Richard slides into a booth, at a table of a diner, near his apartment. He looks up at the man sitting across the table from him, and smiles.
"Thanks for meeting me here."
"I take it that you had a chance to read the report?" Jim questions.
"Yeah, I did."
"Did you talk to Katie?"
"Talk? I wouldn't call it that. She simply stated she was in an accident that she couldn't remember."
"Do you believe her?"
"I want to."
Jim shakes his head, "That isn't what I asked."
"No. If it happened six days ago I might believe her."
"But it was six years ago."
"Why hasn't she ever mentioned it?"
"She never does," Jim reveals.
"She had to deal with it at some point, didn't she?"
"She pretended like nothing ever happened. Maybe I am partially responsible for that. I went to her job, and I asked them to handle it delicately. Her captain told me he understood, and he wouldn't bring it up unless she did."
"She never did," he realizes.
"I don't think so. I had a role in how things were handled when she was released from the hospital. I made some mistakes."
"How can I help her?"
"You find away to push her boundaries without pushing her over the edge. I never was any good at that. If anyone can help her it's you."
"What if she really doesn't remember? She will hate me for being the person that opens that can of worms."
"Do you really believe that she can't remember?"
"No. Her reaction told me that she did."
"What is your plan?" Jim quizzes.
"I have to be honest. I don't have one. I don't know how to handle this situation. I will have to handle it delicately. I don't want to push her until she breaks."
Jim takes a sip of his coffee, "Maybe it's what she needs."
"I read the report at least half a dozen times, the accident was not her fault."
"No."
"Does she know that?"
"I don't know. She refuses to talk about it to me."
"Has she read the accident report? Has she seen the photos?"
"I don't know. I was the one who handled all of the insurance claims. She didn't want to deal with it, and I just wanted to protect her."
"I understand wanting to protect your daughter. I would do anything to protect mine."
"I think that I made the situation worse. I gave her an out. I handled things so that she didn't have to. I don't think that she ever actually dealt with any of it."
"Montgomery knew, what about..."
Jim cuts him off, "Everyone knew. Her partner at the time, he knew. Everyone knew, and no one said anything. I think that they were afraid to say anything. They wanted to protect her just as much as I did. We all made the mistake of allowing her to live in denial."
"Do you think that she knows?"
"Which part?" Jim cocks an eyebrow.
"That she wasn't the only person in the car?"
"I doubt that there is anything she doesn't know about that night."
"Knowing her she's probably replayed that night in her head a million times."
She winds up at the gym. She takes her anger, and frustration out on a punching bag. She doesn't stop until she's drenched in sweat, and too tired to punch anymore. Even as her energy wanes her anger doesn't. She tightens the laces of her sneakers, and leaves the gym. She breathes in fresh air. She shoves ear buds into her ears. Her ipod is wrapped around her arm, secured in a band. As her feet pound against the sidewalk she tries to forget. She tries to tune out the rest of the world. She tries to stay focused on what's ahead. Instead she finds herself thinking of what's behind her.
She sits on a wooden step, outside of a house in the suburbs. She keeps her eyes focused on the street ahead of her. She wears a pair of black sneakers, a pair of jeans, and an oversized grey long sleeved t-shirt. She sits on the second step, with her feet pressed against the bottom step. She hears footsteps coming near her. She looks up, and finds a familiar face approaching.
He's tall, and muscularly built. He's got dark hair that is cropped close to his head. His bright green eyes land on her. She looks away from him, as he moves towards her. He takes a seat next to her, on the step. He wears a jeans, sneakers, and a navy blue t-shirt that says NYPD across the front. The sleeves of the t-shirt cling to his muscles. His olive colored hand lands on her leg. He clears his throat.
"You can't run away every single time something doesn't go your way, Kate."
"Tony I can't do this."
"Do what?"
"I can't pretend like I want to be here, when I don't. I didn't want to come here. You keep pushing me into doing things that I don't want to do. You try to make me feel guilty, but it isn't going to work. I am done feeling guilty."
"Kate come on. We had to do this eventually. You have put this off for over a year. You had to meet my parents eventually."
"You have this sick, twisted idea that all of this is going to work out, and we're going to live happily ever after. I thought that I made it perfectly clear that we aren't going to work out. I can't be with someone who is constantly trying to change me. I don't need anyone to control me."
"Kate that isn't what I am trying to do."
"You forced me to drive all the way out here to see your parents. I don't want to be here. I want to be at home."
"Fine, we can leave first thing in the morning."
She shakes her head. Her face turns red, and the vein in her head pulsates, "No. I am going home tonight."
"Okay, we'll go tonight."
"You don't have to come with me. I am leaving with, or without you," she rises from her seat. She heads onto the porch. She speeds towards the front door.
"Kate, wait."
She spins around, and looks at him, "No. I am going to go get everything out of there, and pack the car."
"I will help you."
"I don't know that I want you to."