Going Home
Kim Pritekel
(visit me at www.kimpritekel.com)

Happy Halloween!! 


The house was quiet. It was strange, as Randi was so used to the TV being on, usually tuned to a cooking competition show of some sort. She was used to smells of baking coming from the kitchen as Lea tried a new recipe. Now, the lights were off, the air smelled of whatever was the scent in the last air freshener Lea had plugged in to make sure the house smelled nice when not smelling of baked goods. To make it smell like a home.

Randi let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumped and hands tucked into the pockets of her women’s cargo pants. She felt utterly defeated. Empty. Seven years, down the drain. She brought a hand up and ran it through shoulder-length hair, which Lea had always said was black as midnight. No doubt her Kickapoo ancestry, though only on her father’s side.

Blowing out a long, tired breath, she headed to the bedroom to pack. She had yet another long haul trip to do, which according to Lea, had been the final straw. Said Randi was gone too much, said she didn’t give her enough attention, said she was lonely and tired of being alone in the relationship. She’d said a lot.

Randi felt angry, betrayed and just in general, miserable. She grabbed her big duffel from the closet, now half-empty, and tossed the bag to the bed. She didn’t need to leave for two days, but there was no way in hell she was staying in that bed alone. Though only a queen, it may as well have been the size of the ocean.

As the trucker grabbed clothing and threw it to the bed, her mind was racing. Why couldn’t Lea see that she worked as hard as she did to provide them with a good life? Why couldn’t she see that she didn’t like being away for two hundred of three hundred sixty-five days a year?

“Like I enjoyed being gone for fucking Christmas,” she growled, her anger about to turn into ugly crying. “Like I wanted to be in fucking Vancouver for your birthday!” she railed, her voice breaking.

Finally, she gave in and fell to the floor, face buried in her hands. Her tears were hot and bitter, her devastation flowing through her fingers.


Nine months later:

“Thanks, lady,” Randi said, taking her route paperwork from Melissa, the woman who had worked for Grady Trucking since God was a boy. Nobody knew the job better.

“You got it, Randi,” she said, chewing her ever-present gum. “Oh, and Lance wants to talk to ya before you head out towards Portland.”

“Okies,” Randi said, flipping through the pages of the small novel she’d been handed to get an idea of where she was headed on this route, which was supposed to keep her on the road for about three weeks.

“Hey, Randi.”

The trucker looked up to see her boss of eleven years entering the lobby of the metal building that served as HQ for the company, which was set up on five acres. Behind the metal office building was a huge garage where Lance’s mechanics worked on the trucks as well as a bay to wash them. There were sleeping quarters above the office if a driver needed to spend a night before heading out.

“Hey, Lance. What’s up?” she asked, tucking the paperwork into the binder she always kept it in to keep it protected and together. “Melissa said you needed to talk.”

“I do. You’re headed to Portland and you’ll pass through Beverton, where my parents live. Would you mind giving my sister a lift home?” Randi was surprised, and she assumed it must have showed because he chuckled. “I know, but you’re the only one I’d trust to do this.” He looked away for a moment before adding, “To keep her safe.”

“Yeah,” Randi said with a shrug. “I guess.” She knew some of her fellow truckers weren’t exactly gentlemen, and there was no way in hell she would trust any women alone with them long term. It got awfully lonely out there. “Obviously got plenty of room in the truck.”

“Okay, great,” he said, slapping her on the shoulder. “I’ll go grab her backpack for ya.”

“Okay.” While waiting as Lance headed to his office, Randi filled her travel mug with coffee from the huge pot Melissa always had made for the drivers. “Thanks,” she said as Lance returned and set the full backpack on the floor next to the coffee station. “Travels light, huh?” she joked.

He smirked. “Yeah. Look,” he added, his tone growing serious. “I really appreciate this,” Randi,” he said. “Let me know when you’re getting close to Portland and I’ll text you the address.”  

Randi looked down at the backpack, which looked to be a typical hiker’s backpack and picked it up. It was relatively heavy, obviously full of stuff. “Okay, will do,” she said, taking her binder, coffee and backpack in hand. “I’ll be out Big Bertha,” she said, nodding towards the parking lot outside.

Lance gave her a strange look. “Um, okay. I should hope so,” he said with a smirk, heading to his office.

Big Bertha was a big rig painted Prince Rain purple, and she glittered in the sunlight. Randi reached up and pulled the door open before heaving herself up on the step and hauling herself into the seat, pulling the backpack in with her and setting it beside her seat so she could get her coffee and binder situated.

