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The Postcard
EMILY COULDN’T SHAKE the shock after the arraignment. The week before, she fretted about what would happen, and it turned out that nothing happened at all. She went in with Justin to the Middletown Superior Courthouse and waited for the clerk to call her case. After a couple hours, she stood and gave her not guilty plea. Her bond was continued, and a court date of two weeks given.
“Why,” she said, shaking, “hasn't this thing gone away?”
They were walking toward the parking lot on a cold, gray April day.
“The speeding and reckless endangerment charges didn’t help, and your boyfriend refuses to drop the charges.” Justin checked his phone and glanced at Emily, giving her a sympathetic smile.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
They reached Justin’s car, and he unlocked it with the key fob. As they got in he shook his head. “Yeah, he’s a real piece of work.” Justin started the engine. “He left a message with my office this morning saying that if you didn’t pay this month’s car payment, he’s going to sue you.”
“But he has the car!”
“I know. That’s why he’s not getting a single penny from you. He wanted the car, he has it. He can pay for it now.”
Justin paid for parking at the gate, then swung onto Court Street and then onto Main.
Emily rubbed her forehead. This was the worst nightmare ever. “Well, I need to do something for transportation. I can’t keep using Angela’s car. Between paying Angela back for the bond she put up and you for your retainer, my savings are shot. I’m so screwed.” She sighed.
“You should talk to your father.”
“No! The last thing I want is for my father to know about this mess. Thank goodness he and Mom are still in Florida.”
“That isn’t going to last, Emily,” Justin said. “You know they’re going to be home this weekend.”
“I know, I know,” muttered Emily. Between worrying about the charges, and dodging the questions at work about her absences, she was a nervous wreck. Plus, though Evan hadn’t made an appearance since the police ran him off the night after she was arrested, she worried what he would do next.
As if he was reading her mind, Justin said, “I still think you should reconsider moving back to your parents’ house, at least for a little while.”
“No, damn it, Justin! Evan’s screwed up my life enough! I’m not going to run.”
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands. “Just giving you advice like a good attorney should.”
Now she felt bad for being a jerk to him. “You’ve been great, you really have. I was just hoping all of this would have gone away by now.”
He shrugged. “The wheels of justice turn slowly. Don’t worry. The partner I work with at the law firm is reviewing your case, and he knows the prosecutors here. He’ll get things sorted out for you.”
Emily sighed. They travelled past the nineteenth century buildings owned by Wesleyan University and made their way towards Westfield. She couldn’t help but feel as old as those two hundred-year-old mansions.
Justin dropped her off at her apartment. Emily collected the mail from her and Mrs. Diggerty’s boxes before going inside. The poor lady had been having difficulty getting up and down the stairs, and Emily worried about her. She wondered if maybe Mrs. Diggerty should be living with family somewhere else, but when Emily brought it up, Mrs. Diggerty was adamant.
“This is where I raised my family.” The stubborn woman refused to budge. “My poor husband’s fingerprints are on every inch of this house. I can’t leave it, not while I’m living.”
“But the second floor is getting tough for you.”
“I know, but I need the rent from the first floor to make expenses. I don’t need all that space anymore. I’ll be fine, Emily. With you helping me with the little things, I’m getting on well enough.”
Emily hadn’t tried to convince her to move anymore after that.
She jogged up the stairs and knocked on Mrs. Diggerty’s door.
“Mail,” Emily called through the door.
“Just slip it under,” Mrs. Diggerty said from inside her room. “I’m resting with my feet up.”
“Sure.” Emily shuffled through the mail once more, almost putting a postcard in with Mrs. Diggerty’s batch, when she stopped and looked at it again. “Central Valley Bike Repairs” was the name on the window of the building. That was odd. She turned it over to see it was addressed to her. The message stopped her short.
I still think about you.
She gasped. It couldn’t be.
No.
Hastily she stuffed Mrs. Diggerty’s mail under her door and unlocked the door to her own apartment. She stared at the card, unsure of what to do. Was it from Luke? Or was this Evan playing a sick joke on her? Who else could it be? Quickly she pulled out her laptop and fidgeted nervously as the machine booted up. She googled Central Valley Bike Repair and got an address, and a phone number, but little else.
Her hands shaking, she called the phone number the Internet gave her.
“Central Valley Bike Repair,” a voice said. “Gibs here.”
Emily didn’t know what to do. Should she ask for Luke and see if he was there? What if this Gibs guy was one of Evan’s friends?
She hung up.
Staring at the address again, she tried to picture it. It was in Walkerville, the next town over. Should she drive over? If she was, it should be today, because tomorrow she had to be back in work. Emily decided she had to know. With a quick cuddle to Reger, she set off down the stairs to find the source of the mystery postcard.
#
SHE COULDN’T BELIEVE she was doing this. She pulled in to the parking lot across from Central Valley Bike Repair and gaped at it. The building was a large cinderblock rectangle, three large garage doors cut into the left three quarters of the building, and a small red door at the shop’s business entrance. The three garage bay doors were wide open, and she saw three men walking around. One was a Hispanic man, the other a guy that looked like he played for ZZ Top and a skinnier dark-haired, and strangely, clean-shaven man. But no Luke.
She was about to start her car to go home when the roar of a motorbike claimed the road. With eyes wide she saw the guy from the highway, the one who rode the 2009 XL Sportster, pull in and park at the side of the building as if he owned it.
