Short Stories

Reservations

The woman checked the clock again and suppressed a sigh. It wasn't like Luke to be late, but he did have his moments. She rolled her eyes, thinking that he had probably been fussing over his outfit. Her eyes flicked over to the evening news where there was a new story flashing in red.

She sat at the edge of the couch, careful to smooth down her dress first, and watched the story unfold. There was a collision between a police car and an unnamed citizen. They reported that the police officer was in critical condition and that the citizen had died on impact. The news camera showed a live picture of the intersection, one not too far from the woman's house. A black car was smashed against a police cruiser.

Luke drives a black car, was all she could think. Is that his car? Is that where he is? She pulled her phone out of her handbag: no missed alerts.

There was a sharp knocking at the door just as she was about to call him in panic. She heard the cool air rushing through the open door before it was pressed shut, and Luke walked into view. Color filled his cheeks and he rubbed his gloved hands together. His dress shirt was covered with a black jacket. She was about to reprimand him for being late when he planted a kiss on her cheek at the corner of her lips.

"Sorry, there was an accident on the way," he explained and pointed to the T.V. "Happened right in front of me."

"I'm glad you're okay. I thought it was you for a second. It looked like your car," she said, "and you were late."

Luke simply ignored her last remark. "Did you want to stay in tonight? The roads are bad."

Her lips pulled down. "We have reservations."

"I know."

"It took us two months to get those, Luke."

"I know."

"It was a hundred dollars. I bought new shoes, I've just spent the last hour doing my hair-" Luke cut her off with a sigh, and she let out a frustrated groan. They were going to dinner whether he wanted to or not.

She turned away and started to the door to get in his car. Just as she neared the door, he called after her.

"Wait! They're releasing the name of the victim in the crash," he said, desperation almost leaking through his voice.

A quick glance out the window showed her that there was no car in the driveway.

Big, bold red letters on the T.V. read LUKE JACOBSON.

Her fiancé was nowhere in sight.