Oct 5 2024 Protagonist Background Story

He remembered the first time he saw her, short and beautiful, though older, he knew that. He saw the law books she pulled from her bag and placed on the café’s long table. He saw her smile, warm and honest, when others came into the warm coffee shop from the cold and windy upstate New York winter afternoon. He heard her welcome each and every one of them, hugged a couple with cheerful embraces and kissed a few cheeks. He remembered that he had to quickly look away when she turned her head towards him and how her welcoming smiled turned devilish and intriguing.

That was February of 1983, some five years earlier, and now Longfellow Darke sat on the altar’s steps reading the letter he had been handed by Melissa Timmon’s youngest sister Melanie. He had a sense of dread when he woke up in the morning, before the alarm sounded, after a restless sleep. And the words on the single sheet of tear-stained paper, written in her beautiful penmanship, hurt more than any of his soccer injuries. His heart was broken.

Gifted by the family’s “Magic Blood”, gifted to be able to talk with ghosts and spirits, didn’t help him this time. Nothing came to him the previous evening as he spent time drinking and eating with his best man and groomsmen, not a word from them in his dreams, though the demons from his youth made certain that they were not to be forgotten. No whispers from the ghosts that inhabited the brownstone, where Melissa had moved into a year before since it was closer to her job at Oldham and Newbury Attorneys, LLC.

She was not with him, had moved a few items into her parents’ home: Pre-wedding superstitions he was told. Now, while holding her goodbye letter, it made sense, since he hadn’t heard of brides-to-be moving most of their clothing out of a shared home days before their wedding.

“I do love you,” she wrote, “but I am not IN LOVE with you.” He wanted to crumple it up and throw it away, but that would not lessen the hurt nor bring her back. He fought back tears, feeling that it was wasted on her. He slowly folded it and tucked it into a pocket. He took a deep breath, stood, and addressed those who still were seated. He noticed that most of the bride’s side had left after Melanie stood at the pulpit and announced that the wedding was off, only her and a few who wondered if the reception was still going to happen – food and drink would still be served, since her father’s checks had cleared. He cleared his voice and looked for a more sympathetic face.

In the back, through the tears, he thought he saw someone, someone that he didn’t think received an invitation, but there she was, her titian hair now long and in gentle tresses, wearing a muted peach and white dress, her green-gray eyes behind gray tinted glasses. He watched as she stood and prepared to leave.

“Let’s go and get some food. I’m starving!” His words brought a muted cheer from the others. He watched as they rose and talked. Longfellow looked back to find the familiar face, but she was gone, the church’s door slowly closing told him that she left. He had no time to dwell on her: his groomsmen came and took him to the waiting limo.

He sat in the backseat, his best man and two others with him, talking and making plans to get drunk, while he silently stared out the window and wondered how did she know to come.