Autumn Crossroad
By Cheryl N. Warner
Chapter One
Four new emails already?
Casey had quickly downloaded her messages at Laptop Lane before running to the gate just prior to takeoff. Now that she was seated on the plane, she could relax and see who had written since she left her apartment. She looked up from her laptop just long enough to accept her Coke and snack from the flight attendant. “Thank you,” she muttered absentmindedly, her attention held captive by one of the sender’s names.
“It can’t be,” she whispered to herself, unmindful of the curious glance by her assigned seating partner.
She stared at the name. Someone must be playing a trick on me. But how could they? And how could they have stolen her ex-fiancé’s email address?
The subject line read, “Sorry to bother you but...” It sure sounded like a Neal introduction, kind of like his “Sorry to ruin your entire life, but I just can’t marry you” speech.
What could he possibly want now, almost two years after dumping me at the rehearsal dinner?
The mere thought of that night caused her face to flush with anger and embarrassment, and she impulsively clicked on her brother’s email to rid her screen of the scarlet letter.
Hey Case,
What’s up? I hope you get settled into your new place fast. I hear L.A. has the hottest chicks and the coolest tattoo parlors in the country. If it’s true, look for me to show up at your doorstep real soon. You’ve only been gone a couple of hours and Dad’s already on my case. I can tell it’s really bugging him that you’re moving so far from Georgia. Now he’s going to have to pay long distance charges if he wants to bark orders at you. I’ll bet you’ll hear from him a lot less. Good for you, but bad for me! I hate to admit it, but I’m going to miss you, too, you workaholic freak.
Stay in touch or else,
Kyle
Casey had no idea what she just read but she smiled wistfully. She’d miss Kyle. She had always been close to her little brother. When her mind wasn’t eroding with curiosity, she’d return to his email and see what he had to say.
Clicking back to her inbox, she checked the addling name under the ‘From’ column. It hadn’t changed. It still looked like her fiancé’s name. But he had no reason to contact her. Why should she give him the time-of-day? Or even the click-of-mouse?
Impetuously, she highlighted the message then hit the ‘Delete’ key. Letting out a cleansing breath, she opened the email from Danielle and scanned it quickly.
Casey,
I can’t believe you’re gone! I miss you already! It still hasn’t sunk in that you’re going to be living in California. Remember our silly pact in college? We were supposed to graduate with honors, find great jobs and great guys, get married, and live next door to each other forever. Well, at least you graduated with honors and found a great job! Maybe you’ll find your great guy out there, too. I hear there are a lot of tall, blonde dudes in L.A., just like you like ’em! After you find yours, get one for me and come back home, okay? Even though you were busy working all the time, at least you were here! Call me soon, okay?
I love you!
Danielle
“Find your great guy out there”. She snickered bitterly and shook her head. A guy is the last thing I need right now.
With a sudden burst of curiosity, Casey clicked over to her delete folder, unconsciously holding her breath as she double-clicked on the perturbing message. Once the email opened, she gaped at the streaming sentences that struck at her like agitated pythons. The word ‘Sorry’ appeared in the first paragraph at least ten times. Why does he feel the need to apologize two years after the fact? She checked the second paragraph. More strange excuses and apologizes, none of it adding up. The third paragraph had to be the charm.
Leaning forward in her seat, she scanned the words quickly, finally landing on the crux of the message. Once she read the one sentence—the pithy sentence—the sentence that explained it all, her hands flew to her mouth. “Nuh-uh!” she said loudly, “He did not!”
Falling back against her seat, she immediately sensed the presence of a sidelong gaze. Dropping her hands and turning toward her neighbor, she felt compelled to explain, as well as to enlist an ally. “Sorry if I disturbed you. It’s an email from my ex-fiancé. He wants his ring back! Can you believe that?”
Wearing an uncomfortable expression, the businessman shifted in his seat and turned the page of his newspaper. “Hmm,” he offered with a shake of the head.
“But he broke it off with me! And etiquette clearly states that if the guy calls off the engagement, the bride-to-be gets to keep the ring. I looked it up!”
“I believe you,” the stranger assured her quietly, flapping his newspaper like a sheet to straighten it.
“Plus, it’s been almost two years! Does he really think I still have his stupid ring?”
The man nodded toward her laptop. “Evidently.”
“Oh, please! Danielle, Courtney, and I enjoyed an awesome cruise to Mexico with the money I got from hocking that rock. Does he actually think I’m so not over him that I’d still be hanging onto it? Please!”
The man scanned the financial page. “Why does he want it back?”
Casey turned back toward her computer. “I don’t know,” she stated inquisitively, skimming the email but only briefly. “And I don’t care! It doesn’t matter because I don’t have it anyway.”
The man nodded. “Are you going to reply?”
“No,” Casey said, crossing her arms then shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe…Would you?”
The gentleman finally looked at her over his reading glasses. “Well, I’m sure he’d love to hear all about that cruise.”
Casey gave him a doubtful frown until the corners of his mouth lifted into a wicked grin. “Ohhhh,” she said, nodding and quickly hitting the reply button. “Thanks! I’m Casey Wells, by the way.”
“Mark Deveroe,” he said, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you. So, Casey, what do you do for a living?”
“Well, I’ve just accepted a position at a PR firm in Los Angeles. I’m moving there from Albany. It’s a little scary, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. How about you? What do you do?”
Just as he started to answer, Casey’s cell phone rang. “I’m sorry, Mark. Excuse me just a moment.”
Taking one look at the number displayed on her handset, she sighed. The phone sounded out two more times before she hit the ‘Ignore’ button. "My dad, the colonel," she said, rolling her eyes.
Mark reopened his newspaper. "Wanna talk about it?"
Casey shook her head. "This is only a four and a half hour flight. That’s not even close to enough time to describe life with a drill sergeant!"
