Lucy felt she was happy and had a lovely family. She was penniless following the divorce. Lucy felt like she had nothing left in life. But everything changed when a vehicle almost struck her. She met a long-lost buddy, and her life changed.
Looking at that family portrait, the laughter seemed to reverberate in my thoughts, teasing me for what I’d lost.
Dusting off the snapshot, I saw their joy—easy, carefree grins, all together and at ease.
I choked back tears as I thought of Harry, my kid, who was gone.
He didn’t return my calls or listen to my tale. My unfaithful husband James convinced him I left and abandoned them.
“Lucy, everything okay?” Miss Kinsley’s words jolted me back to her clean house.
I answered, “Oh—yes, Miss Kinsley,” wiping my tears and smiling slightly.
I’m OK. Just a bit tired.”
She looked at me gently but firmly, bending her head as if evaluating her words.
“Lucy, I know you’ve had a tough time lately,” she said, approaching. “But I think we should talk.”
Words struck me like a stone. Knowing what may happen, my heart raced.
My voice nearly broke as I implored, “Please, Miss Kinsley, I swear I’ll do better. I’ve been sluggish, but I’ll work quicker and be happier. I assure you.”
She gazed at me with sorrowful pity.
It’s more than speed, Lucy. I feel your pain and know you’re trying. But… my kid observes these things, and I need someone to bring some brightness into the home, you understand?
I swallowed, throat dry.
“This job is everything to me, Miss Kinsley. Please… I’ll improve.”
She sighed, touching my shoulder. Her voice became motherly or gentle.
Lucy, sometimes holding on hinders healing. Letting go is painful, but it may open new possibilities. I hope you find pleasure again. I really appreciate what you’ve done.”
I nodded and said, “Thank you,” but every syllable felt like another break in my delicate existence.
Memories of simpler times filled my head at the crossing. I recalled my high school struggles with schoolwork and stupid crushes.
Life looked simple then. But suddenly I felt like I was always carrying a burden.
The sound of a vehicle honking jolted me awake. I felt my pulse race as the car sped toward me across a puddle.
I hesitated, wondering whether to retreat or advance. I sprang forward in a single second, falling in the murky water.
Even though the automobile stopped inches away, I was doused in the cold, nasty pavement water.
The expensive-suited driver pushed open his door and rushed out, his face contorted with rage.
Are you blind? You might have damaged my automobile!” Anger and resentment colored his yell.
I felt embarrassed as I tried to stand. “I—I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my cheeks burning from the chilly dirt seeping through my garments.
He shook his head at me coldly.
“Do you know this car’s value?”
I heard another voice before responding.
Glen, stop.” A tall, well-dressed guy emerged from the rear entrance.
His eyes filled with worry and compassion as he gazed at me. Walking over, he ignored Glen’s protestations.
“Are you hurt?” he inquired softly, looking at me.
His friendly tone made me feel like he cared about me—a stranger, soaked and uncomfortable.
Still astonished, I shook my head.
My voice was weak, but I said, “I think I’m okay.” The man’s presence seemed somehow soothing, like a lifeline on this dreadful day.
“Please,” he murmured, extending his hand, “let me check on you. Join us and we’ll get you warm and dry.”
He made me feel protected, but I didn’t know what to say.
The calm, comforting way he opened the door and assisted me into the rear made me feel valued and less like a burden.
We came up to a massive, magnificent estate that appeared to spread for miles.
It was a location I’d only seen in magazines and never expected to enter.
The guy laughed gently at my astonishment.
“Isn’t it excessive?” He smiled slightly.
“A bit,” I said, attempting to mask my surprise. “But it’s lovely.”
He brought me inside, where everything sparkled.
Polished marble flooring reflected chandelier light.
George gently led me to a large sitting area and handed me a fireside chair.
“Please, make yourself comfortable,” he added, departing and returning with tea.
“I thought you might want something warm.”
I nodded, cupping the cup and enjoying the warmth. It brought some consolation to a stressful day.
A middle-aged guy arrived shortly after. George introduced William, his personal doctor, who gently inspected my injuries.
William gently touched the minor scratches on my hands and arms, smiling reassuringly.
Finally, William remarked, “Nothing serious here.”
“A few scratches, but you’ll be fine.”
I was relieved.
“Thank you, Doctor,” I murmured with appreciation.
I returned to George with the empty teacup.
I should probably leave. “I can’t thank you enough for everything,” I said, shy.
George signaled me to remain with a hand.
“Please, Lucy,” he whispered. “It’s been too long since we met. Stay longer.”
I was shocked.
“Wait… You know my name? My thoughts raced as I asked.
George smiled wider and leaned back, his eyes unwavering. “Remember me?” he said, his tone optimistic and warm.
Squinting, I examined his face. His eyes still had the glint I remembered.
“Wait… George? George from high school?”
He smiled and laughed.
“One and only. Lucy, you’re still attractive after twenty-eight years.
My cheeks flushed as I laughed.
Oh, stop! I can’t believe you. Over time, where did life lead you?
We relaxed with old pals, talking about high school and our hilarious experiences.
George seemed to remember everything—how I drew on his notebook, how we sneaked out to the restaurant after school, even when we nearly skipped class.
We chuckled about the wonderful moments, forgetting the serious problems in life.
Finally, he stared at me earnestly and leaned forward.
How is life treating you? He asked softly.
I hesitated, but his compassion made honesty simple. I took a big breath and informed him about my divorce, my son’s silence, and my job loss that day.
I said, “It’s been… tough,” staring down at my hands. “Everything I thought had just slipped away.”
George grabbed my hand with warm, steady fingers.
Lucy, I’m sorry. I wish your situation was different. That must have been hard.”
Though my eyes hurt, I shrugged.
I sometimes wish things had gone differently. The unpredictable nature of life might be unexpected.
George’s face softened considerably. He gazed down attentively before looking up.
Our final night after prom? He said, “I told you I loved you and you told me it wouldn’t work because we’d be moving to different cities.”
The recollection returned with a bittersweet pain. “I remember,” I muttered, glancing away.
“I’ve pondered that night often. Thinking about what if I had remained.
His voice was calm yet optimistic as he nodded.
Lucy, we cannot alter the past. Now we have. I’m sitting with you after all these years. That may imply something.”
I glanced at him and felt optimism for the first time in ages.
“Maybe it does,” I said, smiling slightly.
Our old recollections filled the quiet as we sat there. George softly gripped my hand, breaking the quiet.
He murmured quietly, “We can’t go back and change those years, Lucy.
But we’re here. Maybe we can resume?”
Almost used to laughter, I laughed.
“After all these years, are you asking me out?”
“Maybe I am,” he said, smiling and optimistic.
How about dinner? Nothing flashy. Two longtime pals reuniting.”
The concept gave me a nice feeling seldom felt.
“I’d like that,” I responded. “But only if you promise not to run me over again.”
He chuckled.
“Deal. No more near-misses.”
I felt lost a day before, but sitting here with George, I had a glimpse of my life I thought was lost forever.
I never thought an accident could be so good. Life surprised us, particularly when we least anticipated it.