The clock struck three in the morning as John shook the match out and took a drag on a fresh cigarette. Grabbing his drink, he made his way over to the couch and sat, exhausted yet unable to sleep. The haze of smoke stung his dry eyes. He took a sip and sighed. “Fucking Raleigh!”
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Brian picked himself up and gathered the broken halves of his thick, black-rimmed glasses. He turned as Sophie reached him.
“What did we do?” she asked, looking at the pack of bullies as they walked away laughing .
“I don’t know, Sophie. But don’t worry about them. As long as we’re together everything’ll be alright.”
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He stood silently.
“Come on,” she said. “For me.”
Still he said nothing.
“Think of all we’ve been through, the memories. Think about the future we’ve planned. Don’t throw it all away. I’m just asking this one little thing.”
She pleaded with her eyes. He blinked, turned on his heels, and walked away for good.
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Adam followed his new riding companion into the dusty saloon and took a seat at the end of the bar. From the other end, a grim man looked up from his drink, glanced their way, and seemed to nod. Anticipating what was about to happen, Adam took a deep breath and prepared for a fight.
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Desperation had driven her to a place she rarely went, the old church near her apartment. As she knelt, praying, a ray of light shone through a small, untinted corner of glass in the grand window illuminating a crumpled scrap of paper. Reading the words she gasped and offered a silent, half-believed “thank you.”
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“Dr. Carpenter, you’re late.”
“Some moron in a blue Mercedes cut me off on my way here. On his phone, not paying any attention. What’s the emergency?”
“Hit and run. Seven year old victim. Here’s the father.”
“Sir–” Before Dr. Carpenter stood the driver of a blue Mercedes, panic and anger mixed in his eyes.
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Thomas nearly lost hope after fourteen years. Today, however, the sun shone brightly and a warm breeze raised goosebumps on his neck. A cacophony of wildflowers bloomed across the road while fat, striped bumblebees danced in time from petal to petal.
Thomas walked to the bus stop, head held high, clutching the paper stamped “Pardoned.”
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Red and blue lights twinkled over her shoulder as she rolled down the window. Her heart thumped and pulsated in her ears where the now silent bass once had. Putting on her most humble smile, she turned to face the uniformed man walking toward her.
“What are you doing out at this hour, Ms. Hilton?”
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Tuesday came and went without remark. Joan sighed as she went to bed, but not in sadness. Rather it was a sigh of confirmation. Of acceptance. Joan had not expected him to say or do anything; that he didn’t only made it easier for her to accept her decision. Tomorrow she would call a lawyer.
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At long last the kids were quiet, and Mark had finished enough tasks that he felt justified going to bed. Midnight had long past, and soon someone would be asking, “Daddy, what’s for breakfast?”
Closing his eyes, he felt thankful for today and overwhelmed at the prospect of tomorrow. He had never imagined parenting alone.
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