Chapter 1
Joanne
You know what sucks?
A twenty-hour plus drive from Las Vegas to Iowa. I remembered when I used to drive around with my friends for hours and it was no big deal. Now as I head toward age thirty I couldn’t think of a worse fate than being crammed into a car for hours and not able to get out whenever I wanted to stretch my legs and my mind.
The scenery had faded very quickly from mountains and desert to nothingness and farms. The flat land was interrupted by the occasional hill and was dotted with cows, horses, and cornfields.
Ah, home sweet home.
I hadn't seen Iowa since I was sixteen. That was when I'd saved up just enough and moved in with a few friends that I'd met in California. The ocean and sunny beaches and the upscale shops had called to me. It was freedom, unbridled and uncomplicated and I'd loved living there. Although now that was years ago as well.
I shuddered and placed my hands in front of the heater. It seemed like it was on its last legs, coughing and sputtering its dying breaths as the cold invaded my small car. I tried to rub my hands between my jeaned thighs but that didn't help much.
"Shit," I muttered.
I still wasn't home. I'd made it into Iowa a while ago, but Wakelin was still a ways off. The more the cold encroached on me, the more I realized how much I hadn't missed it.
I need some coffee.
Actually, I'd kill for some coffee. I'd driven all the way from Las Vegas, almost fifteen hundred miles. My legs were tired, my eyes burned and if I didn't see the inside of my car for several weeks I'd be a happy camper. I knew that wasn't possible though. I had to get back to the desert and go back to work. This was just a task that had to be completed.
I'd found out my mother had died a week ago. In that time they'd had her funeral and put her in the ground, but I hadn't gone. We hadn't been close. There was no hate, because there was never any love, but we were cold to each other.
I had wanted the mother everyone else had. The one that kissed your boo-boos and told you everything would be okay. My mother was the type to slap you upside the head, tell you to grow the fuck up, and then go find somewhere to shoot up. I'd endured an endless stream of abuse from her, as well as the worthless losers that accompanied her, and somehow I'd made it out mostly unscathed.
I could honestly say it was the reason I didn't date. Who had time to fall in love when there were more important things to do? I loved my career. I'd become a nanny to give kids the love that I never received, but sometimes working for all of those diamond-studded parents jaded me. They were just as bad as my mother, only they had the cash to support their habits.
"At the next turn make a right," my Google maps rang.
"Yes," I said as I bounced in my seat. "Almost there."
I'd forgotten the specifics to getting back to the two-story house that my mother had inherited from her parents. She'd kept the tradition and passed it on to me, but I didn't want it. The place was filled with violence, sadness, and heartbreak. The only reason I was back was so that I could tidy it up, sell it, and get the hell away from Iowa again.
I glanced at my phone. I was only twenty minutes or so out. Not that much longer and I’d be soaking up the heat and away from the terrible roads.
I turned the corner and peered through the windshield. It had started to snow and my windshield wipers weren’t too happy about it as they were bogged down with the white fluff.
My car started shaking and suddenly it stalled out completely. I stared at it in shock when it came to a halt and the heat cut off altogether. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Okay, let's try that again."
I turned the key and the car tried to start before it stalled again. I scoffed.
You have to be fucking kidding me.
The last thing I needed was for my car to stall when I was so close to being home. I peered out of the windshield. The snow was getting worse and I was stuck inside of a car with no heat—what heat there was confined inside was minimum and I knew it would fade right away.
"Come on. Come on," I prayed as I tried to get it to start up again.
The car did nothing and seemed to look back at me as if it was accusing me of being a jerk. Yeah, fifteen hundred miles was a long way to go, but it wasn't a good reason to stall out.
I told my car that, but it didn't help anything. I sighed.
I slipped out of my car and dug around in the backseat. I found a pair of gloves and slipped them on before I tightened my jacket around my shoulders. It wasn't nearly thick enough, but I didn't think I'd get stranded. I figured I’d be somewhere with heating no matter where I went.
That's what I get for thinking I knew what was going to happen.
I walked to the front of the car and opened the hood. As I peered inside I pretended that I knew what the various hoses and parts did. I had no clue. Besides putting gas in, fixing a tire and changing my oil, I was completely clueless. I leaned back and sighed as I ran a hand over my face. That was all I needed. A busted car, only a little amount of cash, and the freezing cold.
I stared down the street, but I already knew it would be too long of a walk. If I tried to make it to my mom's place I would probably lose a few fingers and toes along the way. I might have forgotten how bitterly cold Iowa winte
rs could be, but standing outside for a few minutes reminded me with a vengeance.
"Well I can't stand around here all day," I muttered to myself.
I walked back around and dug around in my car. My phone showed a very low number of bars and I held it up as I tried to get a signal. My feet crunched through the snow and I cursed the fact that I'd decided on my sneakers instead of boots for comfort while I drove. My feet had already started to freeze.
I climbed back inside of the car instead of standing out in the elements. At least it cut down on the wind from whipping in my face. I scrolled through my phone as I looked for a tow truck. A few numbers popped up and I tried to call one.
"Murray's."
"Oh thank you," I sighed. "I'm stuck on Miller and Court. Could you come and pick me up? My car won't start and it's freezing."
"Ma'am? I can barely hear you."
"I'm stuck on Miller and Court," I shouted. "Can you come and get me, please?"
"You're breaking up real bad."
I groaned. "Can you hear me?"
"Try calling me back."
The guy, who I assumed was Murray, hung up the phone and I stared at mine.
Shit.
I couldn't do anything but sit there and try to call him again. Every time I got through however, we had the same problem. He couldn't hear me and I could barely hear him over the static-filled connection. I tried to call him once more and my phone beeped and showed me the low battery sign.
"Please," I mumbled. "Don't do this to me. Come on."