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Author's Note: I'm not going to lie, I originally wasn't going to post this. My mind has shifted so much in writing this story, I'm still not sure about it. I had a plan, didn't like it. I came up with a new plan, didn't like that one either. This story is like bumbling in the dark for me. Honestly, I'm not sure where its going. There is one more written chapter at this. I'd like to thank my two awesome proof readers/editors for fixing my mess.

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4.

I wandered aimlessly about the town for about an hour, doing nothing more than window shopping. Well, looking into the windows of what stores were still around. It was a lot worse than I thought. Many of the old places I remembered had “closed” signs on their doors and were empty on the inside. It was a depressing sight. The town really was starting to disappear. Those places that were still there were fighting to stay around. Most of them were restaurants. I’d made a few circuits up and down Main Street. Of the forty or so shop-fronts I passed, nine were still open. Out of those nine, four were places to eat. Of the remaining five, one was a hardware store, another was a barbershop, one sold musical instruments and one was a used clothing shop. The last shop wasn’t really a shop at all, it was a place where people could recycle bottles and cans.

All in all, very sad indeed.

On my third pass, I decided I needed something to drink.

I made my way back to Sally’s Diner.

It was one of the few places I remembered going to as a kid. Stepping through the door, a little bell dinged. It was just like I remembered. In fact, the whole place reeked of nearly-forgotten memories. Nothing about it had changed at all. It still had that vintage 1950s vibe with all its vinyl seats and kitsch décor. There was even a jukebox playing rockabilly tunes. On the wall were old black and white photos of the era, framed over each booth. I smiled. Then took a deep sniff of the food, it smelled amazing. It made my mouth water as I walked over to the counter. Slipping onto one of the stools, my feet barely touched the floor.

Yep, exactly how I remembered it.

A moment later, an older woman in a vintage diner uniform came up to me.

“What can I get you, sweetie?”

To say I was surprised was an understatement. I remembered Old Sally from when I was a kid. She was an old lady back then. Not to be rude but she had to be ancient by now. The strange thing is, besides a few more lines on her face, she looked pretty much the same.

I looked behind her at the painted menu above me. Everything was the same.

Though I did notice a new addition.

“Can I get a cherry slushie, please?”

She smiled and wandered off to the new machine in the corner.

I guess even old places like this had to change with the times. While she was doing that, I took a look around more. The place was all but empty, which brought a frown to my face. I guess like most places around here, the mall was taking its devastating toll. Before, when Frank was talking about how Grandpa had been fighting all the new, I never really understood until now. My grandfather was trying to save places like this and keep the town’s traditions alive. Seeing all those empty shops, I think I finally understood. It wasn’t just about the farmland here. It was about preserving a way of life. A way that was slowly being consumed by greed and laziness.

Sally finally brought me my slushie.

I took a sip; it was good.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling out a couple of bills.

“Nope, it's on the house,” she said with a smile before wandering off.

Wait, what?

“Well, we can’t exactly be charging little Maddie DuBois, now can we?” said a gruff and very familiar voice.

I snapped around, seeing a large barrel-chested man standing there.

I almost squealed in excitement. Even more so that he recognized or even remembered me.

“Uncle Billy!”

I jumped off the booth and hugged him.

Billy was Sally’s husband, the two of them owned and ran this place together. He wasn’t really my uncle but he was Grandpa’s best friend. This diner of theirs was one of the oldest businesses in town. Their 1950s throwback décor actually started out in the 1950s, first owned by Billy’s father. Much of the diner had remained the same; those photos were proof of that. I remember Billy once telling my Dad that he didn’t plan on changing a thing. He was a traditionalist like Grandpa. Dad told me later that it was noble but futile too. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fight time.

Personally, I think Billy and Sally were doing a bang-up job at it.

For a couple close to 80, they were still keeping things going.

I finally let go, still smiling though.

Billy held me at arm’s length, smiling too. “Well, let me take a look at you, kid.”

I saw the man struggle for some kind of compliment, something other than the usual. In the end, he came up short.

“It's ok, Uncle Billy, we all knew I wasn’t going to take after my Dad,” I said with a laugh.

He frowned. “I was sorry to hear about your old man. He was a good one".

He gave me another hug; it was a lot more comforting than the last.

Sally came out of the kitchen and saw the hug. She gave both of us a strange look.

