The Day We First Met

It was 6:45 AM when I heard a knock on the door.

Sitting at the kitchen island with my coffee in hand, my bread sitting in the toaster oven, and Bennie sleeping sound in her room, I tightened my robe to look out the door.

It is one of the mail carriers, Jordan.

Usually, our mail comes right at 12:32 PM on the dot. It’s a small town and they have it down to the minute. Same time every day.

Opening the door slowly, I noticed he was out of breath. Did he run here? Is he running from something? Someone?

“Jordan! What are you doing here at this hour? Are you alright? Do you need to come in?”

No reply right away, only a small shake of his head right to left, bouncing his floppy brunette curls.

And then, “This is for you.”

He handed me a little blue envelope. And on the right corner sits the same stamps that I have sitting in the junk drawer next to the fridge.

“Thank you, Jordan, but is there a reason you are giving this to me now? Who told you to bring it this early?”

“Ma’am, I was just told to bring you the letter. He says it will explain everything. My boss told me to run it over...and he said run.”

We both stared at each other, unsure of what else to say. At this point, I knew as much as him.

“Well, thank you. Get home safe.”

“Have a good one ma’am.”

I closed the door, locked it, and went back to my kitchen island. Blue envelope sitting next to my half-empty coffee.

And that’s where I am now. Unable to bring myself to open it.

I think at first, maybe it was just marked urgent and Jordan’s boss, Gary, told him to run it over first thing in the morning. And that Jordan took him too seriously.

But his expressions told me otherwise.

I am already certain this is from Austin, who is supposed to be on a business trip until Thursday. So why would he be writing when he can just text or call? Or just wait two days until he comes home?

On my next exhale, I rip through the blue paper, and find a folded up sheet of yellow lined paper.

I rush to the junk drawer and see the missing stamp and the jagged edge of the notepad.

This letter was written before Austin left home.

It could only mean something inexplicable. I have a gut feeling that nothing good will come from this.

I read,

Love--

Know that whatever you read about me isn’t the truth. The truth is more complicated but I am not the bad guy. Please believe me. Had to run. Be back as soon as things clear up. Hoping it’s sooner than later. Kiss our sweet girl for me.

XX

Austin

P.S. Love you like the day we first met.

I switch on the television to station 4, our local news, quickly turning down the volume so I don’t wake Bennie.

Plastered across the screen is a list of men, they are calling them the “Blazing Bulls.” Following are pictures of each of them...Austin’s pops up and my stomach drops. The picture they chose of him is his Facebook profile picture; smiling on the day of Bennie’s 12th birthday. All the other men have straight faces, some are even their mugshots.

How could he be grouped into the mix?

As I listen, I find out that he is accused of leaking confidential information to these “Blazing Bulls” so they found when his company was the most vulnerable. They said he potentially gave them passwords and entry. He is named the traitor. My husband of 17 years.

All the while, Bennie is dozed off in her blissful ignorance.

Immediately, I call the school before the administration gets there. I don’t want them asking any questions, so I leave a message saying Bennie will be out today and that she has an appointment.

And then I just continue to hear the false information being fed to me through the screen.

“Austin Tend, the CMO of Scorcher Enterprises for 12 years, has been sharing information with the organized crime group, historically known as The Blazing Bulls. After a long hiatus, they have internally hacked Scorcher Enterprises and attacked their servers. They currently maintain control over SE and have already stolen data to hold over the company. The time it will take for SE to regain control is unknown.”

I’ve heard enough. This isn’t true. I know it can’t be, and I have proof from Austin himself that he didn’t do it. He is innocent.

But what did he know before? He had already prepared for this moment, he had a note written out and sent well over a week ago.

I’ve reread the note over and over when suddenly I realize the P.S. may not just be a sweet saying.

The day we first met.

My mother’s house.

In college, he worked as a florist. My childhood home was a few miles outside of the little university he went to. I came home one weekend for Mother’s Day. My father sent flowers to my mother, and I happened to be coming out of the shed as he was going up to the porch. I must’ve been grabbing something for my dad, he was always fixing things around the house that don’t necessarily need fixing. And we locked eyes, with the beautiful bouquet in his hands.

