The jumbotron.
I can’t think about being on the big screen without remembering the moments after when, in an arena of twenty thousand people, it felt like August and I were alone in an electric bubble. Each moment I’ve ever spent in his company had played through my mind, and I’d cherished every one. The kind, funny, thoughtful man should have seemed at odds with the feral competitor on the floor, but he wasn’t. All the disparate parts fit snugly and rightly to form this man I desperately want to know better.
And maybe now I will.
It’s an ill-timed thought, but I’d be lying if I didn’t at least admit to myself that with things over between Caleb and me, there will be something with August. Even if I don’t pursue it, he will. The knowledge sends a tiny thrill through me.
“Um, ma’am, your card has been declined.” The awkward phrase snatches me from my thoughts.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” I glance from the black card extended between his two fingers to the frown on his face. “Are you sure? There’s no limit on it.”
“Right. It’s a Black card, but …” He hesitates, his eyes speculative. “This card has been reported stolen.”
“Stolen?” The word emerges loud and harsh in the quiet lobby, garnering the attention of two people at the other end of the desk also checking in.
“That’s impossible,” I say in a softer voice.
“We can’t use this card.” His voice stiffens. “Did you have another we can try?”
“Uh, yes.” I reach into my wallet and hand him my debit card. “Here you go. I know that one is fine. I’ll have to call about the other one to figure it out.”
My words trail off when his brows bunch into a frown, and he glances at me suspiciously. “This one doesn’t work either.”
“That can’t be right because I …”
Both of those cards, though in my possession and I’ve used them a hundred times, are technically in Caleb’s name. Caleb’s accounts. He may not be on my tail with high-beam lights, but he’s chasing me nonetheless.
I extend my hand, requesting the card back. He reluctantly gives it to me like I might be running some elaborate fraud operation.
“It’s a misunderstanding,” I assure him. “You take cash?”
He nods, but still looks doubtful. I flip through the compartments of my wallet, searching for cash.
Dammit. Nachos and parking at the game took most of my cash. I only spy a solitary ten-dollar bill.
I don’t have enough money for a room, and I don’t have enough gas to make it all the way to Mama’s house in Atlanta or to Lotus’s place in New York. If we were speaking, which we aren’t. I don’t even know her new address there.
I can’t just stand here while the attendant decides if he should call the cops or kick me out. I avoid his eyes, shift Sarai in my arms and walk back out to the car. My purse, overnight bag, and Sarai’s diaper bag weigh me down, but not nearly as much as the reality of my situation. Caleb shut down my cards. Knowing I’m out with his daughter in the middle of the night, he shut down my cards. Maybe I should have waited until the morning, but getting away from him was urgent. Something in his eyes told me to escape while I could.
I’m driving somewhat aimlessly, unsure where to go and what I can afford to do, when flashing blue lights and the “blip” of a police siren grab my attention. For a moment, I wonder who they’re pursuing, but I’m the only one on the road.
Dammit. Those blue lights are for me. Fuck my life. Could this night get worse?
With my heart hammering, I pull off to the shoulder. I was distracted, so maybe I was speeding. I roll down my window, already wearing the practiced self-deprecating smile reserved for traffic stops.
“Officer, I’m sorry if I—”
“Out of the car, ma’am.” His clipped words take me aback.
“What … was I speeding? A busted taillight? What’s going on?”
I’m still trying to process everything when two more police cars pull in, lights flashing and cops climbing out cautiously as if this is America’s Most Wanted.
“This vehicle and license plate match the description of a car reported stolen.” The officer glances in the back seat. “And reported in a child abduction.”
“Abduction?” The word blasts from my mouth like a rocket. Anger clenches my hands into tight balls. “What the hell is going on? My daughter is safe, sleeping in the back seat.”
“Ma’am, please step out of the vehicle with your hands raised.”