said. I still found it odd referring to her grandmother as the woman I had been with and yet what other explanation could there have been. "If you assume it was Grammy which I'm not. Grammy liked this room very much. It was her favorite. Well, except for possibly one other room and that's a family secret, if you know what I mean. Grammy was a liberated woman long before the phrase was coined. I have a few questions for you. I just want to be sure you are genuine." I wasn't quite certain what she meant by that however I was not about to argue with her either. "This woman you met, how old was she and what did she look like?" "Well, she said she was 24 I think and she looked like you as I have said before ." In fact, I would say you were she except for some minor differences." "Oh? And what might they be." "Well your hair is shorter and your, ummmmm, errrr.." I was stumbling to say what I needed. "Go ahead, tell me." "I don't want to offend you," I responded. "Don't worry, I'm not easily offended and I truly doubt you will," she said strongly. I took in a deep breath and they said quickly, "Well, your breasts are smaller." I am certain I blushed many colors. I beat myself up a bit over why I felt I had to mention that. Andrea smiled and settled back into her chair. "That was like Grammy. She was a rather large woman in that respect. So, what else." I was pleasantly surprised at how non-plussed she had responded to my statement. "Well, I guess if I can say that then I can say this. She and I were having an affair." "Oh, you are married then?" she queried. "No, but she was and she did think I was. Although, to be honest, I sometimes thought she knew otherwise." I looked up and noticed Andrea was almost pale. "What is wrong? Are you sick?" "No, I'll be fine. You know, I never asked you your first name. I don't even know your last name." "Well, it's....." "Stop! Don't say it." "Why not?" "Please, just bear with me. I am going to say a name and you tell me if it is yours okay?" "Sure, why not." "David." "Why yes, that's my first name but how did you know?" I asked quite astounded. "And your last name is Stevens, right?" I was totally flustered by her statement. "Well, yes, it is, but how do you know." "Oh my God it can't be true," was all she could say. She repeated herself several times. "What can't be true? What are you talking about?" I asked in a very confused state. "Here, I'll show you," Andrea went to a china closet that had three drawers in it. She opened the top draw and pulled out what was obviously a photo album. She sat beside me on the sofa and open the album. It was filled with old pictures. "Here," she said after having flipped through a few pages and pointed to one picture, "this is a picture of my grandmother as taken when she was 24. The photographer is unknown. This is Porter Square as you can see and grandpa always said that only poor people went there, so he didn't take it. "I remembered taking a number of pictures of Andrea in and around Porter Square but she was certainly not dressed as this woman." I said. "Rumor had it that she had a lover and she'd meet him there and go to a house she had rented on Chauncy Street. That house burned down in 1910 and another was built in its place. That house was a twin to this. After grandpa died Grammy talked more openly about those days. She told us she thought grandpa had a lot of lovers but she refused to go into it so we'll never know. She said for her part she'd had only one lover but that he was the one true love of her life. She would say no more about him except for his name, David Stevens and now I have a David Stevens on my couch who is looking for an Andrea. I think I'm going crazy," she said quite breathlessly. I sat there astounded at what I had heard and seen and refused to believe that there was any linkage. My problem was that it was easier to prove the linkage than disprove it and that almost unnerved me. "No," I said, "I don't think you are going crazy at all. I'm sure there is a logical explanation for all of this. There has to be. There's no way I could have made love to your grandmother!" Before I could retract the words they were out there. I could only think that I had blown it again. "So what you're saying is that you were Grammy's lover?" Andrea asked in disbelief. "No, no, I wasn't. I couldn't have been. The woman I love is 24 years old and I've just confused streets or something and I just happened to go to another house where an Andrea lives," I said it but I didn't believe it. "A house that coincidentally is the address you were looking for, where a woman named Andrea lives who looks remarkably like the woman you are looking for? Do you really believe that?" she asked. Her statement scared me. Even as I repeated it to myself I could hear how preposterous it sounded. I didn't know what to do or say next. I paused and then said very quietly, "No." I paused again and continued, "How can this be explained?" "I don't know," Andrea said, "and I, the great scientist, am supposed to be good at explaining phenomena." "What kind of scientist are you," I asked. "I'm an astronomer for Harvard's observatory. I am supposed to be pragmatic and well grounded and now I am being asked to believe in ghosts. Oh lord." Well, what do we do now?" I asked. "I'm at a total loss." "Shall we go have some brunch and talk about it over coffee and whatever?" "Sounds like an excellent idea to me," I said. We actually got a lot accomplished that day and we did set up another meeting and then another meeting after that. I was really enjoying Andrea's company especially the memories it brought back to me. I told her how much I enjoyed being with her. It seemed things were working out in one way but I still had this mystery to contend with. "Andrea, being with you is like being with your grandmother," I said again one day after a very enjoyable dinner. "What made you say that?" she asked. "Because you do. Everything you do, the way you talk, your gestures and even the way you walk reminds me of her." "So you're saying you still believe you were with my grandmother," she queried. I thought about what I had said for a few seconds and then replied, "I guess so. I guess that's the only answer there is." "Well, there is one more question. Why did it happen?" "Good question and I really don't think we're going to be able to answer that one," I said quite assuredly. "I'm not so sure," she said. I wanted to respond but I felt like I was losing touch with reality. So instead I said, "You know Andrea, I really love being with you and I'd like to date you on a regular basis." "I really like you too David and I'd like to date you. In fact, I thought we already were. That is also the answer." "To what?" I asked. "The why question." "I don't understand." "I think grammy wanted to bring us together. David, you are the first person I've dated since high school. I didn't believe I would ever enjoy myself with anyone but you have shown me to be wrong and thank God you have." Andrea was smiling broadly as she said that. Well, the rest is movie ending material and as you could guess we got married, had kids and lived quite happily. I moved into that house near Harvard Square and sometimes at night I'll swear I see Andrea smiling at me, that is, Grandmother Andrea.