Get your own Free HomepageRyan Thompson came into the café, as he always did, at 6:25 in the morning. He loved being here this early, just as the sun was beginning to rise, and the world was waking up to hurriedly scuttle off to their humdrum lives and jobs that were so meaningless. He sat down at the counter and without asking the waitress brought him a coffee and a plate of eggs. "Thanks Ally," he smiled at her. She didn't respond. It had been a long night and the last thing she needed was for Ryan to start one of his long involved conversations with her.
Ryan took a long sip of his coffee and absent-mindedly jotted something down in a notebook he had brought with him. The café was empty except for a young couple in a booth and a scruffy looking old man at the other end of the counter. The bell on the door jangled, and he casually turned his head to see who had come in.
A beautiful young woman slowly entered looking mildly confused. Her pale face and the long flowing white dress she wore accented her long dark hair. She gazed apprehensively around the café, but noticing Ryan, she relaxed somewhat and hesitantly approached him. He stood up and gaped, for once at a loss for words. "Marcie?" he finally asked in wonder. "Is that really you?"
She smiled at him and nodded. "How are you Ryan?"
"I…I'm fine," he stammered still in shock. "How are you? I mean… wow I haven't seen you in so long… I can't believe this… what are you doing here?"
"I…um… she began to look perplexed again. "I'm in town…for the week…business… um… do you know what time it is?"
"There's a clock on the wall back there… It's 6:30. Don't tell me you have to be somewhere!"
"I do actually… I think…"
"Oh Marcie, you can't. I mean I haven't seen you in almost 10 years and then you walk in here like this… There's so much to talk about! What have you been doing all this time?"
"Oh," she smiled slightly uneasily, "Pretty much the same thing I guess… not much changes you know…"
"Well you look great Marcie, really great. You've barely aged a day. Hehe, why you probably still run 5 miles every morning… Say, you must be starving. Let me buy you some pancakes."
She shyly returned his grin, "Thanks Ryan. I am kind of hungry."
"Good, good. Abby! Can you get my friend here some pancakes please? Wow, I still cannot get over seeing you again. You will not believe what's happened to me since you left…"
Marcie glanced at the clock apprehensively but Ryan did not seem to notice.
"Well… you remember that novel I was working on when you left? Well I got it published 6 years ago and, you know me, I used the money to finally take that trip to Europe. And of course while I was over there I couldn't help but stop to see Mark Swanson… Do you remember Mark? No I don't suppose you do, well Mark's living in France and while I was there he introduced me to this magazine editor he knows and…" Ryan continued to talk as the waitress brought Marcie her pancakes and a sympathetic look. "He gets like this a lot. It's best just to ignore him," she smiled.
"Abby! I'll have you know I haven't talked to this woman in 10 years! You can hardly expect me to chat about the weather!"
"No," shot back the waitress with another understanding look at Marcie, "but you could perhaps let her get a word in edgewise."
"Oh," said Ryan slowly, "I'm sorry Marcie, did you want to say something?"
"N-No…" she smiled weakly. Then, looking at the clock, "Its just that I think I have to be somewhere…I think…"
"Oh! Not yet! At least let me tell you about Kenya…"
Marcie nodded slowly. Ryan started again and the waitress moved off. He spent the next twenty minutes telling her all about his life, where he'd been, whom he'd met. Marcie tried to listen, but she was having trouble concentrating. She felt that there was something she had forgotten, something important… And then there was the stress of eating with this man, the father of her son. Should she tell him? She probably should, but wouldn't it just complicate matters? Robbie didn't need another parent in his life, and how was she to know if Ryan would even make a good father… But still… didn't he have the right to know?"
"Ryan?" she suddenly asked in the middle of one of his stories.
"Yes?" he asked somewhat surprised.
"There's something I need to tell you… I think…."
"Sure Marcie, what is it? You must think I'm an awful windbag going on like this without letting you talk. Hehe, I guess I just like the sound of my own voice. You know spending all that time in foreign countries, I often didn't speak the languages and couldn't talk to anyone." He chuckled. "So when I got back here to the states I was just so happy to hear everyone speaking English that I couldn't help joining in." He laughed again. "Oh, I'm sorry. What were you going to say?"
"Um… nothing… it's not important." Marcie glanced at the clock again. It was almost 7:00. The anxiety she was feeling was growing unbearable. "Ryan, I have to go," she said, standing up. "But it was really nice seeing you again… and we should talk again sometime…" She rushed out the door leaving a half-eaten pancake and a very astonished man.
Ryan stood up as well, still staring at the door Marcie had just rushed out of.
"Girlfriend left?" questioned Abby.
He turned to respond, then realizing he hadn't even gotten Marcie's phone number, he ran out the door after her.
"Don't suppose you'd like to pay for your food?" Abby called after him, but she knew it was no good. "Oh well," she thought, "shift's over in 2 minutes…"
Even as Ryan stepped outside he heard the screeching tires of the truck, saw the flash of a white dress and dark hair and then heard people screaming.
"Marcie!" he cried running towards her. The driver jumped out of the truck looking terrified. "She came out of nowhere! Just stepped into the street!"
"Call 911!" Ryan yelled at him. The driver quickly ran to do so.
Marcie was very badly hurt and covered in blood, but she was still conscious.
"Marcie," said Ryan as he held her, beginning to cry. "how can this be happening? After I just found you again?"
"Shhh," whispered Marcie weakly, "I have to tell you… you have a son…"
"What?" asked Ryan, not comprehending.
"His name is Robbie… call my Uncle… Peter Evans… he lives in Whittier…Nebraska…Tell Robbie… I love him…" She could say no more… somewhere a clock began striking the hour, and she gently squeezed Ryan's hand as she finally closed her eyes and ascended again into the light.
Less that a year later, Ryan had custody of his 8 year old son Robbie. He had called Marcie's uncle immediately after the ambulance had taken her away, and was told that Marcie had been dead for five years. Not believing it, he called the hospital but they no record of an automobile accident that day. In fact Ryan could not even locate the driver of the truck. Eventually he stopped trying to explain what had happened to himself. He simply could not. However, he decided when Robbie was a little older he would tell him about it, and give him Marcie's message. For now, it was enough to live day by day, to try to relate to this son he barely know who was now a part of life. But every day they grew closer and happier, and began to love each other more. And Marcie? She was ashamed that she wouldn't have told Ryan the truth on her own, but she was remarkably grateful for the miraculous accident. "I thought I wasn't supposed to know it was my last chance…" she questioned. "Well… you weren't… but everyone deserves a helping hand now and then, and Robbie prayed for a father. You can rest now Marcie, rest in peace."
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