It Happened on Maple Street

Tim picked up the card for the hundredth time. He’d put it in the box with the other cards and letters she’d sent him. Right next to the pink yarn he’d taken off his class ring. And the pair of glass-horse earrings she’d left in his bedroom one night.

I miss you. Tara had written, nine months after she’d devastated his life.

What did that mean? She missed him?

That she wanted to catch up for old times’ sake?

That she cared?

That she wanted to get back together?

He’d met someone. A teacher. Emily wasn’t Tara. But she was nice. And funny. Most important, she told Tim all the time how much she cared about him.

He looked back at the card, wondering what to do. He couldn’t let his guard down, that was for sure.

He thought about writing her back. And then changed his mind.

But he didn’t stop thinking about her. A couple of days after Christmas, when he figured Tara would be sure to be home on break from her fancy Alabama college, and with Emily’s blessing, he drove to Huber Heights.

He had to see Tara. To find out what that card had meant.

He gave her no warning. And no chance to tell him not to come.

She’d said she missed him. Elation at the thought made him soar. Not that Emily knew that part.

Emily also didn’t know that he’d get back together with Tara in a heartbeat if Tara wanted that.

But what if Tara didn’t want to get back together with him?

And what about Emily? She was from Eaton. Was part of his world. They had a good time together. Cared for each other.

Tara must have seen him pull up. She was at the front door when he got there.

“Hey!” she said, standing there staring at him.

“What’s going on?”

Her mouth was open. She looked kind of blank. He couldn’t tell if it was a good blank or a bad blank.

“Are you going to invite me in?”

“Oh,” she stepped back. “Sorry, come on in.”

He did. She stood there, watching him until he felt like a bug under a microscope. And then she smiled. A huge smile that ripped at him.

She’d taken that smile away from him. Out of his life.

“It’s really good to see you.”

“Yeah, I know. I still look good.” He was kind of proud of the smartass remark. And a bit sad about it, too. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Okay. I like school. How about you?”

“I met someone,” he said, putting it right out there. “I’m not sure about it yet, but it might turn into something.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Yeah.”