Three Weeks [COMPLETED]

Epilogue

Edison trudged across the parking lot. Every muscle in his body ached from that afternoon's football practice, and he felt ready to fall asleep right there on the asphalt, but he couldn't go home. Not yet.

He paused when he reached the glass door to Al's, the sight of the diner, the booths and neon signs glowing in the night, gave him energy to pull the door open and step inside.

Bluesy music played from the jukebox, matching the chilly fall weather that had settled over Lighthouse Point. It was the only type of music that was ever playing at Al's these days, as if the eighties pop songs only belonged to summer.

The greasy sweet air smelled like a good memory, adding to the small amount of energy that was keeping him upright. He managed a smile for Wanda on his way to the corner booth. He could hear clanging from Roger in the kitchen, and knew he would be working on his next grand masterpiece, but he didn't call out. He liked claiming his first few minutes in the diner for himself.

He winced as he sat in the back booth and sank into the seat, resting his head against the back. Sitting didn't provide much relief for his pained muscles, but he didn't really mind. The pain was hard-won and tangible proof that he was working toward his goal.

He closed his eyes because it was always the easiest way to remember her: bright smile, mischievous eyes, bell-like laugh.

With his eyes closed, he could imagine she was just across the table from him, bouncing with energy even when seated. If she was still alive, she would've called to Roger the first moment they stepped into the diner and asked about Diana.

She would have searched the menu even though her order would not be found there, but in Roger's great imagination. She would have wanted to know all about practice, about the touchdowns he had made, and the scouts coming to the Homecoming Game. She would have listened with her excited intensity, ready to marvel at anything he told her.

She would probably have made some joke about cheering for Drew, all the while flashing him the smile that told him she was his.

After that, there were so many possibilities of what could have happened, his imagination started to breakdown. Would she and her parents have stayed in Lighthouse Point? If she was still in Lighthouse Point, would she still be with him?

Even as his brain conjured up the last question, he knew it was a stupid one. There wasn't any doubt that she would be across the booth from him, prattling on about some outlandish story, filling the space with her bright personality.

Like a long established ritual, his hand went to his pocket and pulled out a few pieces of well-worn paper. A small smile spread across his face as he unfolded the letter. He had long ago memorized the words on the pages, but he still opened it. The handwriting was as distinct and bright as the person who had written it, and it made her voice easier to hear in his head.

He smiled at the intro and began to read.

My dearest fellow,

I always said, that if ever I met a chap who looks as spectacular in argyle as I do, and has a true appreciation of the finer things in life, like waffles and adventures, that I should never let him out of my life. And I believe I have found that person in you.

He could hear her voice as clearly as if she was sitting across from him. She would use the silly posh accent she always put on, that always held a hint of humor.

In the short time I have had the good fortune of knowing you, I have found you to be charming, funny, sincere, extremely hot, and overall, a jolly good person to be around. You have far exceeded my expectations and I must say, that is a first.