Pulling the door closed, Randi reached up and tapped the Saint Christopher medal that hung from a silver chain from her rearview mirror. It swung harmlessly as she settled into the comfortable seat,  but didn’t belt herself in quite yet. Opening her binder and grabbing a pen out of a cup holder that she used for her pens and sunglasses, she began to go over her route when the passenger-side door was pulled open.

Startled, she glanced over and saw a young woman, probably mid-twenties, climb up and in. Randi was astonished as she looked at the young woman, who could be Lea ten years ago. She had similar deep green eyes, a small build and an angelic face.

The only difference was, this girl had short blond hair and Lea had long, auburn hair. But, what struck Randi the most was her quiet way. The woman had been in the truck for about thirteen seconds, and she could already sense that in her, just like Lea.

“You’re the sister?” Randi asked.

The woman, who looked to be about ten or so years younger than herself, glanced her way and nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay. Well, here’s your backpack,” Randi said, sliding the bag over in the space between their chairs. “Get buckled in and we’ll head out.”

The young woman nodded and did as she was told. Finished, she looked over at Randi expectantly. “Done.”

Randi slapped her binder shut and stuck it in the little nook she’d had made specially for it over head as she got the big engine rumbling. The lion’s share of her communications with HQ and her stops was electronic over her elog, but driver’s were still required to keep a paper book in case systems went down.

She got the huge truck rolling, the two women silent as the scenery passed them by. She glanced over at her unexpected passenger, noting the woman was staring straight ahead, hands tucked into her lap. She was dressed casual for the fall day, in a light-weight zippered hoodie and jeans. It looked like she wore a t-shirt underneath the jacket.

“It’s supposed to get cold tonight,” Randi said, “So, let me know if you need me to turn on the heat or,” she added nodding back towards her bunk in the sleeper cab. “Got plenty of blankets and such back there.”

The young woman nodded, sparing her a glance. “Thank you.”

“I’m Randi,” she said. Usually not one who needs to fill the silence, this young woman was killing her! She seemed to be so deep inside her own head, Randi felt a need to throw her a lifeline. “What’s your name?”

“Um,” the young woman murmured. “I’m Amy.”

“Amy,” Randi said, nodding as she mulled the name around in her brain. She smiled at her. “Nice to meet you.”  As she drove on, she reached for her coffee, taking a sip. “If you’re hungry or thirsty,” she said, “Back in the fridge should be a couple cans of Coke and an apple or two,” she said, hitching her thumb back to the sleeper compartment behind them. It contained a full-sized bed plus a twin-size overhead, a microwave, dorm-size fridge and lots of storage for her clothing and electronics.

“I’m fine for now, thank you,” Amy said quietly.

Randi nodded. She wasn’t going to push. “So, you and Lance,” she said, Amy finally looking over at her. “Pretty big age gap, huh? For siblings.”

“I guess,” Amy said. “Never really thought about it.” She shrugged. “He was just my older brother.” She brought up a hand and ran it through short, shaggy blond hair. “Would tell me what to do, I would ignore him …..”

Randi burst into laughter. “Ah, yes. He’s been my boss for eleven years, and I’ve found he likes to give orders.”

“He excels at that,” Amy said dryly. She shook her head, a small smirk on her beautiful face.

Randi noticed she had a beautiful mouth with lips that looked very soft, very kissable. She silently berated herself for allowing her mind to even go there. Very much not okay. Lance had sent her with Randi because he assumed that very thought process wouldn’t happen. Clearing her throat, she decided to distract her thoughts with more chit chat.

“How did you end up needing a ride back to Oregon?” she asked casually.

“Car broke down.”

“That sucks. Sorry to hear that,” Randi said, pumping the breaks as they neared a red traffic light.

“What’s that?” Amy asked, nodding towards the medal swinging lightly from the mirror.

“That’s a Sain Christopher medal,” Randi explained.

“Who’s that?”

“Uh, apparently some saint who watches over travelers,” Randi explained. “A.k.a, truck drivers like Moi.” She smiled over at the younger woman.

“But, you don’t buy into it,” Amy drawled.

Randi shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know.”  

“Whoever gave that to you is really special to you,” Amy said softly.

Eyebrows drawing, Randi asked, “How do you know somebody gave it to me, let alone that she was special?”

