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This is the third chapter of a series of six stories that will run this week.

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It was time.

Eddie Ray wheeled the Cadillac back toward town, taking the long way so the engine could warm up and his nerves could settle. He turned onto Main and rolled up to the Grounds for Divorce. The sign was still there, faded around the edges but proudly defiant, like it knew something you didn’t.

He parked the DeVille out front and stepped out, smoothing his shirt like it would somehow erase the last two decades.

The bell over the door jingled as he walked in. The scent of coffee, cinnamon, and something fried greeted him like a slap and a hug at the same time.

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Lucinda looked up from behind the counter—and froze.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. She set down the mug she was drying, and in three long steps, she was out from behind the counter and in his arms.

They didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, arms wrapped around each other, like they had more in common than the same page in a faded yearbook.

They only separated when Delgado pushed through the kitchen door, wiping his hands on a towel and catching the tail end of the embrace.

Lucinda looked out the window and saw the Cadillac parked at the curb.

She shook her head, smiling wryly. “Still showing up in things shinier than your promises, huh?”

Eddie Ray smirked. “She’s got a few miles, but she still turns heads.”

Delgado returned to the kitchen without a word, the door swinging behind him.

Lucinda turned back, one eyebrow arched. “You remember the Monte Carlo I drove back in high school? Triple red. Interior, exterior, dash—redder than a sunburnt sinner.”

Eddie Ray grinned. “Like the best room in a whorehouse.”

She laughed. “Not the only similarity to a whorehouse that car had.”

He let the words hang between them, soaked in shared memory and the kind of heat that never quite fades.

“Damn, Lucinda,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

“We’ll see if you still feel that way after the coffee,” she said, already pouring a cup.

They settled into the corner booth like they’d done a hundred times back when gas was cheap and dreams were cheaper. Between sips of coffee and quiet laughs, they started trading memories like cards across the table.

“You remember that night out by Lake Leon, in the Monte Carlo, when we got stuck in the mud?” Lucinda said, grinning. “You were wearing that denim jacket with the fringe, and I swore I’d never be seen in public with you again.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle about that,” Eddie Ray chuckled. “You made me ride in the trunk till we got past the Dairy Twin.”

Lucinda laughed. “Well, you were muddy, and that car had standards.”

The conversation slid from one story to the next—sneaking out after curfew, getting caught by Lucinda’s mama parked behind the feed store, dancing in the rain after prom because they never quite made it to the dance floor.

Back then the Monte Carlo seemed like an accessory.  An afterthought.  As the two of them sat and reminisced, the more the burgundy Chevy coupe seemed took a more prominent role in the memories they shared.  “God provided color-coordinated vinyl landau roof, chrome bumpers, rubber bumper guards, bright side moldings, and dual body-color sport mirrors to separate us from the lower animals,” Eddie Ray laughed.

“Next you’ll tell me he provided front and rear bench seats are trimmed in red cloth and vinyl upholstery joined by a color-coordinated dashboard, door panels, and carpets so we could procreate,” Lucinda laughed.

“Luckily we never did, although we gave it our best shot!”  Eddie Ray laughed out loud for the first time in a while and it felt damn good.

“Did your mama ever figure out that those two big indentations on the hood were from your but cheeks?” Eddie Ray said haltingly.

“I had Bobby pound ’em out in Auto Shop class so she’d quit asking’ me about them.  Outta sight, outta mind.”

“That wasn’t the only thing that got pounded on the hood of that Monte Carlo!”  Eddie Ray realized after he said it that he might have gone just a bit too far.

Changing subjects, Lucinda caught him up on folks they used to know.

“You remember Billy Sharp?” she asked. “He’s back in town. Took over the transmission shop after his third divorce. Says he’s found Jesus and finally quit chewing. One outta two’s not bad.”

“Karla Carson?” Eddie Ray asked.

“California for a while. Came back to open a yoga studio in what used to be the old Gibson’s Discount Store. Calls it ‘Stretch & Surrender.’ Folks still use the parking lot for chili cookoffs, so it smells like cumin and eucalyptus.”

Lucinda gave him a sideways glance. “So what about you? That make you one of us? The ones who left and came back?”

Eddie Ray paused, his smile fading just enough to be honest. “Guess I’m still tryin’ to figure that out.”

Lucinda nodded slowly, like she understood better than he expected.

Eddie Ray swirled the last of the coffee in his mug, trying to find words that wouldn’t sound pitiful. “You know,” he said, not quite looking at her, “Naughty Pine’s only got so many nights left on that card before the front desk starts lookin’ at me sideways.”

Lucinda didn’t say anything for a long beat. She just stared at him, her fingers tapping gently on the tabletop.

“You thinking maybe I’d offer you a place?” she asked, voice soft but sharp.

Eddie Ray shrugged, but the effort was more defeat than charm. “Not if it’d complicate things. Just… figured maybe something that died years ago could still have a little life left in it.”

Lucinda smiled sadly. “Me and Delgado… we’re a thing now. Have been for a while.”

Eddie Ray nodded slowly, took the blow like a man who’d known it was coming. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “guess that’s that.”

She watched him for a moment. Then leaned in a little closer. “But have you been out to see the one who really broke your heart? Not just the one you got into trouble with?”

Eddie Ray stiffened just enough for her to notice. He shook his head.

“Haven’t summoned up the courage for that,” he said quietly.

Lucinda sat back, her eyes soft but unflinching. “Well, sugar… you might want to.”

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