Page 52 of One More Time

He also recognised the value of freedom and the liberty of making choices, and by god he was going to be making the right ones from here on in. He had a life to live, and a woman and his children to make things up to. Grace may no longer be his wife, but she would forever remain the mother of his children and the owner of his heart. He could never love another like he still loved her and because of that, it wouldn’t be right to ever allow himself to fall for a woman again. Without Grace to share his days with, he was certain he’d grow old alone, and die alone. Everything else, he would work out along the way.

With the warm afternoon sunshine upon his face, he inhaled deeply and honed his senses. The scent of barbecued steaks and mowed grass lingered on the breeze. The bark of a dog carried from a few blocks away. A plane flew overhead. There were two ways to the transit station, and he could go whichever way he pleased. So he did. One step after the other, he closed the distance between this place and the bus ride that would lead him back to Sapphire Bay.

The rental tenants Grace had chosen had been given sufficient notice and had vacated, and Moonflower Acres awaited him with open arms. Tomorrow, he would contact his literary agent to see how developments were coming along, and if they had any more bites on his memoir. So far, there were two firm offers on the table, but his agent had told him to be patient so they could play the field.

Half an hour into his trek, as he wandered along the outskirts of the neighbouring township, an unfamiliar sedan pulled in alongside him and a male voice greeted him by name.

Dipping his head, Charlie looked through the passenger window, to see a familiar smiling face staring back at him. ‘Holy moly, Marty! I didn’t expect to see you round here.’

‘Yeah, sorry I was late, but the prison gave Grace the wrong time for your release.’ Reaching over, he shoved the passenger door open. ‘Come on, then, bugalugs. Get in.’

Chuckling at the nickname Marty had given him at high school, Charlie clambered in and plonked his bag at his feet. ‘Thanks for coming to get me.’ It was his first time in a car in years, and he felt a surge of nerves when Marty pulled back out onto the open road. ‘So, what have I missed?’ he said, by way of trying to take his mind off the fact they were hurtling along at top speed.

‘A heck of a lot, my friend.’ Gliding through the gears, Marty headed in the direction of home. ‘But I’ll fill you in when we stop for a decent meal, hey?’

‘Oh, okay.’ Charlie thought about tucking into a big juicy steak with a side of crisp garden salad and crunchy fries, smothered in peppercorn sauce, followed by a slice of warm pecan pie and creamy vanilla ice-cream, and his mouth watered. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

‘Great.’ Seemingly a little unsettled, Marty turned the radio up.

Minutes later, they pulled into one of the last parking spots at the front of a café. ‘Oh, crap. I haven’t got any cash, Marty.’ Charlie suddenly remembered how money made the world go around, unlike inside the clink, where cigarettes, drugs and other commodities ruled.

‘All good, Wilson. This one’s on me.’

They dodged traffic as they crossed the road. Taking in his surrounds, and the flash new cars, Charlie couldn’t believe how much things had changed. Reaching the footpath, he stopped to let two scantily dressed women pass by. ‘By the looks of it, people are wearing a lot less than I recall,’ he said quietly.

‘Ha, yeah, fashion has changed quite a bit, Charlie.’

The door of the busy cafeteria jingled with their arrival. Chatter echoed and music played from the jukebox. The mouth-watering scent of good food wafted. With every one of his senses on high alert, Charlie sucked in a sharp breath. Stepping in here was like diving head-first into quicksand.

Marty rested a hand on his back. ‘You good?’

Charlie snapped to and nodded. ‘Yup, just a bit overwhelmed.’

Marty leant in and dropped his voice. ‘We can go if you like.’

‘No way, Jose.’ Charlie shook his head. ‘I haven’t eaten a decent meal in eight years. I’ll handle it.’ He offered a lopsided smile. ‘No pain, no gain, as they say.’

‘Ha, yeah, sorry, my bad. I didn’t stop to think about how crazy this would all feel for you.’

‘No need to apologise, buddy. It’s all part of the process.’

An elderly waitress bustled over and greeted them, then ushered them to a booth. Sliding into his seat, Charlie silently mused over the fact there were real plates, actual glasses and metal cutlery, and there were no guards standing by in case all hell broke loose, which it quite often did. To him, this was like fine dining at its very best. And the scents wafting from the openplan kitchen were a far cry from the stench of prison food. His stomach growled in response.

Catching his wandering attention, Marty handed him a menu, and flicking it open, Charlie ran his gaze over the myriad choices. ‘Gosh, Marty, talk about giving a man way too many options.’

‘I know, loads, huh.’ Marty glanced over the top of his menu. ‘I can vouch for the beef burger, and the chicken Kiev is good, too, oh, and the Caesar salad.’

‘Righto, well that narrows it down a bit.’ Spotting the price of the steak and chips, Charlie grimaced. ‘Dang, inflation has happened big time while I’ve been away.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Marty half snorted. ‘The cost of living goes up and the wages don’t. It’s the way of the world we live in, I’m afraid.’

‘So, boys.’ The waitress arrived at their table and pushed her glasses up her nose. ‘What will you be having?’

Charlie was at a loss. Knowing he could order anything he liked was mind-bending. ‘Uhh …’ Panic made him point randomly. ‘I’ll have this.’

‘Fair enough, but …’ The waitress smirked, not unkindly. ‘I don’t know what this is.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ Charlie felt like a chump. ‘The steak sandwich and a side of beer-battered fries.’ He read it out and was pleased he was going to fulfil his craving for a steak, but on the cheaper side for Marty’s pocket.