Their Unfinished Business

THE sun was hot for mid-May, but Ali tipped back her head as she knelt in the small flower bed that ringed her mailbox and took a moment to enjoy the way it felt on her face. Northern Michigan's winters were always long, especially when lake-effect storms were added in. This winter had felt interminable. Just a few weeks earlier the last of the snow had finally melted from the woods that bordered the northern edge of her property. Trillium, the three-petaled flower for which the Lake Michigan island was named, bloomed there now, offering a much warmer carpet of white.It was Sunday, which meant she had just three days to reconcile herself to seeing Luke again. Shewasover him, no matter what Audra seemed to think. But he'd been Ali's first love, which made him impossible to forget. And he'd left her behind after three years of dating without a second thought, which made his desertion impossible to forgive. So of course the prospect of seeing him again had her on edge. That was only natural.It didn't help that Audra had ideas for this reunion that clearly went beyond business. In the past week, her twin had hinted broadly that Ali might want to do something with the shoulder-length hair she always wore pulled into a simple ponytail. And she had tried to convince Ali to wear more fashionable clothing than the conservative button-down blouses and straight, below-the-knee skirts that populated her wardrobe.Ali ignored the unsolicited advice. This was business, not a social call. She wasn't going to doll herself up for Luke Banning's return. No, indeed.Indifference, that's what Wednesday's meeting called for. Nonchalance.Ali yanked a weed out of the flower bed and tossed it atop the small heap of wilting interlopers next to her, warming to her strategy.She would be ruthlessly polite and exceedingly casual when she and Luke were finally face-to-face. She would show him, Audra and everyone else who thought otherwise that the past was ancient history, and that the fact he'd spent the past decade in New York City growing wealthy and respected and enjoying the tabloid-documented attentions of supermodels and liposuctioned socialites was of absolutely no concern to her.She snatched up her gardening trowel and hacked at the hard ground with its daggerlike metal point.On Wednesday, she would be professional and businesslike. She would be cordial, but in a detached --hack! hack! --and disinterested --hack! hack! --way.She swiped at the sweat beading on her brow and then set aside the trowel so she could wrap her fist around the base of another weed. As she knelt there locked in an intense tug-of-war with a deep-rooted dandelion, she heard the motorcycle. The mere sound of the engine reeled her back in time, as it always did, resurrecting the bittersweet memories she'd just convinced herself were safely buried and of no threat to her emotional well-being.Even as her heart seemed to kick out an extra beat, she told herself she was being foolish. It wasn't Luke.It couldn't be Luke.She still had three days, nearly seventy-two hours, before she would see him again. Besides, he wouldn't still be driving a damned motorcycle after all these years. He probably traveled in a limousine, a stretch one so long it would barely fit on the ferry that brought vehicles over from the mainland.But as she shielded her eyes from the sun with one grimy hand, a Harley Davidson Sportster crested the hill and rumbled into view.In the years he'd been gone, sightings of Trillium Island's most famous son seemed to be about as common as sightings of Elvis, and they'd proved to be as reliable. There was no mistaking the Harley rider's identity, though, especially since he was flouting state law by forgoing a helmet.Even with the space of thirty yards and the span of more than a decade separating them, Ali knew him at a glance. Wind ruffled the almost-black hair she'd once run her fingers through. He was weaBraun, Jackie is the author of 'Their Unfinished Business', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373039012 and ISBN 0373039018.