“What’s this now?” she asked, eyeing her husband suspiciously.

“This is Madison DuBois,” said Billy as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sally gasped, then came rushing around the counter. She pulled me into her own hug, just as comforting as her husband’s. When she finally let go, there were actual tears in her eyes.“I thought there was something awfully familiar about you. You look just like your Mom when she was your age.”

“Sally, I’m not sure a boy wants to hear that.”

I waved it off. “Trust me, I’ve heard it many times before.”

The old couple laughed.

“Are you visiting long this time?” asked Sally as she started to wipe down the counter.

“You can say that. We moved back. Mom is taking over Grandpa’s practice.”

Sally raised an eyebrow; Billy smiled knowingly.

“Good for her. I always knew she had a good head on her shoulders. Maybe things will finally start to change around here...”

Sally huffed. “You leave that poor woman alone, William Turner.”

He raised his hands in defeat. “I wasn’t planning on pestering her with the town’s problems. I can’t say the same for the others though. It won’t be long before everyone else realizes there’s another Mitchell on the case...”

Grandpa had been well-loved. There was only one law firm in town and most of the locals were clients. When he passed away last year, there was a hole in the community. His partner did his best to fill said hole, but most people weren’t willing to trust their business with a non-Mitchell. It took Grandpa years to earn their respect and encouragement. According to Grandma, people weren’t too keen that an outsider came in and swept Greta Madison out from under them. Grandma had been a prize to be won, and Grandpa did it. Over time they learned to trust and respect Grandpa, but it wasn’t an easy battle for him. Thankfully, Uncle Billy had been there to help him win those fights.

“Is it really that bad?” I asked, waving about.

The old couple looked at one another, then Billy let out a heavy sigh. “It's not good, that’s for sure. Jack Carson is an ambitious one, just like his father.”

Sally huffed. “It's a shame he wasn’t the one who died in that horrible accident...”

“Sally, hush, that’s horrible.”

She shrugged. “Just saying. His brother was such a kind man, we lost a good soul. I know for certain he wouldn’t have cut up this town like his damn fool of a brother.”

“Hush now, woman!”

“You know you’re thinking the same.”

Thankfully, the rest of the conversation didn’t stay on dismal things. The couple shifted gears, wanting to know all about our life in Phoenix. I spent the next thirty minutes telling them everything, up to and including Dad’s battle with cancer. I got a couple more hugs. I think Sally was a bit upset when I told them I stopped skating. She told me it was a shame because I had a real talent. I waved it off for what it was. In the end, I finally finished off my slushie and bid them good-bye. Talking to them made me realize that I really did want to take a true trip down memory lane.

“Well, I think I want to check the ice rink next.”

Sally smiled. “Getting that itch again, huh?”

“I made a promise.”

She smiled and gave me another hug. “Well, don’t be a stranger, hon.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Oh and tell that mother of yours to stop by and see us sometime,” said Uncle Billy as I started for the door.

I heard Sally start to scold him as the door shut behind me.

I chuckled, then tossed my empty slushie cup into a trash can.

Duncan Arena wasn’t the largest building in town, but it was pretty close. Not that that was saying much, especially compared to other places. Walking through the glass entrance, I was hit with nostalgia again. The large forum/lobby area brought back fond memories. Before moving, my family spent a lot of time here. I couldn’t help but think of better times. Dad was still playing hockey and was healthy, Mom was part-time teaching classes, and Allie wasn’t a bitch. I was even happy too. This was, after all, the place where I found my passion for skating.

Smiling, I walked past the ticket booth and posters.

The same advertisements graced the walls, updated for the times of course.

There was no one at the booth right now, and the large double doors leading into the rink itself were wide open. I knew from experience that that meant there was no public skate right now. It also meant there was probably some kind of practice going on. I tried to be quiet as I slipped inside. I sighed as soon as I caught sight of the ice again, and the memories came flooding back. It actually brought tears to my eyes to see it all again. Even more so when I realized there was a team on the ice, running drills. I recognized the blue and silver of their practice uniforms. They must have been from the school. I absently found myself wandering over to a spot I liked to sit and watch as a kid.

