Michaela inhaled deeply and leaned back in her seat. The plane had already started its descent and from her position, she could just about make out the jumble of buildings sprawled in the shadow of the mountains. She didn't need to watch to know that they'd be landing soon. She had done this journey so many times over the years that the landscape was all too familiar. With a sigh, she reached out and pulled down the window shutter. Her decision to come back to Colorado had been complicated and even now, as the plane taxied slowly towards the gate, she found herself turning over the options in her mind. Despite the pleas of her family and friends, she had fled Boston right after graduation, unable to stay a moment longer in the city that had held so many memories. She had convinced herself that she just needed a fresh start somewhere else, where she could carve a new path for herself. It had worked for a while. She had worked round the clock, barely coming up for air between shifts, secretly revelling in the work that all but consumed her and left little time for thought. But even then, the heartache had slowly resurfaced and day by day a strange longing had taken hold, a desire to go home. Colorado had certainly been that; she had happily followed her father to the small town all those years ago and now, when everything else had fallen away, she found herself yearning to go back, to relive those simple, quiet moments that had changed her life forever.
It didn't take her long to clear security and heave her one hefty suitcase off the carousel. Her flat in DC had been scantily decorated, her wardrobes barely stocked with anything aside from an array of scrubs and sneakers. She'd never really had the time or inclination to make it any sort of a home and when it came down to it, packing up had been a relatively painless process. With a sigh, she shifted her battered, leather messenger bag back onto her shoulder and headed out into the late afternoon sunshine.
Years had gone by, and yet everything looked exactly the same. It was like time had stood still in the small town. Michaela weaved carefully through the light traffic and pulled into a space outside the grocery store. The green awning was unfurled, the lettering just as faded and hard to read as she remembered. The sliding doors still caught on the left as a customer laden with brown bags hurried out. Even the white lino flooring looked the same, shining brightly as if Sully had just finished mopping it at the end of his shift. And yet to Michaela, that seemed like a lifetime ago.
An odd grinding sound from the engine broke into her thoughts; hurriedly, she stomped on the clutch but it was too late. The engine stuttered and stalled.
"Ugh!" she growled in frustration.
She missed the quiet purr of her automatic but the logistics of shipping a car across the country meant she'd had to settle for a rental until it arrived. The tinpot she was driving had been the last one left in the meagre airport lot. Or not driving, she thought moodily. Scowling at the chipped and scratched up dash, Michaela coaxed the key out of the ignition and stepped out.
The hot air hit her in the face and rushed down her throat. Even as she cast a cursory glance around, beads of sweat pearled at the nape of her neck. The corduroy jacket had seemed the perfect choice as she left DC; light enough to look smart but warm enough to ward off the damp fall chill. She had clearly forgotten how often September in Colorado was simply an extension of summer. The rocky landscape seemed to hang onto the scorching sunshine with a vicious tenacity and had been known to stubbournly refuse to let the temperatures drop until well into October.
Michaela suddenly remembered the halloween when Sully had ditched his zombie outfit and insisted on dressing up as coastguard, just so he could walk around in swim shorts the whole evening. The thought made her smile and as she looked up, a flash of golden hair in the window made her start. Her breath caught; it couldn't be. It was just because she had been thinking about him. Even so, she didn't trust herself to look any further. Turning on her heel, she headed straight for the coffee shop at the end of the block. It wasn't far but by the time she had reached the glass door and pulled it open, she was gagging for cool air. Inhaling deeply for a few moments as the door swung closed behind her, she eventually made her way to the counter and ordered a coffee.
"That'll be 2.95," droned the server, barely glancing up as he grabbed a cup and marker, "What's the name?"
"Mike," came an amused voice from over her shoulder, "trust me, it's easier than trying to spell her actual name."
"Mike it is," confirmed the server, "collection at the end."
Michaela barely registered the words. Her insides had turned to ice and she seemed to be fighting to simply make her lungs work right. Her heart raced as she struggled to steady her breathing.
"I got this."
An arm reached around her and tapped a card against the pin machine. The high pitched beep as the payment registered was like a jolt to her nervous system and slowly, she willed herself to turn around.
"Sully…" she breathed, her eyes wide and fearful as she surveyed the familiar figure. The memories of their last meeting rushed back unchecked; the wake, the terrible things she had said, his anger, her anguish. Michaela felt her hands tighten convulsively on the strap of her bag as her mind blew through her memories. Yet even as she struggled to control her thoughts, she noticed the subtle differences. He looked older but also calmer, relaxed, happy even. The half smile, as familiar as her own, pulled at his lips. And his eyes; had they always been that blue? As she watched they brightened into deep lakes with no trace of the stormy darkness she remembered. He had changed.
"How…how did you know?" she stammered, breaking the silence.
"That you were here?" queried Sully, reaching over to grab a cup holder from the stand, "I saw you out the window."
"You never could drive a stick could you?" he added with a chuckle.
"That's not what I meant," interjected Michaela quickly, still too uncertain of herself to respond to his friendly jibe.
"How did you know I was here, in Colorado?"
"Danny told me," shrugged Sully, grabbing Michaela's drink from the counter and gesturing to the stools by the window.
"Danny?" said Michaela incredulously.
"Yep," continued Sully, seemingly completely at ease.
"Haven't heard from him in years and then all of a sudden, I get a message from him.
"Sit down, Michaela, before you fall down."
Michaela scowled at him but sat down anyway, wrapping her hands around the cup of coffee.
"I don't know what to say," she whispered after a few moments, dropping her gaze.
"Well, that's a first," laughed Sully, "Don't think I've ever heard you say that before."
Michaela allowed herself a small smile and Sully's grin widened in response.
"We've got some catching up to do," he acknowledged before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a card.
"Let's have dinner tonight," he continued, "say 7 o'clock? Meet me here."
Michaela reached out mechanically for the card. Her brain seemed to have jammed; she knew this wasn't a good idea yet she couldn't think of a suitable excuse to get out of it.
"I'm sure you'll find it pretty easily," finished Sully with a secretive smile and before she could respond, he had disappeared out the door.
Michaela immediately looked down at the creamy card in her hand, her eyes darting past his name and down to the address printed in dark, cursive writing and gasped.