“Thanks for driving me home,” I say, and he turns the radio down to a gentle hum of easy rock as we exit the highway.
“Not a problem.” He smiles at me before making a sharp turn.
That’s a one-last-effort-to-hook-up smile.
Does he think I’ll be asking him in? I don’t want to lead him on. Funny, I feel like it’s what he did to me the summer before college. I want to know what really happened when he broke things off. I want to know how he really felt.
“You feel like having a drink?” he asks as he pulls into my neighbourhood.
“Taylor.” I turn to him, and he raises his brow at my tone. “What happened between us that summer?”
“What do you mean?” he asks with a little grin.
“Why did you end things?”
“Awh, Lyn. Come on. You were going off to school. We weren’t gonna do a long-distance thing. We weren’t that serious.”
“That’s not how I remember it,” I mutter, but he’s telling me his truth and I shouldn’t deny him his feelings. “I felt like we were just starting something good. I felt like you weren’t as into it as I was.”
“Well, I’m sorry you felt like that. You were going away, and I was staying in town. You were moving on to better things. It was just better we ended it when we did, you know?”
I nod. He’s probably right.
“But I’m glad we’ve reconnected,” he says. “I still thought about you sometimes.”
“Me, too,” I whisper as he turns onto my street.
“Maybe it was meant to be like that. Maybe we were meant to reconnect.”
His headlights shine down the street, illuminating a black vehicle close to my house. Is it back? I squint to see as Taylor keeps talking.
The black car with tinted windows is parked out front of the Hilden’s.
“Slow down, please,” I whisper and pull my phone from my bag. I tap the camera option to take a picture of the plate.
“Okay, sorry, I just thought after the other night—”
“The car. Stop it here!”
He brakes and we jerk forward a bit, my chest tight against the seatbelt.
“You okay?” Panic fills his voice.
I snap a picture of the license plate. “Can you do a lap of the block for me?” I check the picture and it’s a little blurry, but I can make out the letters and numbers if I zoom in.
“Okay… do you want to tell me what’s going on with that car?”
“It’s been hanging around here, and I want to know who it is. I’m calling the police. I don’t want to keep being intimidated.”
“They’re giving you trouble?” he asks. “I’ll get out right now and confront them.”
“No, please. Just drive, Taylor.”
His chest heaves and he drives forward, turning the corner to the next street as I press the phone to my ear. The operator answers. “Hi, I’m Lynda McGowan.” I give my address and take a deep breath. “There’s a car out front of the house, and it’s been following me, and I want to know if I could get some help?”
“We can send someone out to check. Ma’am, have they done anything to threaten you? Do you feel unsafe?”
“Yes.” My body shakes as a reaction to my admission. “They keep showing up. My neighbour saw them the other night.”
“Please stay inside and an officer is on their way.”
“I’m just in a car with a friend right now, but we drove past.”
“Okay, if you could be there when the officer arrives to speak with them, they’ll make sure whoever it is maintains a distance, and help you figure out this situation.”
“Thank you.” I finish the call and hang up, clutching my phone in my shaky hand as Taylor makes a turn down my road again. “I actually saw the car for the first time when I left your place.”
“You should have waited inside until your ride came.” He shakes his head as we approach the house and the car. He slows down, leaning toward his window, but the tinted windows offer no view of the inside, not even an outline of a person. “I’ll go around one more time and then we’ll stop and wait for the police.”
“Thank you.” I check my phone. Just after midnight. “I’m supposed to pick up my dog from the neighbour’s place. I just want to see her.”
“For sure. Did you want me to stay with you or?”
I crane my neck back and turn to him. I hadn’t even thought it was a question that his support and presence were needed.
He huffs and scratches his head. “I just—have a thing with cops—”
“As soon as they get here, you can leave.” I turn away from him and look out my window, staring at all the houses in the neighbourhood. He grips and releases the steering wheel but doesn’t say anything as we turn onto my street again and a flash of nausea washes over me.
The police car is there, but the black car isn’t. Did the officer scare them off or did he already finish speaking with him?
Taylor stops the car in front of the officer and I step out. “Thanks for the ride,” I mutter, yanking my wedding gown out, and slam the door behind me. Each step squeezes my feet in the wedges further, sending sharp aching pains through both my feet as I walk around the back of Taylor’s car to the officer, clutching my bag.
“Lynda McGowan?” the officer asks. “That’s just a costume, right?”
His eyes are wide, staring at my chest where the fake blood was poured as Taylor drives away. “Oh, yes, I’m sorry. It’s all fake.”
He nods and watches Taylor drive off before returning his attention to me. “I’m Officer Corden. Doesn’t look like the car’s here anymore.”
“It left before you got here, then.” I tap my phone and tap my picture, a little hazy, but I turn it to him, showing him the plate.
“Let me write that down.” He grabs a pen and