“Because it’s hanging on your mirror,” Amy pointed out. “Because I’ve seen you check to make sure it was still hanging on your mirror every time we’ve hit a bump or you had to brake quickly because of some idiot who pulled out in front of you.”

Randi was quiet for a moment as she considered her words. Finally, she looked over at her. “Um, yeah. Very good. Lea is … was, very special to me.”

“Did she die?” Amy asked bluntly.

Randi found herself getting a bit anxious at the conversation, but in some ways, thought perhaps it was good to talk about Lea – to a point. Clearing her throat, Randi answered. “No. She left.”

“Oh, she was your wife?”

Really getting uncomfortable now, Randi took one hand off the wheel and ran it through her hair. “No. We didn’t …. We didn’t get there.”

“Would you prefer I didn’t ask these questions?” Amy asked, no real remorse in her voice, just flat and honest, as it had been since she’d gotten into the truck.

“To be honest,” Randi said, glancing over at the younger woman. “Yes.”

Amy nodded. “Can do.”


From Denver to Portland was around a twenty-hour trip, If she’d been alone, Randi would have kept going, wanting to get closer to Oregon before calling it a night, but her passenger was already slumped over in the seat, the book she’d pulled from her backpack and had been reading lying facedown in her lap. 

Pulling into a large, well-lit truck stop in Ogden, Utah, Randi found a place to park Big Bertha for the night. She wanted to go in and grab a shower and get a few food stuffs. Reaching over, she lightly touched Amy’s arm. “Hey. Amy, wake up.”

It took a moment, but the younger woman started, glancing over at her with sleepy eyes. “What?”

“We’re stopping for the night,” Randi explained. “Gonna go grab a shower in there and food. Want to shower? Food?”

Amy pushed up from where she was resting against the door and looked around. “Um, no. Can I just go to sleep?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Randi unbuckled herself and climbed back into the sleeper part of the truck. She flicked on a light to reveal her bed, which ran parallel behind the two seats in front. A Second bed was tucked up overhead, using Randi’s bed to climb into.

“You sleep up here,” Randi explained, patting the entrance to the cave-like bunk. “If you need to use the restroom,” she continued, moving over to what looked to be a closet door. Pulling it open, it revealed a narrow space that held a toilet in it that was attached to a small tank that Randi would empty once she reached Portland. “And,” she said, tapping the sink wedged into the corner. “If you want to brush your teeth, whatever.”

Amy nodded from where she was looking over the edge of her chair. “Okay.”

Randi picked up her shower bag, which held her toiletries, change of clothes and pepper spray. A gal traveling alone had to be smart. “Be back soon.”

The one time in the world when a women’s bathroom was less used and crowded than the men’s. The woman’s locker room at the big truck stops were used by women traveling by car, but the showers were rarely ever used. In all her years driving, Randi could count on two hands the times she’d had another woman in the locker room with her, and have fingers left over.

As she’d expected, the locker room was empty so she had her pick of shower stalls, all three of them. Picking the one furthest from the door, Randi set her bag down on the long bench provided, which separated the rectangular-shaped room, lockers along the wall on one side, the curtained-off shower stalls on the other. Through the open doorway was the bathroom portion, with bathroom stalls with doors and a long vanity with mirror and sinks as well as the door to leave the facilities and return to the store/restaurant portion.

She brought out the sweats and sweat shirt she intended to change into after her shower, along with clean panties and bra and left them on the bench. She brought in her three-in-one hair and body wash (made so much easier and convenient when time and space was short) and shaver to the shower stall and left them on the corner shelf.

Now came the part that always made her nervous, undressing and walking around naked, even if just to stall and back, in the public space. She was a very private person, and had considered investing in a sleeper cab that had a small shower, but she’d already spent so much money on Big Bertha, it just wasn’t financially feasible just yet.

She stripped out of her clothing from the long day, shoving it into her bag before stepping into her flip flops, which she would not step out of again until it was time to put her boots back on. The floors in some places could be disgusting.

The water stream was strong and quickly warm, which garnered a low growl of approval from her throat. Eyes closed, she lifted her head as the spray pushed her hair away from her face as she smoothed it all back, the water beating it down. She hissed when her nipples tightened from the extremes in temperatures – the cold night and locker room to the warm, just this side of hot, spray of the shower, running down over her breasts and down her body.

