Unforgiven(74)

I stand in the back of the small room, leaning against the wall. I’m still riding solo, and totally okay with that. My beat is typically quiet, although, at times, a partner to talk to might make the shift go by faster. Landon quietly enters the room and leans against the back wall next to me.
“What’s up, man?” he whispers, but watches the sergeant giving his updates.
“Not much. Back to the grind.”
“I know. I can’t believe you’re not taking a few more days off just to relax.”
“Nah, no need to.”
“Hey, Friday poker at my house. You in?”
“Ah, I can’t. I just told Melissa I’d go to the movies with her,” I whisper. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and I shrug. “Don’t ask. She can’t hike on Sunday, so she invited me to the movies.”
“Next week, then?”
“Deal.”
“Take care, man.”
“You too.” He pushes himself off the wall and slides out the side door. My first shift back is actually busy—a welcome change from the norm. I find myself across the street from the theater Melissa wants to go to Friday night where a new Starbucks has recently opened. It’s big and bright and full of tables and unique work spaces. It’s bustling with people for ten o’clock on a Thursday evening. As I wait for my order, I take in the enormity of the place. Tables ranging in all different sizes from small, two-person tables, all the way to larger family-style tables that hold up to twelve people. Each table has power outlets so people can work and access the wi-fi all while getting their caffeine fix.
It’s there, while waiting for my coffee, that I see her, tucked away at a small table in the corner, almost hidden from view. Her back is pressed up against an exposed brick wall and she rests her chin in her hand, staring out the window. A laptop is open in front of her, but she’s not working. She’s lost in her thoughts. She looks so different from when I last saw her. Her face has filled back out, and her normally wavy hair is straight today. Her lips are pursed as she stares out the glass window and I’d give anything to sit down and talk to her, to know what she’s thinking.
“Sir.”
I notice a large bottle of water and a paperback book sitting next to her laptop.
“Sir?” the young male voice says louder.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, pulling my attention back to the young man behind the counter.
“Here’s your drink,” he says, sliding the cup of iced coffee across the counter at me. I pull out my wallet and a ten-dollar bill.
“See that girl back in the corner? The blonde in the navy tank top with the yellow scarf?”
“Yeah, she’d be hard to miss,” he says. I give him a snide look. Even the teen boys notice Lindsay’s beauty.
“Can you make her a grande skinny vanilla latte, no foam, extra hot?”
“Yeah, I’d be glad to.”
“Keep the change. Oh, and if she asks, don’t tell her it was me. Just tell her someone was thinking of her.”
“You got it.”
I weave through the display cases that hold glass coffee mugs and bags of coffee beans and push through the glass doors. I stand out on the street next to my squad car, leaning against the hood and just watch her through the window. Her blue eyes that were dull the last time I saw her are bright again. The dark circles under her eyes are gone and her cheeks are fuller. She’s still thin, but she looks good. My heart still races just looking at her.
The boy from behind the counter saunters up, wearing his green apron and a big smile on his face. She turns her head to look at him and smiles. Words are exchanged and she accepts the paper cup of coffee. I see her turn the cup to see what it is that’s been given to her and she jumps up from the table, craning her neck as she looks around the coffee shop.
A smile pulls at my lips when I figure she must know it’s me. I can’t imagine anyone else knowing her coffee order. My radio alerts me to a call, and I push myself off the hood of my car and slide into the driver’s seat. I respond to dispatch, but before I leave, taking one last look at Lindsay, who is still standing next to her table and staring at the cup of coffee in her hand—a smile on her face.




 
 
One of my new favorite things to do is sit on the back patio of Landon and Reagan’s house every morning with a giant mug of coffee and watch the sun come up. It peeks just over the horizon and signals a new day; its ascent into the sky every morning marks another day to learn and love and live. I’ve been home from treatment for over a month and spend the days reconnecting with my family and helping Reagan with the wedding tasks.