Episode 89: Eighteen WheelerShe took far more care than usual tucking her car keys inside her Coach handbag. She raised her hand to knock and then returned it to the dark warmth inside her purse. Her fingers touched the small box, she hadn’t had time to open it and now here she was toting it around where anyone could find it. Sometimes she thought it would be easier.
She took a seat on the cracked concrete step, yanked at the ribbon and opened the lid.
"No special occasion, just hope for a good day." The white card inside read; and nestled in the bed of cotton lay a small shamrock pin made of emeralds. She stared at it, happy that he wasn’t there to see the awe on her face. She closed the box burying it at the bottom of her purse beneath her wallet, a checkbook, and a flat hairbrush.
Katherine approached the door once again; her manicured fingertips pressing on a strip of peeling paint and then watched as it curled back down. She wound up once more and this time made contact, nothing, she knocked again and nothing. She glanced around; the street was empty save for an old woman walking a puppy.
She decided to pound on the door, if she was going to do this thing she might as well do it all the way. It opened then though it wasn’t like magic; it was her little girl. Her lost little girl looking like she’d been run over by a truck.
Katherine’s hand went plaintively to her mouth to cover the gasp. Then she reached out her arms to Justine tentatively at first, then squeezing her tight. "Let’s get inside and fix your hair up, did I tell you how pretty it looks short like that? Maybe we’ll give it a little curl; it looked so lovely with a little curl in it at your coming out party,"