She started when the shower curtain was tugged open. Amy stood there, naked. Her gaze locked on Randi, she slid the curtain closed behind her and stepped under the spray with the trucker. Looking over the younger woman, Randi’s breath caught. She was stunning. Her body was beautiful, skin pale and so soft-looking.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice far more breathy than she would have liked, but she was left near speechless, both from her surprise and her instant arousal.

Amy placed her hands on Randi’s hips, stepping further into her personal space. Her nipples brushed Randi’s making the trucker gasp as sensation shot from those two points straight down between her legs.

“Don’t you ever just want to be touched, Randi?” Amy murmured. Her hands moved from Randi’s hips up along her back and then trailing back down with her nails until she cupped her behind. “Just need to be touched?”

Randi’s gaze fell to beautiful lips, so close to her own. Her former thought coming back to her, so kissable. “Yes,” she responded.

One hand came up to cup Randi’s jaw. “Then let me touch you,” Amy murmured, urging Randi to step back until she was against the warm tile of the wall.

Giving in, Randi accepted the kiss Amy initiated, her hand moving from Randi’s jaw to the back of her head, holding them together as the kiss deepened. It took Randi a moment, as she hadn’t been touched nor touched another woman since Lea. But, as Amy touched her, kissed her, pressed her warm, naked skin against hers, she realized how deep her need really was.

Her hands found Amy’s hips as she became a full participant in the kiss, enjoying the softness of her lips, the velvety touch of her togue against her own. Her body was slowly igniting, a fiery need gripping her between the legs, leaving her feeling swollen and heavy with need. She gasped as, while they kissed, one of Amy’s hands trailed down her side and wormed its way between them and between those legs.

A long, languid sigh escaped Randi’s throat as Amy’s fingers pushed through saturated folds and to the core of her need. Amy pulled out of the kiss and began to kiss along Randi’s jaw to her neck as her fingers ran slowly through the volcanic wetness between Randi’s thighs.

“So wet,” she breathed into Randi’s ear before swiping at her earlobe with her tongue.

Randi nodded, unable to speak, barely able to breathe as Amy sucked at her neck before biting lightly, her free hand cupping her right breast. Randi was lost as it seemed Amy’s mouth was everywhere: one moment on her neck, the next her lips were wrapped around her nipple, and finally, she felt the long, hot stroke of a tongue against her clit.

“Oh, god,” Randi gasped, her head falling back against the tile of the shower. Her hand shot out to brace against the perpendicular wall as her left leg was lifted and placed over Amy’s shoulder. Her hips moved in time with the firm tongue as it slowly licked along her seam and her clit.

Amy reached up and held Randi by the hips as she hummed into her task seeming to enjoy it almost as much as Randi was. “So good,” she whispered.

Randi was floating in a haze of pleasure. As the steam rose up all around her, the shower spray pounding down on Amy’s back, it took her back to another time, another shower stall and another woman making love to her with her mouth.

Her hand reached down, fingers burying themselves in soft hair made ropy by the water. She moved easily with her mouth, synchronistic from years together, countless hours making love and expert knowledge of the other’s body.

“Lea,” she murmured, her chest beginning to heave with her quickening breaths as her pleasure rose. “I love you.”

Her hand was taken from wet hair and was laced with that of the woman loving her, their entwined hands resting against Randi’s hip. She was grateful for the added connection as she felt her body getting closer to release. 

With a sharp gasp and loud cry, Randi’s body exploded as her orgasm overwhelmed her like a tsunami. As she came, her body shuddering, tears began right along with it, her emotion and pleasure overflowing.

The mouth moved away from between her legs and the woman responsible for her intense experience stood. As the woman of her memory evaporated into the woman of her current reality, Randi’s tears turned into a sob.

“I’m sorry,” she managed.

“Shhh,” Amy murmured, taking Randi into a warm, full-body hug. “It’s okay,” she whispered, holding Randi tightly to her.

“I knew it was you, I swear – “

“Shh,” Amy said again. “This isn’t about me, Randi,” she offered, cradling Randi’s head against her shoulder. “I’m going home.” She rested her head against Randi’s. “This was about you.” She gently urged Randi to look at her. When she did, Amy gave her a smile, caressing the side of Randi’s face. “I’ll leave you now to finish your shower,” she said, leaving a lingering kiss to Randi’s lips before stepping out of the stall, sliding the curtain back into place.

