The Prince of the News
38
A weekend visit,
a race, a newspaper date—
he surprises me.
I thought I would have broken down right there on the sidewalk, but I was numb.
You did the right thing, Adelaide.
Later that night, the tears came. Every night after the coffee shop phone call, I cried myself to sleep. This time, I didn’t turn elsewhere for relief. I let myself feel the feelings. But the next morning, I got up and put one foot in front of the other.
Life was continuing, minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day.
Before I was aware of it, two weeks had passed. It was time for Cynthia to visit and run her first race.
The morning of the Fourth, I dropped Tom and Cynthia off at the race corrals. As I did, I promised to see them at the starting line, the halfway point, and at the finish line. I hugged Cynthia but didn’t squeeze. She looked like she was about to throw up. I wished them both luck and set out to find a parking spot. I found one near the finish line, which also doubled as the starting line.
I took my place in the crowd of onlookers, sipping my latte and waiting for the race to begin. My thoughts turned to Brenn, as they so often did these days. I hadn’t heard a peep from him. I shouldn’t have, but a part of me had hoped I would. A part of me had hoped that he would show up in some grand gesture and declare he felt the same way. But…
“So, who are you looking for?” the tall, white-blond man next to me asked.
“My friend, it’s her first race.”
“Oh, so not a boyfriend.”
Oh, don’t I wish… I shook my head to clear the images of Brenn. “Nope, don’t have one of those.”
“I’m Nate. Nate Whitehouse.” He offered his pale hand, and I took it, noticing his matching pale face and white-blond eyebrows. His light crystal blue eyes completely had the icy effect. On the steamy Tennessee morning, his cool appearance had an interesting effect on me.
I shivered despite the heat of the day as I shook his hand. “Adelaide Monroe.”
“Sorry, I was just in the news van. They keep that thing at a balmy sixty degrees!”
“So you’re a reporter?” I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup once more.
“Yeah, I’m working my way up through the ranks. Hope to be the head sports writer someday, but for now, I’m covering races like this.” He gestured toward the start line.
“I bet you’ll get there sooner than you think.”
“Thanks, Adelaide. If I had a dollar for every time a pretty girl told me that, I’d have a hundred cents in my pocket.”
I laughed as the starting gun went off.
“That’s my cue,” he said, snapping pictures as the elites ran by. Once the second corral started, he let his camera fall by his hip, hanging by the strap. He took a pencil out from behind his ear to jot down notes. “Listen, doll, I gotta run and get some more shots of the race, but I would love to take you to lunch right there after the race.” He used his pencil to point at the deli-diner behind us.
And without authorization from my heart, my head nodded as my voice said, “It’s a date.”
“Looking forward to it, Adelaide.” He flashed a small grin and dashed off toward the news van behind us.
We’re not ready for this, my heart cried out.
Yes, we are. It’s happening, so you’d better fall in line , my head commanded.
And that’s when Cynthia and Tom came into view. She was all smiles and thumbs as she set out on the course. As soon as they were out of sight, I took the shortcut across the park to the halfway point. It was a brisk twenty-minute walk for me, followed by a thirty-minute wait for another glimpse at Cynthia.
She wasn’t smiling this time, but she managed a thumbs up. Back across the park, I walked. This time, I ran into Nate at the finish line. He was looking down at a sheet with a microphone in his hand.
“Nate,” I called out, and he looked up and grinned at me.
“Hey, doll! Give me a second. I’m on live in five minutes.”
I nodded and turned my focus back to the runners. I kept my eyes peeled for Cynthia and Tom as I cheered on those who crossed the finish line. I felt someone touch my shoulder, and I immediately turned to see Nate.
“Woah, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to let you know that I’ve got to go turn in my footage and lay down a few tracks. I can meet you at the deli in about thirty minutes. Will that work for you?”
“It should. I don’t know how long my friend will be, but...”
“No pressure. I’ll be there working on an article. Come when you can.”
I nodded, and he smiled, showing me his Kirk Douglas dimples before he turned and walked away.
Twenty minutes later, I saw Cynthia and Tom heading down the final stretch. It was just under the two-hour mark, and Cynthia looked like she was fighting for every single stride. I screamed as loud as I could, and her head came up. She grimaced in pain as she crossed the finish line, collapsing into Tom’s arms.
“You did it!” I joined the group hug.
“And I feel it,” she said with a groan.
Tom laughed. “Yeah, but you did it, darling, in under two hours. I knew you could!”
“You guys stink!” I wiped some of the salt off Cynthia’s arm as I stepped back from the sweaty-sock fragrance cloud.
Cynthia raised two thumbs up as she sank to the pavement. “I need a shower. And food. And a nap.”
“C’mon, darling.” He grabbed her hands and pulled her up. “Adelaide, let’s get this girl home.”
“Umm, so guys, I kinda... well, I kinda... met somebody... and yeah, lunch...do you guys want to come? I’m supposed to meet Nate right there.” I pointed to the deli-diner a few steps from the finish line.
“Go, I’ll pass as I’m about to collapse,” Cynthia said.
“We’ll catch an Uber. I’ll get her home safe. Just keep your phone nearby.” Tom winked as he half-carried Cynthia away.
That was weird. Why would he mention my phone?
I wondered as I headed to the diner. I opened the door, and the scent of cured meat hit me in the nostrils. The place was a cute, old-school deli-turned-diner—one I had never visited before. I spotted Nate after a quick survey of the clean but small space.
He didn’t move as I walked up to the table. “What ya working on, Correspondent Whitehouse?”
His head popped up, and his eyes were wide. As soon as he recognized me, his look softened. “Adelaide, I’m glad you came.” He gestured for me to take the seat across from him as he put away his computer.
A memory surfaced as I sat down. “Have you ever heard of Scholastic’s Live: It’s Fairy Tale News ?”
He laughed. “I actually do know of that program. Our school used it, and it’s what made me want to be a reporter. Although the teenage version of me would tell you, it had to do with watching sports and doing man-stuff. It definitely did not have to do with fractured fairy tales.”
I snorted. “I was terrible at it! When I was a kid, my mom homeschooled us. She used that book to teach me literary terms because I was literally obsessed with fairy tales. My reports were fodder for family jokes for years.” I rolled my eyes.
“So, are you still a princess in search of a fairy tale?”
“I used to be.” I looked down at the table. “Maybe I still am. I thought I’d found my Prince Charming, but things didn’t work out the way I planned.”
“So he broke your heart?”
“More like we never made it to the ball. I mean, we danced, and it was... but it’s all ancient history.”
“Doesn’t sound like it’s all in the past.” His icy blue eyes stared right through me as he mercifully changed the subject. “So, how did your friend do?”
I grinned. “Great, she finished, which was goal one. And she did it in under two hours, which was goal two. She was toasted, though, so our other friend took her home.”
“That’s fantastic.”
The dreaded, awkward pause entered, so we decided to get up and order our food. As we sat back down on the red vinyl chairs, I grasped for something to say and landed on, “So, tell me what it’s like to be a reporter.”
It worked. He spent the next fifteen minutes talking about reporting, sports, and his favorite movie, Ace in the Hole from the fifties. I think I nodded in all the right places, but I was distracted. I needed the past to be in the past, but it kept popping up.
My phone rang. “Speaking of ancient history,” I whispered under my breath. I looked up at Nate. “I need to take this, sorry.”
He waved his hand as if to say—go ahead.
“Brenn,” I answered as Nate arched his eyebrows.
“Adelaide, I was afraid you wouldn’t answer.” He said as he breathed a sigh of relief. The order-up bell dinged in the background, and Nate got up.
“What’s up?” My tone was harsher than I wished.
“Are you busy? I need to tell you something. In person.”
My hand lept to my throat.
Brenn was here?
Why was he here?
Brenn took my silence to mean that he needed to repeat his words. “I’m in town, and I need to tell you something in person.”
My heart soared, but my head was not catching on. “You’re here?”
“Yeah, come meet me at the pavilion at Jack Greene Park,” he answered.
Realization dawned on me. “Wait, I’m just across the street.”
“I know.” I could almost see the grin on his face.
How is that possible? “But how?”
“Tom told me.” Time stood still. I looked across the street, seeing the edge of the park and the outline of the pavilion in the distance. I swear I saw a Brenn-shaped dot in front of it.
“I’ll be there in less than five minutes.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
I ended the call. My heart was pounding as I turned to see Nate placing our sandwiches on the table. “I’m sorry, but I—”
“Go, I’ve seen that look before. I hope he knows what he’s got.”
“Thank you, Nate.”
“Nice to meet you, doll.” He channeled his inner Kirk Douglas, and I smiled.
I leaned over and kissed his cheek before I ran out of the sandwich shop.
Brenn!
My heart soared, and my focus narrowed in. As I ran across the road, I saw him in the distance. He stood there in jeans and a tie, one hand in his pocket.
Oh. My. Fairies.
A grin was spreading across his face. I picked up my pace.
I saw nothing but the distance between us, which was closing by the second. One last pathway to cross, and then it was all grass after that.
Smack!
I hit the ground with a thud. A tunnel of darkness closed in on the bright blue sky in my vision.
The birds chirped.
Lots of things whooshed.
I heard footsteps.
The sky disappeared, and a face filled the remaining light.
The last thing I saw was terror in Brenn’s emerald eyes before my world turned black.