the bewitching sirens that are time, chance, and memory

at a hip restaurant in the Mission with an out-of-town couple we are meeting for the first time for a work thing:

me, slowly getting the picture that they are a relatively recent couple though they are likely in their mid-50s:  "so how did you two meet?"

her:  "well that's a great story."

him, giving her an affectionate grin

her:  "we knew each other as children--we went to school together."  [insert explanation of the early childhood education system in the U.K. during their childhood which demonstrates they were friends from around age five to nine]

him:  "we were childhood sweethearts.  I kissed her once."

her, kind of a little bit blushing:  "in England at the time when you were around nine you took a test.  and if you passed the test you went to a middle school that was a preparation for college.  and if you failed the test it led more of a trade-school path."

him, looking down at the table

her:  "I passed.  and he didn't."

brief pause

her:  "and then we didn't see each other again for all these years." [insert some details about the separation and eventual reconnection, involving the fact that each were married and divorced before their paths crossed again all those years later]

me:  "so have you asked yourself the question much?  you know, what would have happened if you'd stayed together then?  how your life would have been different?"

her, poking him in the ribs:  "if you'd passed the test!"

him, laughing

her:  "no."

him:  "no."

her:  "it doesn't work like that.  it wouldn't have worked then."

him:  "now it works."

her: "it works perfectly."