Page 11 of Highway To Destiny

It was Ruthie who greeted me as I descended from my rig. When I stepped down, she already had her arms out for a big greeting hug. I loved that woman. She was like the mom I’d lost many, many years ago, and her embrace was strong and inviting. I glanced over her shoulder as I hugged her back and noticed Elmer standing in the doorway with a broad smile and a raised hand.

I released her, and she stepped back with her hands on my arms. She looked me up and down with her twinkling eyes, then furrowed her brow and said, “You look thin, dear.” I tipped my head back in laughter, then smiled down at her.

“Oh, Ruthie, you say that just about every time you see me. I know it’s just motherly love you’re exuding, but I’m the same weight I’ve been for years.” She gave me an approving wink and hooked her arm through mine as we headed to the back of the truck.

“I haven’t seen you since this past Spring, I think,” she said once I unlatched the door.

“I was here just before the fall semester started at the university. You stayed home that day, according to Elmer. He said you weren’t feeling well and wanted to rest up some,” I said as I swung the door open. “I assume you’re doing okay now, and all is good with your health?” I questioned as I glanced her way, with not too much concern in my voice.

It was her turn to laugh. “Yes, of course, dear. It was one of those weeks dealing with family, the store, and gearing up for the upcoming onslaught of students. I’m a sturdy sort, hon. Not much can hold me down for long.”

“Okay,” I said, looking back at her as I pulled a couple of crates from the trailer. “I don’t want to have to pump Elmer for information about you.” I gave her a wink.

She threw up her hands in a quick motion and huffed. “That man of mine can be such a worry wart sometimes, especially if I’m feeling a bit stressed. I’m fine and doing very well, Mason.” I looked down at her with my head bowed and a raised brow. “Stop. I’m good. Seriously,” she said gently with a smile.

I threw my arm around her. “Alright, no more badgering,” I said.

“Let me go get you your favorite soda, and I’ll open the back door for you,” she said as she padded off into the store.

There were quite a few crates, and I needed to make about six or seven trips with the hand dolly to get them into the storage room. Taking my time, I organized and stacked them carefully before heading into the store to wish them a happy holiday season. Ruthie handed me my usual soda and gave me another motherly hug. Elmer and I chatted a bit about the mediocre season my favorite football team was having, and as usual, Ruthie brought up the subject of my love life.

“How are you spending your holidays, Mason? Any special lady-friend to snuggle with on a cold night?” Ruthie asked. I laughed.

“No, not really, Ruthie, the road is my holiday mistress. I just took a long vacation at my condo in Crescent City, caught up with friends, and now I’m making up that lazy time back on the road.”

They both laughed as we said our goodbyes and wished me safe travels. Along with friends in Crescent City, they knew I was a widower, and I think that was why Ruthie always hinted at someone special in my life.

After the drive that morning,unloading and reorganizing the freight in my trailer, I was starving, and it was going on early afternoon. I remembered there was a diner not far from the university where I could grab a quick bite before I headed out. It was Friday, the end of the week, but I wanted to stay ahead of schedule and try to make my next delivery by the following afternoon. I’d always made it a point to courteously inform my next delivery destination when I would arrive with their freight, usually by text or phone call.

I parked my truck a couple of blocks from the diner, threw on my jacket, and walked briskly to the establishment. The diner sat on a corner, with windows lining both sides and an entrance angled toward the street corner. Inside, the décor was classic diner style, with booths on one side, tables on the other, and a counter with vinyl-upholstered stools that divided the space. The color scheme screamed red, black, and white—red vinyl upholstery at every table and a checkerboard-tiled floor gave it a distinct 1950s vibe. There was even a jukebox playing contemporary pop hits at a reasonable volume.

A sign on a chrome-plated pole as I walked in read,Please seat yourself. I noticed the diner was a little over half full and decided to allow myself the comfort of a booth.

Within a couple of minutes, a young, uniformed waitress, probably a student, brought me a menu with a smile and asked what I’d like to drink. I glanced up and said, “Coffee, black, please.” She nodded, turned, and headed behind the counter. I perused the menu and decided on a chicken salad sandwich with a cup of tomato soup, figuring that would satisfy me until a late dinner.

I put the menu down and looked up as the diner door opened, and Connor walked in.

10

CONNOR

The sexy trucker was sitting in a booth to my left, facing me.Is this kismet, or am I just seeing things?My breath hitched, and my heart raced. When our eyes connected, I froze. What could only have been a few seconds seemed like minutes before I slowly gave a big smile. He did the same.

I had finished my early morning workout with Spencer, but we both had mid-morning classes that lasted until shortly after noon. I figured I’d hit the same diner for lunch that we’d enjoyed a few weeks ago since my class was on that side of the campus. We hadn’t planned on meeting up again until later that evening to head to the kegger party together.

My brain urged my feet to move, but they refused to cooperate. Instead, I raised my hand in a wave, and my smile lingered as I took in the blue-eyed, handsome face before me. He held his bright smile and motioned me over.

There was no second-guessing, and I somehow knew the reunion was destined to happen. I was a firm believer in fate and what was meant to be, and my life so far had followed suit. My hope in meeting him made my pulse quicken.

He scooted out of the booth as I approached and stuck out his hand to shake mine. I took it firmly, and that same electric spark I’d felt before shot through me, sending goosebumps up my arm. “Hi, Connor,” he said. My knees grew weak as he spoke my name.

He remembers my name!

Our eyes stayed locked, unwavering, for a few seconds as we stood within each other’s space. My true hungering want was to grab him in a crushing hello hug, but I didn’t want to freak him out, not knowing if he was even a hugger, so I slowly took my hand from his as he invited me to sit across from him in the booth.

When I sat down, the waitress walked up to place a cup of coffee in front of him, along with a small bowl of single creamers and packets of sweetener. She asked if I wanted to see a menu, and I said, “Yes, please,” also asking for a glass of ice water.For some ungodly reason, my throat feels dry.

Mason chuckled. “Why is it that when you tell them you want a cup of black coffee, they still bring all the sides to ruin it?” he said as he shook his head and waved his hand over them. All I could do was stare at him.

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