lampshade

“Hey, Luke! This is the last- eww!” A family of silverfish skittered away from the overturned box, disappearing beneath the scattered contents and settling dust. Andy attacked the bugs with a handful of kleenex, turning over a stale packet of menthol lights and a worn leather wallet.

She shook a squirming thing out of the pages of a notepad, knocking over the miniature lamp still sitting in the box. She paused, tracing the well-worn inscription engraved along the base of the lamp. The letters were illegible, blurred through the years, but she’d long since memorized them. For you, kiddo. ~S.

“Baby, come on, yard sales are for getting rid of crap, not keeping it.” Luke frowned at the mess on the floor as he walked in from the garage.

“Just give me a se…minute.” She tried to shove him out the door, holding the lamp behind her.

“You still have that? Seriously, Andy, it’s time to forget about him. Our entire families are flying in for a wedding. Ours. Next week.”

“I know, I know, I just forgot I had it. Honest! See?” The lamp slipped from her fingers and smashed into the linoleum. “All gone.” She grinned at him.

“Cheeky to the end.” He shook his head and walked back out.

 Andy made a face and muttered under her breath as she bent to sweep up the lamp shards. “Meh meh meh! Look at me! I’m Luke!”  She snagged the lampshade to catch the debris and stopped, eyes widening, as something scrawled just inside the rim caught the sunlight slanting in through the blinds.

* * *

“Uh, hey is this for sale?” Luke glanced at the mismatched chess set. “Let me check real quick. Andy? Are we selling this?” … “Hang on a sec.” He walked back into the house. “Andy?” He frowned as he scanned the room. Closet, mess, broken lamp, note on the desk, no Andy. No Andy? He read the note. Sorry Luke, it has to be Sam after all. Don’t hate me. ~Andy. He blinked. The scribbled words in the upturned lampshade winked up at him from the floor. Love you, maybe. ~S.

Team Luke!

Team Sam!