Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week we have a picture prompt. Here's the photo and the continuation of Buddy's story in First & Ten. Today we see things from Emmie's perspective.
“Pull over,” Emmie said, rising from her comfy seat on the tour bus.
“It’s bad enough you had us take this stupid road. Now you wanna stop?” Her manager, Stash, blocked her way. The bus slowed.“Yeah. In front of that barn.” Emmie grinned.
“You call that a barn? It looks more like a group outhouse.”
“Be quiet, Stash.”
The bus pulled into a nearby driveway. The driver opened the door
“Here you go, Miss Emerald.”
“Five minutes! You’ve got five minutes!” Emmie was on the ground heading for the building before Stash could utter another word. She tramped through the tall weeds, running her hand along the rough side where paint peeled.
It hasn’t changed. Her mind drifted back to college days at Kensington State. In those days she was just “Emmie, Buddy’s girl.” She and Buddy would steal away sometimes when he didn’t have football practice. His wheezy, old car took them here. Emmie packed a picnic. They’d eat and share their dreams by the banks of the river.
The first time it rained, they took shelter in the old barn. Buddy made love to her there. She sighed at the memory of his tender touch.
“No one makes love like Buddy,” she mumbled to no one. One peek inside and she spied their initials, where Buddy had scratched them into the wood. The barn became their secret place to be alone.
The crunching of someone pushing through dried brush took her attention.
“What’s so great about this dump, anyway?” Stash asked, a freshly lit cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
"It’s Buddy, isn’t it?”
"You don't get it."
"Puppy love," he snorted.
She raised her hand to slap him, but Stash was too quick. He clutched her wrist and squeezed.
"You're hurting me."