“You know what’s weird?” She asked.
“What’s that?”
She paused in her walk. “Being back here. Theother times I’ve visited, I don’t think I had the chance to take itall in. Delta Heights looks the same, but different somehow.”
Lance smiled. “It hasn’t changed much.”
“You still love it here?”
He stared at her. “It is home, right?”
She bobbed her head. “Agreed.”
Once they walked through the front door ofthe diner, she spotted several fruits and meringue pies displayedin glass domes. Metal napkin holders sat on each table along withsalt and pepper shakers and a bottle of ketchup. A long counterwith stools spaced along it seated a few customers.
“Want a booth?” Chantelle asked.
Lance pointed to an empty one in the corner.“Sure. Haven’t eaten here in a while.”
She settled into the cushioned seat. “Why’sthat? This was the spot back in high school.”
“The key word being high school.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips quirkedinto a smile. “Have you brought Andrea here yet?”
“She’s never been to Delta Heights.”
Chantelle’s mouth dropped open. “Andreahasn’t been to your hometown?”
“Is this off the record?”
She tilted her head to the side. “I’m not allbusiness.”
“No, she hasn’t been here.”
Chantelle couldn’t help but wonder why? Thewoman he was pledging his life to didn’t know where he came from.If this was his home, why didn’t she want to share it with him?Chantelle didn’t want to pry, but leaned in closer. “So… her firsttime coming will be the wedding?”
“She’s not into small towns. She’s a citygirl.”
“Nothing wrong with that. I live inChicago.”
“But you know where your heart is.”
She swallowed. “I don’t understand why shehasn’t been here. She doesn’t come to see you?”
“I’m traveling anyway, so I fly out to seeher when I can.” He picked up the laminated menu.
Chantelle did the same. She read the optionsfor meatloaf, burgers and fries, grilled cheese, and patty melts.Cutlery clinked in the background along with the clatter of changehitting the tables. She inhaled fragrant coffee and meatgrilling.
“What’ll it be?” The waitress asked, placingglasses of water on the table.
Chantelle lifted her chin, only to spot anold friend. “Mildred?”
“Chantelle Woods.” Mildred put her hands onher hips. “As I live and breathe, what are you doing back here sosoon?” The corners of her eyes crinkled. Her ivory skin glowed andshe pulled her brunette hair back into a messy bun.
“I’m here for a story,” she said.
“I hear you’re a famous reporter now.”Mildred’s sea-blue eyes twinkled.
“The Wedding Report.”
“Well, the only person I know getting marriedin town is…” Mildred stopped mid-sentence and turned to face Lance.“Lance Taylor.” Her eyes diverted between the two of them. Shecleared her throat, taking up her notepad and pen in her hand oncemore. “What can I get you two?”
“I’ll have the cheeseburger and fries,”Chantelle said.
“I’ll have the same.” Lance sipped his glassof water.
“Coming right up. Good to see you,Chantelle.” Mildred took their menus and walked away.
“Awkward.” Lance rested his forearms on thetable.
Chantelle didn’t blame Mildred’s response.The history between her and Lance? No secret. For those who knew,they sympathized with the young couple. Some even said they weretwo kids trying to right their wrongs.
Chantelle recalled her first Sunday in churchafter the... incident. Pastor Franklin and the community church hadembraced her, sending her off to college with a care basket. Evensome women in the women’s group sent cards and letters to encourageher.
As she sat across from Lance, who scrolled onhis phone, she couldn’t help but remember their mistakes. Herparents had been right. What did they know about love back then?Her mouth twisted into a grin, recalling how Lance would sing toher what he called their song, “Young Love” by Chris Brown.
Chantelle had believed him. He had told herit was them against the world, but that was the calm before thestorm. Life had trampled them as ruthlessly as the hoof of a horsetrampled a rose.
She played with the bracelet on her wrist.“It doesn’t have to be.”
Lance raised his head from his phone. “Soprofiling your ex’s wedding doesn’t bother you?”
She licked her lips. “No.” Liar.
He gave a half smile. “I’m glad.” He ran ahand down his face. Setting his phone to the side, he focused onher. “So what’s up with you?”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “How’s Chicago? Any friends?How’s work outside of the story you’re writing about me?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “What do youwant to know?”
“How come I haven’t talked to you in tenyears?”
She sat back in her seat. “I would come hometo visit family, Lance. You were off at school or traveling forwork. It’s not as if I haven’t been here.”
“For ten years? Not one phone call.” Hefrowned.
“It’s not like I heard from you either.”
“I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck.“I’m just as guilty.”
“What would we have said to each other,anyway? There was... nothing to talk about, I thought.”
He didn’t respond. Did he agree?
Moving on, Chantelle answered his question.“Work’s good though. I’ve come up as a reporter.”
Lance took another sip from his chilled glassof water. “I see, but why weddings? I thought you’d beinternational by now, reporting on more... serious issues in theworld or owning your own newspaper.”
He thought she was that good? If only hercolleagues thought so. “I like weddings.” That would suffice fornow.
Lance’s nose wrinkled. “That’s it?”
“I enjoy writing and I want more serioustoned stories, but I enjoy showcasing true love. It inspires thereaders. What about you? Still happy at your dad’s law firm?”
“It’s work,” he said, and turned hisattention to the large window.
Chantelle poked her tongue into her cheek andinhaled a deep breath. “Do you still want to be there?”
His gaze diverted back to her. “For now,Chantelle, it works for me.”
She sat back in her seat. “Okay, I won’t askanymore.”
He sighed. “I don’t mind you asking, it’sjust been…”
“A long time since we talked.”
He bobbed his head. “I don’t know how to openup like you do. That was always your strong point. You know how tomake people comfortable. You talk as if no time has passed. Asif…”
“If what?”
He rubbed his forehead. “Never mind.”
Chantelle reached to pull a napkin from theoverstuffed holder, but she ended up ripping it. Lancechuckled.
“You could have helped,”