Emily gasped. Looking at him, watching him walk and especially after he took off his sunglasses, she knew it was Luke Wade.
Oh, he was bigger, not the skinny kid she remembered. No, his chest was broader and his arms more muscled. He was fucking gorgeous.
Emily swallowed hard and her breath caught in her throat.
Luke. What was she going to do now?
She was going to go home, that was it. So he sent her a postcard. Big deal. If he knew where she was why didn’t he contact her sooner?
Emily started her car, fully intending to turn right to take her back to the highway. Right, towards home, towards safety. Towards loneliness.
At the last second she steered hard to the left, and then into the parking lot of Central Valley Bike Repair.
#
“Excuse me.” A woman’s voice cut through the shop. “Did someone here mail me a postcard?”
Luke looked up from his computer, and his mouth fell open.
Emily.
She stood in the doorway of his shop looking like an angel. He looked her over from head to toe, her blonde hair, bright blue eyes, her button nose, and those curves of hers. She was wearing a dress, a white and blue floral number that highlighted her eyes, her pale skin, and her luscious legs.
Here was an Emily ten years older, more polished, gorgeous, sexier.
Luke pulled himself together and closed his mouth. He was acting like a high school kid. Smooth. He needed to be smooth. He smiled widely. “Glad you got it.”
She nodded her head.
“Well, um, thanks. I’ve got to go.”
Go? She just stepped in. Luke stood quickly. “Wait! I mean, you just got here. I’d love to catch up with you.”
She seemed nervous. Well, not half as nervous as he was. His heart sped up looking at her. “I really—”
“There’s a little coffee shop next door. I’m buying. Come on, one cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt, would it?” He flashed her his best grin.
“No, I guess not.” She smiled at him and his heart nearly stopped.
“Guys,” he called out. “I’m taking a break.” He didn’t hear them reply and he didn’t care. Emily walked ahead of him a couple paces out of the shop but then stopped, looking at him for direction. He pointed to the right, and she followed across the parking lot. At the cement divide between his lot and the next, she stumbled and he took her arm and steadied her as she tottered on her high heels. He almost didn’t let go of her arm, but she pulled away from him.
“It’s really good to see you.” He couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.
“Same,” she replied.
Hell, she wasn’t giving anything away. He wanted to know all about her, what happened after the accident. Why she didn’t try to see him.
They arrived at the coffee shop, and Luke navigated them to the counter. “What do you want?” He wished he could say so much more. Like, ‘You're beautiful, you’re sexy, where the hell have you been for the past ten years?’
“Just a cup of black,” she spoke, barely above a whisper. “Small.”
“Okay. Wanda, a small black and my usual.”
“Sure thing, Luke.”
Wanda handed them the coffees, Emily’s small black and Luke’s extra large with sugar and cream.
“How about here?” Luke pointed as he led her to a small table by the window.
“Sure.”
They sat and Luke looked at her. “You look great,” he said finally.
“Thanks, so do you.”
“So, what’ve you been up to?” He played with the lid of his cup.
“You mean the past ten years?” She shrugged. “Going to college, getting a job, getting arrested.”
“I read about that.” He chuckled at how matter-of-fact she said it. She in no way seemed matter-of-fact. “It’s how I knew your address.”
She gave him a questioning expression.
“The Police Blotter. In the newspaper.”
“Oh.” She took a sip of her coffee, hiding behind the cup.
“What happened?”
Emily sighed. “My own stupidity. I allowed my boyfriend to help me purchase a car. Don’t get me wrong, I paid every cent of it. When I kicked him to the curb, he got nasty and called it in as a stolen car.”
Luke shook his head as he put his cup down. “What a douche.”
“Yeah.” She looked down at her coffee, then back at him. “What about you?”
“Well, after the accident, it took a few months to get back on my feet, and then a few months more to be able to walk normally. By the time I could visit you, you’d already left for college.”
She looked down at her coffee again. “Yeah.” She shifted, as if ready to go.
Luke cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “I survived. I got my GED, spent some time knocking around, then decided to do something productive. I went into the Navy, where I worked on the engines for the big ships, and saved everything I made. Saw a lot of the world, saved as much money as I could, and when I got home, used that to open my shop.”
“That’s a good story. Better than mine.”
Luke felt a twinge uncomfortable not telling her the entire story, but he wasn’t going to blow his chance with her again. There was time enough to tell her everything if things went the way he wanted.
She gulped down the rest of her coffee. “Well, I have to go.” She stood. “It was nice seeing you.”
“Wait!” He tossed a couple bills on the table. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”
She hesitated and then shrugged. “Sure.”
During the walk back, Luke slipped his arm around her waist, like he used to when they were teenagers. She didn’t protest, which he took as a good sign. When they got to her car, he still held on to her.
“Luke,” she murmured.
“Em, I want to see you again.” Without waiting for her to reply, without waiting for her permission, he pulled her against him and crushed his lips to hers. His heart sped as he tasted the lips he’d missed for so many years, and like a kid, his cock got hard as he kissed her. Her lips parted, and he slid his tongue into her glorious mouth, his tongue playing with hers, the taste of her making his head spin.
She pulled away, her cheeks flushed.
“What do you say, Em? Will you see me again?”
