A Life Saving Decision

I was on my way to a meeting when Laura called.

“Hey, girlfriend, I’m in town and have an hour to kill. Want to meet me for coffee?”

Running late and with a to-do list longer than the Santa Fe Trail, I decided what the heck. It wouldn’t hurt anything if I missed the meeting.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Great,” she said. “I’ll grab a booth.”

I made a left at the next light and hit the bank’s drive-thru. At least I could get one thing off my to-do list.

I began to relax as I waited in line at the bank. The historical society met on the second floor of the County Museum and, as they were having an open house this morning, finding a place to park would have been a real hassle.

“Morning, Liz,” the teller said as I passed my check through the slot. “Cash or deposit?”

“Morning,” I said returning the greeting. I started to say ‘deposit’ but changed my mind at the last minute. “Give me $40 in cash and deposit the rest.”

“You got it,” she smiled.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d been dreading today’s meeting until I suddenly didn’t have to go. Laura and I usually went Dutch but today I was buying as a thank you for giving me an excuse to skip the meeting.

Jean handed me my receipt and $40, all fives I noticed. She knew me so well.

“Thanks, Jean. Have a nice day.”

“You, too, Liz.”

Laura was just sliding into the front booth when I walked in.

“Hi,” she said. “Great timing.”

“I’m on a roll,” I returned.

The waitress brought menus but we waved her off.

“Just sweet tea and a piece of coconut pie,” I told her. “And whatever she’s having. Bring me the check.”

Laura gave me a curious look and said, “You sure? I was planning to eat.”

“Eat away,” I told her. “You put me in a good mood so I’m buying.”

“Then I’ll have sweet tea and a piece of coconut pie, too,” she told the waitress.

“Coming right up,” she said and scurried off to seize our pie before it was all gone. Desserts didn’t last long at the diner.

“Not that I’m complaining,” she began, “but why are you appropriating both checks?”

“Your invitation,” I said as the waitress delivered our pie and drinks. “I hadn’t realized how much I was dreading today’s historical society meeting until I wasn’t going. So, consider this my way of saying ‘thanks’.”

“My pleasure, and thanks for the pie,” she said taking a bite of the best coconut pie in the county. “This is delicious.”

“Don’t I know it,” I agreed. “Remember, I still live here.”

She smiled and took another bite.

“Okay, so why didn’t you want to go to the meeting?”

“You’re more fun and it’s been a while since we got together.”

“Besides that.”

“We meet on the second floor of the museum and they’re having an open house at the same time. Parking will be a pain.”

“And?”

“And you know me too well.”

“Yes, I do, so give.”

“They’re bringing in some new exhibit. Going to be presented by some Big Wig from the State Legislature.”

“Not what’s-his-name who’s been in the news for the past couple of weeks?” she said. “I heard he was involved in some kind of scandal.”

“Yeah, he’s the one, but I can’t think of his name off the top of my head.”

“Not to worry. I’m sure you’ll see his name in the headlines a lot more over the next few weeks. I’ve heard he’s looking at possible prison time.”

“That’s what I heard. I guess I’m just not into guilt by association.”

“Then you think it’s that bad?” she asked.

“I don’t know. With all the hate and discontent these days, it’s hard to say.”

We finished our pie and signaled for refills on the tea. Laura filled me in on her latest book illustration project and I updated her on my next murder mystery. Just as she started to tell me about a possible new client, a loud explosion shook the diner. We heard people yelling from down the street and within seconds, sirens. Lots of sirens.

“Oh, dear,” Laura cried jumping up. “What was that?”

“I don’t know, but it sounded close,” I said as I ran from the diner.

Laura was right behind me.

The street was filled with people running and screaming. Black smoke was billowing from the next block in the direction of the museum.

“Oh my God,” I said, my knees almost buckling. “The museum!”

First responders, police, fire, and ambulances began converging on the scene. By-standers were moved back, making way for emergency personnel.

I tried not to think of my friends and acquaintances who were probably in the building when the explosion happened.

“My phone,” I said, “I need my phone,” and ran back to the diner. All the patrons were outside and the staff were hovering around the door trying to see what was happening.

I slide into our booth and grabbed my phone, speed-dialing my daughter as I did so.

She answered on the first ring. “Mom! Are you all right? Someone said the museum blew up. We heard the explosion all the way across town.”

“Yes, Honey,” I said, beginning to cry. “I’m fine. I skipped the meeting. Laura’s in town and we’re at the diner.”

She said she’d post my safety on Face Book but to text her when I got home.

When I hung up, Laura was sitting across from me, holding my hands. Both of us were breathing hard but said nothing for a few minutes.

Finally I said, “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Saving my life. If you hadn’t called …” and my voice trailed off.

“Don’t think about it,” she said.

Easier said than done, I thought.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. People were rescued, treated or transported to the ER, and state investigators showed up to began piecing it all together.

Amazingly, there were no deaths and the Big Wig, I never did get his name, was the only one seriously injured. Even he was released from the hospital after just a couple of days.

The investigators’ report, such as it was, was released the following week. The explosion had been caused by a homemade bomb and the investigation was ongoing.

For myself, I couldn’t stop thinking about how close I’d come to being there. If Laura hadn’t called … If I’d told her ‘No’ and gone to the meeting…