Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.
A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image. You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- lemon. This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.
A few days after the support meeting, I decided it was time to touch base with Kara. Kara initially tried to reach out to me shortly after Garrett died. Then, I really wasn’t in a good place to accept her support. Retreating to my cave may have upset some of my friends, but, I just wanted to be left alone. I realized I needed to make some repairs on our bridge of friendship. “Kara, it’s me, Rachel.”
“It’s wonderful to hear from you!” Her voice held no tone, no sarcasm, and no hidden meanings.
“Can we meet for coffee, lemon pie, or something similar today?” The moment of truth, would she say yes, or wave away my offer like an unwanted insect?
I held my breath.
So, here I was out in public again, surviving, putting one foot in front of the other. I was a little early, I wanted to make sure Kara knew I was sincere. I figured waiting on her was a good start. A few acquaintances waved in my direction, giving me space. I felt like a porcupine, or a skunk.
I guess I was that unapproachable.
Kara burst through the doors of the café, obviously excited to see me. “Hey, you!” Wrapping me in a huge hug, she squeezed me tightly. “I missed you so much.”
“I know, me too. I’m sorry I haven’t been more sociable.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m here and I love you.” She turned her attention to Ryan. “Here he is! What a handsome little guy.”
“Do you want to hold him?”
She looked at me as if I was on bizarre drugs. “Well, of course!” Without any further prompting, she reached into the carrier and carefully lifted him out. She spent the next ten minutes just fussing over my smiling little boy. “He’s incredible.”
“He’s the center of my world, that’s for sure.”
“I’m really glad you called me. I missed you something fierce.”
“I haven’t been in a very receptive place. It’s been really hard.”
“I know.” She patted my arm, and her touch was peaceful, caring, warm, and most importantly, genuine.We began chatting, and it was like riding a bike. We carried on like high school girls, barely touching our drinks. Minutes turned into hours and the afternoon was a glorious reminder of the life I had in front of me.