I might not have been a great hockey player like my Dad, but that didn’t mean I hated the sport. I just didn’t want to play it. The thing is, I knew how to play. It was something hard not to pick up when your father is a professional hockey player. I think that angered Dad more than anything. He spent years trying to show my sister and I how to play his game. We learned and learned well, but when it came time to actually putting what we learned to practice, we both bowed out. My sister didn’t want the hassle, and me, well, I just wasn’t competitive enough. Plus, I didn’t like the idea of putting on skates and all that gear. I saw my father slammed about enough times that it scared me a bit too.

Hockey was a rough game, and I wanted no part in it.

Watching the team now, I could see they had some talent.

They moved on from their drills and were running a scrimmage. The coach had split the team into two, one was blue, one was silver. Each of their practice jerseys had crude numbers on them. I found myself watching Number 34---Dad’s old number. Whoever the kid was, he was really good. He was fast and light on his skates, weaving in and out. He was an impressive puck handler too but not overly greedy. He was the type of player that most coaches would dream of having. The other players on the opposite team were having trouble keeping up too, which made it all the more fun to watch.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be in here, it's a closed practice.”

Shit, I was caught.

Snapping around, I sought the source of the interruption.

Standing at the end of my bleacher was a tall redhead, about my age. He was wearing a Duncan High Hockey wind blazer and workout pants. He was holding a clipboard in one hand and his other was in a brace. Looks like he broke his wrist, probably the reason he wasn’t on the ice right now. There was something oddly familiar about this kid too.

Standing up, I quickly apologized.

The last thing I needed was to get banned from the rink.

I started to make a mad dash for the opposite end of my bleacher when…

“Maddie?”

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Why did this guy know my name?

Snapping around, I saw him start to approach me with a smile.

It was as he got closer, that I was finally able to put a name to the familiar face.

“Luke?”

The guy smiled big.

Holy crap, it was Luke. Wow. I hadn’t seen him in years. I never actually thought I’d see him in Duncan of all places either. Luke’s Dad and mine used to play for the same team back in the day. We used to sit next to one another a lot during the games. We weren’t “friends” in the normal sense because we didn’t hang out on a regular basis - he went to a different school - but we were buds I guess. He changed a lot in the last eight years too. The Luke I remember was a little on the pudgy side with a lot of freckles and glasses. The Luke before me was anything but fat, and his glasses were gone.

“As I live and breathe, Madison DuBois in the house.”

I rolled my eyes. “Luke Malone.”

I sat back down, he did the same.

“How the hell are you?”

“Getting busted apparently?”

He laughed. “I think for you, I’ll make an exception.”

“Good, I still have dirt on you.”

His smile vanished. “That’s not fair.”

I shrugged then laughed.

“So what brings you to this fine establishment?”

“I was going to ask you the same. The last I knew, you guys were still in Buffalo.”

He smirked. “Believe it or not, it was Dad.”

I was not expecting that.

“After Dad retired, your Dad called him out of the blue,” Luke continued. “Told him he had some connections here and he got Pop a job as the coach for the school team.”

I turned to the ice and squinted.

Wait, the coach was Luke’s Dad.

How had I missed that?

“I was sorry to hear about your Dad, we wanted to go to the funeral, but money is a bit tight right now.”

I shook my head. “It's ok, I’m sure Dad understood.”

The funeral was a bit of a madhouse anyway. There were so many people there, I’m sad to say I wouldn’t have noticed Luke even if I tried. Well over a hundred people shook my hand that day. All of them had really good things to say about Dad. I only remember some of it, most of the day was a blur. It was still numbing to think about. Dad was young, barely forty. You just can’t prepare for something like that until it happens. Even four months later...

“So what brings you back here?” asked my old friend after a slight silence.

“We moved back. Grandma is getting up there in age, and well, Mom wanted a change of scenery.”

He nodded. “I can understand that. I’m not sure I’d want...”

He trailed off, realizing it was probably a sore subject.

It might have only been a couple of months ago, but I was ok talking about it now.

Just as well, he changed topics.

“You going to try out for the team?”

I laughed. “Aren’t you guys in the middle of your season now?”

He shrugged and raised his hand. “They’re one man short; they could use the help.”

Luke knew I could play. We used to have little matches in the parking lot. A bunch of us Hockey kids participated. I was mediocre at best but Luke was really good if I remembered. He must have been if he was on the team now.

“So I don’t suppose your sister is here too?” he asked, looking around.

