Welcome to my Short Fiction Friday. On the first and third Friday of the month, I am going to post a short fiction. It might be a flash of only 500 words or it could be a short story. I don’t really know. I was just going to write until the story is done.
If you are a writer and want to participate, link to your blog in the comments and I would love to read what you wrote!
A Returned Love
Mark watched the seconds tick by on his wristwatch as he sat his patrol car at the edge of Sunnydale. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The second hand inched from one line to another until the minute hand clicked on to the black number twelve at the top of the watch. He blew out a breath and reached for the radio.
“This is Deputy Mark.”
“Go ahead, Mark.” The radio crackled and wheezed.
“Ten-four. See you on Monday.” The radio buzzed and then fell silent.
“Finally, the weekend.” He shifted the police cruiser into drive and turned on the lights. Accelerating the car, he pulled out into traffic and weaved his way around pulled over vehicles. Cracking the steering wheel, the car skidded around the corner, off the highway, and on to Main Street. He lifted his foot off the accelerator and whipped the car into the only remaining spot in front of Sunny’s Flowers and Gifts. Killing the engine, he leapt from the vehicle and sprinted to the door. The humidity from inside the building fogged up the glass panes, making it impossible to see inside. He jerked the door open as a little bell rang out.
The little stooped man sat on a high stool in front of an ancient cash register. “You’re just in time,” he called out. The factory bell tolled five o’clock and the old man jumped down from his stool. He scurried across the floor, ignoring the woman who had just put her flowers on the counter. His gnarled fingers turned the sign to Closed and he locked the door. Hurrying back to the counter, he winked at Mark.
“Just in time indeed,” Mark muttered under his breath. He scanned the shop, looking for a large bouquet of flowers. Any flowers would do at this point. He was already late to his great-grandma’s birthday party. He picked up a blue ceramic vase with flying pigs on it and held out the arrangement. “Happy birthday, Oma.” He envisioned himself giving her the flowers. She would think that the flying pigs were funny. This was the right one.
He took a step back and bumped into the woman at the counter. She stumbled forward and her elbow knocked over the potted plant she was purchasing. The green leafy vegetation flew end over end until it landed with a thud, cracking the pot, and sprinkling the area with potting soil.
Mark grabbed the woman’s other elbow with his free hand. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Clumsy me.” He eyes traveled from the messy ponytail to the eyes that had been starring in his dreams for years. “Jenny? When did you get back into town?” He swallowed several times and shook his head. “Is it really you?”
She laughed and patted his arm. “It is. And you just smashed Oma’s present from me.”
Mark’s mouth opened and closed several times. She placed a manicure nail under his chin, effectively closing it.
“What?” Mark stammered. “How? Why? When?”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and she laced her fingers between his. “I missed you and came home to you.”
Mark set the flowers on the counter and wrapped his arms around her.
“I missed you too.” Then, he kissed her.