Two former lovers meet on a cold and bittersweet Christmas eve. ­

Inspired by the music, and in memoriam of, Dan Fogelberg.

Auld Lang Syne
Breanna Ramsey

I hadn't seen her since our sophomore year in college, almost ten years earlier, so it took me a minute to recognize my old roommate. She'd transferred to another school and then I became America's latest pop idol thanks to that television show. After that we just sort of lost touch. Okay, that's not really true; we were more than just roommates and the breakup was hard on us both. There's just something about your first love — even when it ends you never quite get over it.

She was pushing her cart down the frozen food aisle as I slipped up behind her and touched the sleeve of her coat to get her attention. When she turned and looked at me there was a moment of confusion — I had my hair stuffed up under a baseball cap and was wearing dark glasses in an attempt to remain incognito, so it was no surprise she didn't recognize me at first.

"Angel?" she asked, her lips blossoming into a smile.

"Hello, Karen," I said. "It's good to see you."

"Oh, Angel, it's been so long!" she laughed, moving closer to hug me. Her purse slipped off her arm as she did and ended up spilling everything out. She looked embarrassed for a moment and then we both started laughing as we squatted down to gather everything up.

"As you can see I'm still a klutz," she said as she brushed a laugh-tear from her cheek and then fussed with her long, blond hair.

"But an adorable klutz," I said.

She blushed slightly and asked, "So what brings you out on Christmas Eve? I'd expect you to be back in LA at some big party or something."

"Not this year," I said. I spent most of my time in Los Angeles, but I kept a place in Cohasset for those times when I just wanted to get back to my roots. "I was planning on a quiet night at home but I had a craving for some ice cream. How about you?"

"Just picking up a few last minute things for Christmas dinner," she said. "Say, why don't you forget the ice cream and let's go have a couple of drinks. I'd love to sit and catch up for a bit."

"That sounds great," I said, looking at her half-full cart. "You think your groceries will be all right?"

"There's nothing really perishable — besides it’s freezing outside."

"Tell me about it," I laughed. "I walked here thinking it wouldn't be too bad, but I'm afraid my bloods gotten a little thin."

We made small talk at the checkout as her groceries were rung up. The cashier kept staring at me, but she wasn't certain enough to ask if I was really Angel Vasquez and Karen made a point of not saying my name. Once her food was bagged we took it out to her SUV. I wasn't surprised to see it was a Lexus — I'd always known Karen would be a success. When she set her sights on a goal, she achieved it, no matter how unlikely it might seem.

After about fifteen minutes of searching we came to the conclusion that we weren't going to find an open bar — it was Christmas eve after all. We did manage to find a liquor store that was open, so I went in and got us a six pack of beer and then we drove out to the lighthouse at Bryant Point. I twisted the tops off two of the bottles and passed one to Karen.

"What should we drink to?"

Karen thought for a moment and then said, "Innocence."

I smiled and we tapped our bottlers together before taking a drink. Then Karen smacked me on the shoulder, her eyes narrowing as she glared at me.

"Why didn't you ever write or call me? I sent you a dozen letters and you never answered once."

"I don't know … I wanted to. I guess I felt ashamed. I mean I said all those things to you and…."

"Oh Angel, honey, I never held any of that against you," Karen said. "It's just … we wanted different things. I know I hurt you when I left."

"You did, but that's no excuse," I said. I took another drink and then studied my finely manicured nails for a moment and then pulled my cap off, shaking my head to loosen my long, black hair.

"You know I loved you, don't you?"

"I know," I said, wanting to change the subject to something less painful. I noticed the diamond on her left hand and asked, "How long have you been married?"

"Two years," she said with a smile. "His name is Michael and he's really wonderful. He's an architect."

"I'm glad you found someone to love."

She smiled again, but I could see a hint of sadness in her eyes. We drained our beers and I opened two more. We sat there for a few minutes in silence, staring out across the cove.

"You went to law school I hope."

"I did," she told me. "I work for a firm in Boston. You've done well too. I've followed your career and I've got all your albums. I always knew you belonged in the spotlight."

"I love it, being in front of all those people is such a rush. The touring can be a real pain though. Sometimes I forget what city I'm in."

"I can imagine," she said. "How about another toast? It's your turn this time."

"To time," I said as we clinked bottles, "and the way it heals all wounds."

"Mostly," she said.

"You look beautiful."

"You're a good liar."

"I mean it," I insisted. "I always thought you were gorgeous, but now you just ... you glow."

Even in the dim glow from the overhead light I could tell she was blushing.

"Thank you."

We stayed until we ran out of beer and things to talk about. It wasn't that neither of us had anything else to say but more that what we had to say we couldn't — or wouldn't. I started to give her directions to my house but she smiled and told me she knew where it was. I told her she could let me off at the end of the drive, and as I started to get out she reached out and brushed my hair. Then she leaned over and gently kissed me on the lips.

"You know you're welcome to join us for dinner tomorrow," she said.

"I wouldn't want to intrude," I said.

"Okay, but you keep in touch, please?"

"I will," I promised.

I stepped out into the snow and zipped up my jacket before waving goodbye. Karen flashed me a radiant smile, and I stood there and watched her as she drove away. My mind drifted back to our time together in school and a bittersweet smile crossed my face.

From the moment I first saw Karen in our dorm room, I had known there was something different about her, something special. I'd fallen madly in love with her too. Of course she wasn't Karen then, she was Stephen — it was just my luck to find the perfect guy, only to learn he wasn't gay at all, and he wasn't really even a guy. When Stephen had told me he was seeing a therapist ... that he was going to become a woman, I totally lost it. We were both in the closet then and I'd told him he was just afraid to admit to the world that he was gay, and if he transitioned he'd just be living a lie. It turns out I was the one who was afraid - I was still in the closet, living a lie to sell records. But Karen - she'd become the person she always knew she was.

With a sigh I stuffed my hands into my coat pockets and turned towards the house. The wind started to pick up, and the light snowfall became a downpour of freezing rain as I trudged up the driveway.

We drank a toast to innocence, we drank a toast to now;
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness, but neither one knew how.

We drank a toast to innocence, we drank a toast to time;
Reliving in our eloquence, another auld lang syne...

Same Old Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg (August 13, 1951 - December 16, 2007)