Left alone, Randi stood there for a long moment, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. Her body still buzzed from her intense experience, yet her brain was pretty much gutted. She hadn’t expected that to happen with the somewhat aloof young woman she was taking to her parents’ house, due to arrive there the next day, and she certainly hadn’t expected her mind to go the way of her heart, back to Lea.  

She blew out a long, cleansing breath, wiping at her eyes, even as the water mingled with the tears. Feeling like an idiot, she grabbed her bottle of three-in-one and continued her shower, taking her time to thoroughly clean herself. It wasn’t so much Amy’s touch she wanted gone, as she found the young woman to be beautiful, intriguing and surprisingly sweet and compassionate.

It was more about trying to cleanse away her need and love for Lea, something that she’d carried around for almost a year, and it felt like an albatross around her neck. Or, perhaps more aptly, around her heart.

Shower finished, she dried herself off with the towel she’d hung on a hook just outside the stall and walked over to her bag and clothing, which seemed to be undisturbed. She quickly dressed and stowed away her toiletries in her bag before heading out into the store to pick up a few things.

The night was cold, October in full swing. Halloween was in a couple weeks. That fact, alone made sense as to why Lea was so strongly on Randi’s mind, she thought. It was Lea’s absolute favorite time of year. She tried to remember the last Halloween they’d spent together, Randi usually on the road.

As Randi neared her truck, she felt nervous. How was she supposed to approach Amy after their shower encounter? Yes, the younger woman had initiated it, but it still happened, and Randi had still looked like an idiot at the end, regardless of Amy’s kindness. She looked up at the rig for a long moment before blowing out a nervous breath before pulling the door open and climbing up inside.

The truck was quiet, only the light on that she’d switched on herself over her bed, which wasn’t much more than a reading light. She noted that Amy’s backpack had been placed in the passenger seat. Glancing to the sleeper part, she saw her bed was empty, the bunk above it looked to be empty, as well.

“Amy?” she called out, moving to her bed and placing her shower bag on it. She walked over to the bathroom’s closed door and leaned her head in, listening. Nothing.

Confused, she turned and looked out the huge windshield, looking at the truck stop. She was hoping or expecting to see her passenger walking to or from the building, but what caught her eye was her Saint Christopher medal, which was swinging back and froth from the mirror. It was possible she’d hit it with her arm or something when she’d climbed in, but couldn’t think of how. But, for the moment, she entertained that idea. That is, until a full thirty seconds later, the medal hadn’t slowed down.

Mesmerized, she stared at it, almost as though being put into a trance. She pulled herself out of it again as she looked around once more. “Amy?” Somehow she knew she wouldn’t get a response. For a moment she considered going back to the store to see if she was in there or if the guy behind the counter had seen her. But, instead she grabbed her backpack.

She took it to the back with her, placing it at her feet when she sat on the low bed. Unzipping it, she waited a moment, feeling as though she were betraying a trust, somehow. Pushing the thought aside, she pulled open the bag. Something made her look up. The necklace had completely stopped swinging.

Shaking her head, she turned her focus back to the backpack. Reaching inside, she pulled out a rolled jacket, a simple rain jacket, which she set aside. She brought out a book, the very book she’d watched Amy read – Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café by Fannie Flagg. The book was clearly well-read, lots of dog ears in the pages that didn’t allow the book to lie flat when closed.

More clothes and then what seemed to be the source of the weight of the bag. There were four good-sized geodes, their innards beautiful purple, orange and pink crystals. The largest was the size of a cantaloupe while the smallest was the size of an egg. Removing the rocks, she found two more things, both of which made Randi gasp.

The first was a sealed urn made of wood. A brass plaque was affixed to the front:

Amy Renee Whitherspoon – July 3, 1968 – August ?, 1991 

Her hand went to her mouth as she studied the urn, so many questions running through her head, her stomach roiling with confused amotion and fear. She set the urn aside on her bed and reached a trembling hand into the backpack to grab the newspaper article she found there. It had been carefully cut out of the newspaper and laminated.

Missing Oregon Woman Finally Found After 30 Years  

Beneath the headline was a grainy colored picture of the woman Randi had come to know over the past day. She was looking into the camera, and though she was smiling, the picture a candid snapshot, she had the same intense look in her eyes.

Randi studied that face, tears silently slipping over her cheeks. “Oh, Amy,” she whispered. She ran her fingers over the picture, her heart breaking for a young woman who’s life had been lost, so young.

Not sure what to think or what to feel, her gaze was caught again as the medal began to slowly move once more, like a pendulum. Tick tock, tick tock …..


