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“I’d say that’s great. But it doesn’t change the fact that you wrote it – and you misled everyone. Including my parents, who treated you like family.”
“Jack—"
“Henri. Don’t. Just leave and never come back.”
“Jack!” I shouted into dead air. He had hung up. I dialed his number again, but this time it went directly to voicemail.
I typed a text.Let me explain. My finger hovered above the send button. A text wasn’t going to save this. I took a deep breath and instead of pressing ‘send’, I pressed delete.
Shivering, I headed into the diner. Without Jack’s coat, the air in Chance Rapids cut through to my bones. Muriel was in the kitchen. I slid into one of the booths and tapped my fingers on the table. What had been the perfect night was turning into a nightmare of a day.
Silent Night, the saddest of all the carols played through the diner’s speakers. When Muriel came to my table, she didn’t smile. “Coffee?” she held up the carafe and looked at me like I was a stranger.
I nodded and slid my mug and saucer to the edge of the table. When she didn’t offer me the local’s coffee, I knew that she knew. “Your car is ready.” She took the keys from her apron. “It’s out back. The insurance company is going to take care of the bill.”
“Muriel.” I reached and grabbed her hand. She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t jerk away from me. “Can I explain?”
“You hurt my son.” Her voice was as cold as Jack’s. “I love the people of this town like family and you hurt them too.”
“I know.” I didn’t let go of her hand. Tears welled in my eyes and the orange formica tables blurred. I blinked the tears away. “Muriel. I came here to write that story. It’s true.”
Muriel looked like she was blinking back tears too. “That’s terrible Henrietta. Why would you do that?”
“It was my assignment,” I said. My voice was quiet and I knew that it wasn’t a good excuse. “I changed my mind though. That story was never going to be published. Muriel, you have to believe me. I was going to write a new one. I came here with an idea about the people who lived in a town like this, but as I got to know everyone, I changed my mind…”
Muriel shook her head. “That’s the difference between city and country people. A good person wouldn’t have done it in the first place. We’re not fancy people, Henri. Sure, we have faults but we care about each other. That’s something that’s been lost in a lot of places, but not here.”
Jack and Muriel were stubborn, and I had hurt them. I didn’t blame them for hating me. I reached into my pocket to find some change to pay for the coffee, but my fingers brushed on something hard and metallic. Jack’s weird antique key.
I slid the key across the table with a five-dollar bill. “Muriel. I’m sorry. I care about your son and I’ve grown to care about a lot of people in this town too. I’m going to make it right. I promise.”
Muriel sighed. “Alright dear. You do your best to fix this, but I’m not sure how you’re going to do it.” She picked up the key. “What’s this?”
“It’s Jack’s. Can you please make sure he gets it.”
Muriel tucked the key into her apron and nodded. I handed her my business card. “The story is going to run this afternoon. It’s an online newspaper, the website address is on my card. Can you please make sure that Jack gets this card?”
The card went into her apron with the key. “I will.” Then Muriel walked away without saying goodbye.
I picked up my bag. “I guess it’s time to go.” I said to no one.
The rental car was sitting in the back parking lot. I tossed my bag into the back seat and drove down Main Street one last time before heading East.
In the rear view mirror, the colorful mining houses of Chance Rapids were blurry through my tears. I let the tears stream down my face all the way to Windswan. By that time, my feet were overheating and I pulled over in the neighboring town to change into my motorcycle boots. I was going back to the city. I needed to shed the small-town skin I’d tried on. Standing at the back of the car, I balanced on one foot and then the other, putting on my boots.
I knew that the cell service would be spotty for the next sixteen or so hours, so I took the opportunity to call The Platypus office. I confirmed that the article had been received and insisted that it be uploaded as soon as possible.
It was all out of my hands now. I got in the car and didn’t look back.
The roads were icy and I held onto the steering wheel with all my might. It felt like the harder I held onto it, the more control I would have over the crappy sedan. The car in front of me fluttered its brakes and started to fishtail.
I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I was looking at the headlights of the car in front of me, when I should have been seeing its tail lights. That’s when I realized that it was spinning out of control. I jerked the steering wheel to the right, choosing the ditch over a head on collision. The snowbank exploded as I rammed into it, a wave of snow crashing over the entire car. I couldn’t see a thing, the car was still moving, and snow was still battering against the car. Then there was a loud crunch, followed by darkness.
EIGHTEEN
JACK
The movie setwas active and the hustle and bustle was blocking the sidewalk in front of Charlotte’s office. I had to wait until the director yelled ‘cut’, before I could even walk down the street to get in the front door.
