Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration to get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Hereβs my flash.
βWell, here we are, Chip. Back in Beech Grove, Indiana!β
βYou know, Babs. The old homestead really hasnβt changed much.β
βThe Colonial Movie House is still open! Man, Iβm so happy they didnβt get rid of that beautiful faΓ§ade. Mom hated it, always saying it looked like a widowβs walk.β
βI bet you canβt remember the first movie we saw there, sis. Loser buys lunch.β
βAre you kidding me? It was βThe Blobβ with Steve McQueen. God, I loved that man!β
βThatβs right! I forgot about your crush!β
βLook! Fire Station #1910 is now a burger joint. Youβre buying, bro!β
Saunders Drive. On the right corner stood the library, looking exactly as it did the last time I saw it. Diagonally across the street was the church we attended every Sunday, the preacher bellowing about morals and principles. Directly across from the church was a quaint-looking inn with a sign over the doorway β βWelcome Home!β And on the fourth corner was the big Colonial house where the Casey Family lived.
Jeff Casey was my first boyfriend; feels like a hundred years ago. Now there was a prominent shingle on the front lawn which read JEFFREY CASEY, M.D. A doctor! I never should have broken up with him!
My childhood house was a stoneβs throw from the Caseyβs. Not quite ready to see the old place just yet, I kept walking. About halfway down Main Street, I came across a boho-chic coffee shop/poetβs corner calledΒ βBeggars, Cynics and Euripidesβ. A pretty young woman wearing a rainbow tie dyed hippie skirt was preparing lunch tables outside. The freshly-painted red chairs were staggering in their brilliance. She smiled pleasantly at me and asked if Iβd like a table.Β
βWhy not?β I answered as she handed me a menu. I was engrossed in reading the descriptions of the lunch fare when I became aware of someone standing nearby watching me. Glancing over my shoulder, I was pleasantly surprised to see the still-handsome face of Jeff Casey grinning at me.
βRebecca Gardner! My God! Whatβs it been β 20 years? What brings you back to town?β
βJeff!You look great!β and I instinctively hugged him. βPlease join me.β
The waitress took our orders for iced coffee and as we waited, that warm, relaxed feeling between us resurfaced.
βTwenty years exactly. My folks sold the house after I graduated college. Honestly, Iβm not sure why Iβm here. Memories, you know?β
We caught up on life β marriages, divorces, etc. β and I mentioned going to see my old house but for whatever reason I was nervous.
Jeff tossed a twenty on the table and said βCome on. Letβs go together.β And before I could think of an excuse, he took my hand and we were on our way.
βThe Matthews Family lives here now. Nice people.β Jeff bounded up the front steps and rang the doorbell. No answer.
The old oak tree was standing proud and tall in the front yard. My fingers lightly traced the weathered heart shape with our initials carved inside and we shared a smile and unspoken memories.
We strolled up Saunders Drive to Jeffβs place, neither of us in a rush for this bubble of serendipity to burst. Jess sighed. βWell, Iβve got patients to see.”
βAnd Iβve got a train to catchβ I replied. βJeff, it’s been too long. Let’s keep in touch.β
βI’d like that, Becca. By the way, I make housecalls.β He smiled over his shoulder as he disappeared inside.
Itβs all new Birthday Thursdays at The Rhythm Section. No talk, no fuss, no muss. Just wall-to-wall music! Stop by and check it out! π https://rhythmsection.blog/