seventy-six.

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FEBRUARY, 1994, SEATTLE, WA

              THE ONLY DOWNFALL of working the night shift at the hospital for Lindy was the unfortunate circumstance that occurred every time she was able to clock out and leave.

She was always left with a full day available to her and nothing to do with it.

As noontime came around, Lindy pulled her car into her apartment complex, trying to brainstorm a diagram of fun-filled ideas on how she could spend the rest of her day. Nothing splendid stood out, especially when all Lindy could focus on was her own stress.

Sighing, she turned her car off and gathered her things as she usually did, slinging bags over her shoulders and tromping up to her apartment stairs.

Lindy felt hyper-aware of the ring Kurt had given, which she had taken to carrying around in her purse. She knew carrying it around with her was stupid — the ring was clearly safer in her bedroom, resting on her nightstand where it could neither disappear or be stolen, unless she suffered a robbery.

It felt wrong though, leaving the beautiful ring to collect dust by her bed. She stood by her adamant stance of not wearing it until Kurt was officially divorced, but at the same time, keeping it close by her was a small reminder that she was his and he was hers, even if they could not outwardly show their love.

No one knew yet about Kurt's proposal. Lindy had come close several times to revealing the secret to Trae and Beth, but whether it was laziness or fear stopping her, she had ended up keeping her mouth pressed into a thin line every time she considered telling them.

It doesn't make sense to let them know, Lindy reprimanded herself as she began the slow climb up the stairs. Why let Trae and Beth know about the wonderful news when there would be no wedding, at least not any time soon? They would have looked at her like she was crazy, partially accepting the proposal of a married man. It made sense to no one except her. 

God. She had to stop stressing. It was starting to show in her eyes and physically across her body. Beth had just finished remarking on her rail-thin arms and legs that morning.

Lindy had her head down as she approached her front door, fiddling with her keys and locating the skinny silver one assigned to her lock. Once she found it, she would have let herself inside, but a man in a puffer coat was blocking the entrance.

Lindy froze, not moving another inch forward as she registered the man's presence standing directly in front of her apartment. She briefed herself through her options, wondering if the man intended to rob her. She could either fight him — keys jutting out between her knuckles, just like Trae had taught her — or she could run away.

"Lindy Clayton?" the man asked, looking relived to see her.

Lindy took a cautious step backwards. "Who are you?" she demanded. It would have to be option one, then. She was already sliding her keys into the spaces between her fingers.

"I'm supposed to be driving you today," the man explained kindly.

"Driving me?" Lindy said suspiciously. She had most definitely not ordered a driver. In fact, she couldn't even afford to have a driver.

"Yes m'am. I was sent by Kurt to drive you to the airport."

Lindy lowered her key-laden hand but remained apprehensive. Perhaps someone had sent the man to her apartment as a mean joke — someone who obviously would have known that she and Kurt were together.

Or maybe it was Kurt, trying to tease her even from thousands of miles away. It didn't seem like his taste in humor, but it very well could have been. The coincidence of a man standing on her doorstep who knew their secrets was hard to believe. 

IN THE SUN ↝ kurt cobainWhere stories live. Discover now