Randi remained silent as Nora and Ted Whitherspoon looked through the contents of the backpack. It was hard, one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. She was still confused about the previous day’s events, and was inclined to think it had all been some sort of bad trip from bad coffee or something. All in her head. That thought made her the most comfortable.

“It’s been thirty years,” Nora finally said softly, hugging one of the t-shirts that had been in the backpack to her chest. “But yet, seeing all these things, it feels like it was just yesterday that she left. Don’t you think, honey?”

Ted nodded, the book in his hands. “We’d heard this was going to be made into a movie before she left,” he said, large fingers rubbing over the slick book cover. He let out a heavy sigh. “She never made it back,” he whispered contemplatively.

“How did she get out there?” Randi asked, hands cupped around the cup of coffee Nora had made for her when she’d arrived an hour before. “Did she go out to visit Lance?”

“Oh, no,” Ted said, shaking his head, setting the book aside. “He was still here, had just married Charlotte, who I think was pregnant with Johnathan.”

“She was,” Nora agreed with a nod.

“When she came up missing, he packed up the wife and headed out there,” Ted continued. “He was determined to find her. Said he wasn’t gonna leave until he did.”

“Years went by,” Nora said, picking up the story, “And they had the girls, started the trucking company, still nothing.”

“But, they’d found her car?” Randi asked.

“Yup,” Ted said, reaching up to shove his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. “Broken down in Castlerock.”

Car broke down. Randi could hear the words in her head. She ran a hand through her hair, a sudden chill passing through her. “And uh,” she said, forcing herself back on topic. “They found her backpack?”

“In the car,” Nora clarified. “Her keys were gone, her wallet, of course no cell phones in those days. Even the hundred dollars I’d given her in quarters to call home were gone. Just this.”  She patted the bag.

“I’m so sorry,” Randi said softly.

“She wanted to find herself, she said,” Nora explained, sadness in her voice. “Said she’d be gone for a few months then return and start her life as an adult.” She smiled. “That’s what she said to me.”

Randi smiled at her.

“But, at least now she’s home,” Ted said, placing a large hand on her urn of ashes. “My little girl finally came home.”


Randi sat in her truck, truly moved by sitting with Amy’s parents. Such good people, she thought. They didn’t deserve what had happened to Amy, and she certainly hadn’t deserved it. Police theorized she’d abandoned her car to get to a gas station or store for help and had either been picked up or abducted. Her remains had been found in a very remote part of the mountains, some twenty miles from where her car had been found thirty years before.

She sat there, contemplating the young woman she’d come to know through her parents’ stories about her, their only daughter. She’d pretty much come to the decision, perhaps for her own mental health, that she’d imagined the rest. She’d had the backpack of cremains the whole time. Yeah, that was all.

She reached to start the truck when she felt a soft touch on her arm. Looking to her right, somehow, she wasn’t surprised to see Amy sitting there. All she could do was stare. The young woman was what and who she had nearly convinced herself she’d imagined, but now … perhaps not. Her eyes, as intense as ever, were filled with a peace that hadn’t been there before. Not even in the picture in the newspaper.

“I wanted to thank you,” Am said, her voice soft. “For bringing me home.”

Randi nodded. “I don’t understand any of this,” she said, indicating the woman sitting next to her.

“You don’t have to,” Amy responded. “Sometimes in life, the most beautiful moments make no sense at all.” She cupped Randi’s face and leaned forward, leaving a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “Go home,” she whispered. “I didn’t get to finish my path because of my own choices,” she continued, lightly caressing Randi’s cheek, her eyes so filled with affection. “Don’t make the same mistake.” She pulled away, a serene smile on her lips as she glanced up to the Saint Christiopher medal. She reached up and lightly batted at it, making it swing.

Randi chuckled, watching it. “But – “ When she turned back to look at the other woman, she found herself alone. She knew better than to look for her. Feeling surprisingly emotional, she reached up and wiped a tear away before it could fall. “Take care of yourself, Amy,” she said to the empty truck. “Welcome home.”

Taking a deep breath, she reached up and grabbed the swinging medal, removing it from the mirror. She held it in her hand for a long moment, running her thumb over the rough, engraved surface. Finally, she made up her mind. She had a life to change, a relationship to save, a woman to marry and a life to live.

Replacing the chain around the mirror, she got the truck started and reached up, pulling the horn to toot three times. “I’m goin’ home!”


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