Sixty: A Crime Reporter's Story by Yvette Walker

Author:Yvette Walker [Walker, Yvette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“So,” he said between bites of chocolate cheesecake, “Linda Radcliffe. You really are a sight for sore eyes.”

She smiled. “Yeah, your eyes must really be sore right about now to say that.”

He smiled back. “Tell me what’s been going on in your life for the last 20 years.”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that, and a lot of the other.” They laughed. “And you, again eyeing his gold band, “I see you got into something.”

“Yes, I did. It resulted in two beautiful kids, if not the best marriage.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and showed her the family photo.

She took it from him, their fingers touching almost imperceptibly. She examined the photo. There he was. His ex-wife was in the photo as well, but she supposed that he didn’t want to do the tacky thing and cut her out. That probably meant they were on speaking terms, at least.

It couldn’t have been that old because the children looked to be teenagers, and Mark looked about the same. Sure, he had a slight paunch and a little gray at the temples. But who was she to talk? A bottle of dye was all that kept her between her youthful dark brown and a haggard-looking head of gray hair. He really hadn’t changed much at all since the last time they spoke. It had been the day she was packing for the airport.

That morning was a bit uncomfortable. It was her fault. She hadn’t told him she was leaving. She didn’t know how to. After the mess she made of things, throwing herself at him a few weeks before, and him turning down her advances.

She had been embarrassed and didn’t want to see him. But he deserved to hear it from her, at least. She called and asked him to come by.

To her, it didn’t matter that she waited until the last possible moment.

To him, it had been a great insult. How dare she let him walk in on her packing, about to get out of Elmar, out of his life.

But she didn’t know these things, because he never had told her. Instead, he wished her well, kissed her cheek, and walked out the door. He didn’t offer to drive her to the airport.

And now, not only had he agreed to meet with her, he had agreed to undertake this crazy adventure. She didn’t understand him at all, she decided.

“Mark, your girls are beautiful. They look just like you,” she said, and she meant it. “How old are they?”

“16, and 14,” he replied.

She began figuring in her head: “that meant he got married and started having kids at least 17 years ago, maybe earlier.” And then she chastised herself: “why do you care what he did and when?”

“Tell me, Mark, when did you get divorced?” She was curious, one, because she had been divorced for three years, and two, because she was nosy, at least when it came to him. “Sorry if I am prying, but I am divorced, too, and I’m always interested in why couples can’t stay together.

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