Oh, I forgot about that part.

Luke always had the biggest crush on Allie. She never really gave him the time of day though because, well, she was shallow even back then. I also remembered that he was her age. So given the way he looked now, Allie would definitely go for him. Not that I was going to tell him that. It wasn’t my job to play matchmaker. Besides I’m not sure I wanted to saddle Luke with her kind of responsibility. Allie was a handful. Most of her boyfriends in the past had dumped her because she was too demanding and VERY high maintenance. I pitied whatever fool she roped in.

I shook my head. “She went to the mall.”

He sighed, disappointed.

Poor guy. He still had a thing for her.

I was about to say something more about it when a whistle blew. I jumped. Turning, I saw the team start to make their way off the ice. One by one, the players started to disappear. Then Luke’s Dad looked our way and frowned. He started walking over, looking grumpy.

“This is a closed practice, Miss,” he said directly to me.

Luke laughed. “Dad, you serious? You know who this is?”

His Dad got closer and his eyes got big. He laughed. “Madison? I’m sorry, son, from back there, you looked like...”

I waved him off. “I get it all the time, sir.”

“Madison and his family have moved back to town,” interrupted Luke, hoping to change the subject.

His Dad looked at me and frowned. “I’m sorry to hear about your Dad, he was a good friend. We tried to make it to the funeral...”

“I already apologized for that, Dad.”

His Dad laughed. He continued to stare at me then chuckled with a shake of his head. “You look so much like your Mom with that hair, I thought you were one of Luke’s little fan girls. They like to sneak in here from time to time. I'm sorry again for the mistake.”

“So, Coach,” I said, hoping to get him distracted. “You’ve got a good team this year.”

He smiled. “Would be even better with a DuBois. You interested, son?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t played in years.”

He frowned. “It's a shame. I don’t suppose your sister...”

I laughed. “She’s aggressive enough, but not likely.”

“Well, it was worth a shot.” He laughed again.

Luke’s Dad looked from him to me and back again. “Well, with this one out of commission, we’re down a man. If you change your mind, let me know.”

“Sure thing, sir.”

His Dad wandered off, shaking his head.

Luke sighed. “Sorry about that, Dad usually has a one-track mind and it's usually ALL about hockey.”

I shrugged it off. “I know the feeling.”

Luke and I talked a bit more. He asked me about school and if I was going to Central, like there were any other options. He was graduating this year, just like Allie. He asked me a lot more questions about her, and I did my best. I tried to keep the conversation away from her, but it kept going back there. He was still really hung up on her. It was sad really. I’m just glad he didn’t ask me for her number. I didn’t want to deal with that. Thankfully, I was saved by the text. Specifically, it was Mom, wondering where I was.

I cursed after I got it.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

I laughed. “I told Mom I was going to be at the library.”

I texted her back quick.

AT ARENA.

Mom’s reply was not surprising.

REALLY? MEET ME OUT FRONT.

SURE.

I looked at Luke. “Mom’s here to pick me up.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he said, “I want to say Hi.”

He followed me out of the bleachers and to the front door. We waited outside on a bench for a few minutes before Mom pulled up in the SUV. When she saw Luke, she was confused for a few seconds. When he came walking over with me, Mom smiled big.

“Lucas Malone!”

“Hey, Mrs. DuBois. Long time no see.”

“Wow!” Mom said under her breath, I wasn’t sure if he heard it or not.

From his blush, it was clear that he did.

I rolled my eyes. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Luke,” I said, getting into the passenger seat.

“You too, bud. I’ll see you Monday at school?”

“Sure.”

Luke waved as we started to pull away.

Mom laughed. “Luke sure has changed.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I barely recognized him.”

Mom was nodding. “So, the arena?”

I shrugged. “I got nostalgic. Went to Sally’s then wandered over there.”

“Uh huh,” said Mom, and things went quiet for a second. “So what’s with the lipstick?”

Lipstick?

I dropped the mirror and groaned.

My lips were bright red. No wonder Luke and his Dad looked at me funny.

Shit.

“It's red slushie!”

I tried rubbing my lips, but of course it was no use.

Damn it!

Mom laughed.

“It's not funny!”

“It's a little funny, honey”

I groaned. Luke must think I’m some kind of freak. This is not the way I wanted to start my time here in Duncan.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF