James Grippando - Found money

She backed away, surprised. “I can’t take your money.”

“It’s not much. Like I said, the government took a big cut. The FBI, the IRS. Do you have any idea what the penalties are for taxes that should have been paid over twenty years ago? Turns out my dad had quite a few other debts, too. Off-track gambling was apparently quite a weakness for him. Me, my sister, and my ex-wife split what was left three ways. Out of the original five million, I’m left with exactly six hundred and forty-two bucks.”

Amy almost giggled, then brought a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I think that’s so funny.”

“Because you can finally look back and laugh at all this. I was hoping that would be the case.”

Their eyes met and held. It could have been an awkward moment, but it wasn’t. Finally, Amy said, “So, you’re really divorced now?”

“Yeah, thank God. Looking back on it, it’s amazing we lasted as long as we did. Not sure what we had in common. Guess it’s like they say, opposites attract.”

“Only if you’re a magnet.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled.

“Of course, if you want a more instructive scientific analogy, the true opposites in our universe are called matter and anti-matter. Whenever they come into contact, they shoot off deadly gamma rays and instantly annihilate each other.”

“Now you’re showing off, Dr. Parkens.”

“I guess I am.” She glanced over her shoulder toward Taylor. She was doing the five-year-old version of tapping her foot, waiting. “I should get back to my daughter.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to hold you up.”

“Not at all.” She clutched the paper bag, then looked at Ryan with soulful eyes. “This was… a nice gesture. But please, keep your money. I don’t think I’m any more entitled to it than you are.”

“Just take it. After going back to school, you can use it, I’m sure.”

“Believe me, I’d still need the life expectancy of a redwood to pay off those debts.”

Gently, she pushed it back toward him, touching his hand lightly. “Thanks for coming all the way up here. And you take care of yourself.” She turned away slowly.

“Hey.”

She glanced back one last time.

Ryan shrugged, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“Good luck to you, Amy.”

She smiled sadly, feeling chills as she walked away. She was too confused to say whether she was glad he had come. But it didn’t warm her heart to pull herself away.

“Can I put on your robe, too?” Taylor was tugging on her sleeve.

“After we take some pictures.”

“Okay!” said Taylor, almost squealing.

Amy took her daughter’s hand and started toward the lawn. She didn’t want to be obvious, but as they passed the last stadium exit she checked to see if Ryan was still around. She glanced left, then right. He was gone.

“Mommy, why don’t you look happy-faced like everybody else?”

“I’m very happy, sweetheart. Let’s take pictures.”

They flowed with the crowd toward a picturesque spot with the mountains in the background. On a bench near the stadium, she noticed the paper sack just sitting there. It was definitely Ryan’s, but she didn’t dare touch it. She turned and, through the crowd, saw the back of his head. He was walking the other way. She hurried to catch up, pulling Taylor by the hand. “Ryan!” she called. “Dr. Duffy!”

He stopped and turned.

Amy said, “I think you forgot something, didn’t you?” With her eyes, she pointed back to the paper bag resting on the bench. But Ryan’s eyes remained fixed on her.

“Actually, I did forget something. I forgot to remind you. We never did get that second cup of coffee at the Green Parrot.”

Her mouth opened, but there was a few seconds’ delay. “That’s, uh, true.”

“You think maybe we could fix that?”

She smiled with her eyes, recalling their first meeting and how she had wanted to say yes when he’d asked if he might see her again. Instead, she had said something coy like You never know. This time she wanted to do better. “I’d like that,” she said. “I’d like that a lot. In fact, I know a place not too far from here.”

“I can follow.”

“Okay,” she said happily.

“Lead on.”

They started down the sidewalk together, Ryan on the left, Amy and her daughter on the right. They had to retrace their steps past the bench where Ryan had left the money. The paper sack, however, was already gone. Two young graduates were engaged in heated conversation. The short guy was holding the bag. The other was trying to take it from him.

“We have to turn it in,” said the taller one. “It doesn’t belong to us.”

“It’s cash,” snapped the other. “Found money. Finders keepers.”

Their voices rose as the argument intensified. People were starting to gather round them and gawk, as if anticipating a fistfight.

Amy and Ryan exchanged knowing glances as they passed the commotion, but neither said a word. She struggled not to burst out laughing. He grinned and shook his head.

Their smiles only widened as they kept right on walking.