by Lori Villarreal
Derek heaved a sigh, and then sighed again.
In no hurry to leave the taxi, he pressed the button on the door panel, lowering the window half-way. A much-needed burst of fresh air wafted across his perspiring face.
He looked at the house.
The driver glanced in the rearview mirror. “Is this the right place?”
“Yeah.” It was his parents’ house.
A dog barked from the yard across the street, its location shrouded by darkness. He wondered if the Wilsons still had that ratty little terrier with a piece of his ear missing.
How long has it been since he’d been back here…a year?
“You gonna get out here?” the driver asked.
“Give me a minute,” Derek said. His hands were shaking.
“It’s your dime.”
Would his parents understand?
He’d always been good at sports – had even won a scholarship to the state university.
Now in his third year of college, things were not as they were when he’d started.
It was time he told mom and dad the truth.
With another sigh, Derek rummaged in the bag at his hip. Darting a quick glance at the back of the driver’s head, he flipped open the little round mirror, and checked his reflection.
Not bad at all.
The operation was a success.
Derek took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“That’ll be twelve-sixty-five, miss,” the driver said, his eyes in the rearview mirror admiring the pretty young woman in the back seat.