Benjamin Patterson crumpled the paper bag from his finished burger and tossed it at a nearby trash bin. He missed. A gaggle of teenage girls passed the bin, and he raised a hand to petition assistance.

"Excuse me, would you mind –"

They continued without a glance in his direction. Their eyes fixed on the ripped "Cupid" who donned something resembling Depends.

Benjamin huffed an almost-laugh, amusement mingled with self-pity. Decades ago, he led his high school basketball team to nationals. Now, he couldn't sink a ball of paper in a trashcan. Months ago, he commanded attention in the courtroom. Now, he couldn't flag down kids in a food court. Each little reminder fueled the fear he could never voice aloud.

He was losing himself.

Benjamin pushed to his feet and stooped to snatch the miscreant balled paper. His knees crackled and back ached. Despite a diet and exercise regimen as carefully-controlled as his work life, he felt every one of his sixty-seven years of age today.

He sank back into his seat and marveled at his surroundings, so familiar yet painfully foreign. When he celebrated Valentine's Day at this mall with his high school sweetheart so many years ago, this sprawling plaza boasted just one ice cream stand beside a city of arcade games and a gaudy carousel. Back then, he scraped together pennies for weeks just to play pinball and buy Charlotte an ice cream cone.

Back then, holding her hand made him feel invincible.

God, what he wouldn't give to feel that giddy delight again. He came to this mall hoping for a walk down memory lane. But now, sleek tables with high-top chairs sliced rows across the plaza, and teens in baggy sweaters and ripped jeans flashed photos of their salads and kissy lips. Where the carousel once stood, fake plants flanked a chemically-teal fountain, and a shimmering pink tent towered over the food court. Replacing the whirring and beeping of arcade games, a modern love song wailed over a techno beat.

It was a beat Benjamin could no longer follow.

At the table beside him, a girl shrieked and dropped her burger. Benjamin spun to see a spotted critter scampering across the white laminate. A gecko?

The miniature reptile weaved through the maze of paper sacks, tail flicking side-to-side. At the end of its obstacle course, it cocked its head at him.

"You're right," Benjamin told the gecko. "That pet store owner will be facing serious legal repercussions."

It licked its eyeball.

"No, not from me," Benjamin replied. "I'm retired."

The gecko yawned.

Benjamin arched an eyebrow. "Don't give me that attitude. You shouldn't even be here."

And neither should I.

The critter slinked off the table, and Benjamin's shoulders slumped with his sigh. How had he come to this, empathizing more with a gecko than with other humans? Perhaps society had devolved, or perhaps he had. Over the years of perfecting the art of argument, he had lost the art of connection. New lawyers whispered "Attorney Patterson" with reverence, but no longer did anyone call him –

"Benny?"

His gaze snapped up to meet twinkling dark-brown eyes. Braided gray hair poofed under a clip in the back, and ebony skin wrinkled in all the right places: around her eyes, beside her lips, in the surprised crease of her forehead. One hand propped on her hip, accentuating generous curves, and the other clasped a pink beverage.

His breath left in a whoosh. "Charlotte."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," he croaked.

She cast a glance over her shoulder before settling into the seat beside him. He tried to follow her gaze, unease pinching his gut. Was her husband here? Was she concerned about being seen with a former flame?

He picked out words with careful restraint, like examining nutritional facts in a grocery store. "If you are here on a date, I would hate to interrupt."

Her laugh cut through the music. "My 'date' is otherwise occupied. Don't look now, but he's flirting with that young man near the fountain."

On the fountainside bench, Benjamin spotted a teenager who shared a number of Charlotte's features – skin a few tones lighter, but the same beautiful curls, the same thick eyelashes. The boy's gaze fastened to the ponytailed lad beside him.

Charlotte elbowed Benjamin. "You just looked!"

"Oops, sorry. Is he your grandchild?"

"The one and only. Jordan."

Benjamin hummed approval. "He's a handsome young man, your grandson. The other lad is too, but not as handsome as Jordan."

Her smile crinkled her eyes. "I quite agree."

God, the pride in her voice. So beautiful. An uncomfortable warmth flooded his chest. He was accustomed to controlling emotions in the courtroom, but this was harder. If he wasn't careful, he might voice one of the bizarre, selfish thoughts running through his head.

Thoughts like, If I hadn't lost you, that grandson could be ours.

~~~~~~

spelunkadunk
Dunk writes character-driven fantasy-romance with unexpected twists on common tropes. Expect flawed heroes of every race, gender, and orientation facing seemingly insurmountable threats while falling in love.
A warning: dark topics/themes
A promise: always a happy ending