That must be a clue, maybe he went up there. My mother’s house is currently empty, she goes down to South Carolina for the winter, even though it's not the warmest she says it’s “Warm enough for me. Anything’s better than Florida.”

Although it’s early, it’s still later than if Bennie had to wake up for school. So I rub her arm to wake her up, like I have since she was five.

“Mommmmm...it’s too early,” she says in her groggy morning voice.

“Hon, you have to get up. We’re heading out in fifteen minutes for your grandmother's.”

“Grandma’s in South Carolina, what do you mean we’re going up there?”

Instead of filling her in on the ugly truth, I announce, “She thinks she forgot to turn off the water, and the pipes will burst now that it’s getting colder...Look, I’m letting you skip a day of school for this. I don’t need any more questions right now.”

I know I hid my nerves well enough when she springs out of bed upon hearing “skip school.”

I already packed the car with snacks, extra clothes in case we can’t come back tonight, and the note hidden in my pocket.

And then we’re off.

Bennie asks me some questions, like why she needed to be with me. On the inside, I don’t want to leave her alone. Not with the news, not with the reporters or potentially police, and surely not with The Blazing Bulls knowing where we live.

But instead, I say, “Honestly, it’s for selfish reasons. It’s a long drive and I would’ve been bored. I thought this could be fun. And you’ve been needing a spontaneous mental health day.”

It was enough for her to turn up the music and get ready for the day ahead of us...little did she know.

As I pull through the gravel driveway, I don’t notice anything out of the ordinary and my stomach drops again. I was hoping maybe I would see his car, an open window, or just some sign of Austin. But then again, he’s on the run. He would know better than to leave a trace.

I grab my purse from the backseat and walk up the porch with Bennie.

She reaches under the mat to grab the key and says, “Mom, the key isn't there.”

Austin.

“That’s alright, grandma must’ve brought it in. I have the spare.”

Jangling my key chain, I open the door to an empty hall. But around the corner…

“Dad? What’re you doing here?”

My stomach drops for the third time today, but this time with relief.

Quickly before Austin could ruin my cover I say, “Surprise! Dad joined us for your mental health day. Well...more like the flights were cheaper up here and so I figured today would be the perfect day to come and shut down the house for the winter and take you with me.”

I hold Austin for as long as I can before Bennie can suspect anything.

“Hey Ben, can you head on out to the shed and grab the toolbox? I’m gonna head to the basement and do the pipes,” Austin says, nodding at me as if saying, “Now comes the truth.”

As the door shuts behind Bennie, I take a deep breath ready to ask all the questions possible. Before I can do that, Austin begins:

“We don’t have much time. I’m being framed. It was all pinned on me but it was the CEO, Martin. I was holding proof, ready to bring it to the FBI because I slowly found out what was going on. I guess somehow he found out and decided that I would be the scapegoat. Or maybe it was the plan all along for it to be me. All that matters is I can’t come home until my name is cleared.”

“Why? But why would Martin do this to his company?”

“Money? Power? Publicity? Control? I don’t really know but he gets a damn lot out of it. More than you’d think. He’s been working with The Blazing Bulls since day one.”

But then, Bennie returns and hands Austin the toolbox.

He heads downstairs and I put on a pot of tea for the three of us.

It’s whistling as he comes back up, but I can tell by his movements that he is in a rush.

He’s going to leave.

Another stomach drop.

“Bennie, I love you. But I can’t come home today with you both. Your mom will explain everything.”

I will? Great. How will I explain all of this to a fourteen-year-old?

He whispers in my ear, “Believe in me. Alright? I will be home, soon. I promise you. Love you both...Like the day we first met.”

And just like that the wind from the shut door blasts in our faces.

Bennie starts crying because she can tell something’s wrong. Really wrong. I hold her and try to keep it together but start crying too.

But if those short few minutes prove anything, it’s that he will return here, to the day we first met.