If Mel was my father figure, then Margaret was probably my best friend. In over a year, I hadn’t made a single friend my age in the small Iowa town. I didn’t trust many people. I also worked hard at trying to quietly blend in. It was bad enough I was delivering pizzas, but I didn’t really socialize with the customers. Just dropped off their pizza, collected their money if needed, and left.
“No, we can’t. I’m leaving this afternoon.”
“Then when you get back,” I replied with a shrug. I was easy to please. It wasn’t like my calendar was full.
“I’m moving to Ankeny with Decker. I need to have surgery, and my doctor thinks it would be better if I was closer to family. Decker has limited time because his business is really busy right now. My daughter is in Florida, and her time off would only be temporary. With all that, it looks like I’ll be relocating. I’m so sorry. I’ll miss you something fierce, but maybe you could come visit,” she finished up with a hopeful lilt.
Chest caving, I fought the wave of loneliness that was slowly engulfing me. I wouldn’t be able to go visit her, because there was no way I could afford to take time off work. Losing everything and everyone that had been important in my life nearly eight years ago did a number on my head that I hadn’t realized until that moment.
“Oh. Wow” was all I could get out. “I didn’t know you needed surgery.”
She huffed before she grumbled, “Because I didn’t want to have it.”
When she didn’t elaborate on what type of surgery, I didn’t pry. After all, it wasn’t really my business.
Decker cleared his throat before he placed a key on the table. “Since your car is out of commission for now, Grams is leaving her SUV here for you to drive. We can pick it up once your car is ready.”
“What? No. That’s too much,” I argued and pushed the key back toward him. The truth was, I had no idea how long it would be before I could afford to fix my car or, God forbid, get a new one. I knew diddly shit about cars. Then again, I didn’t have any other option, and it would buy me a little bit of time. Maybe I could get a third job—go back to waitressing at the strip club in Spirit Lake.
They didn’t stay long before Decker was ushering her across the road again without a backward glance.
It shouldn’t have hurt, because I knew exactly what last night had been. He’d boldly told me in no uncertain terms that we were two consenting adults fucking each other’s brains out. There had been no whispered or implied promises of more, and I had greedily accepted whatever he’d been willing to give.
I told myself I was okay with things being that way, but as I stared out my bedroom window, I knew I was wrong. Watching them pull out and take off down the road felt like I was watching my future drive away.
Since I didn’t have my lesson with Ms. Margaret, I took the opportunity to get some laundry done, then went into work. The shitty weather that had been so out of character had disappeared, leaving behind sunny skies and melting snow.
“Of course. You couldn’t have done this yesterday before I wrecked my car, right?” I cursed the blazing sun.
On Saturdays, I did after-hours cleaning. I’d picked up the oil change business next to the bookkeeping office. I planned to use a bit of that extra money to treat myself to dinner and a movie, but I would add the rest to my meager savings. It would have to be put toward getting my car fixed as best as I could. As long as it ran, I’d be fine. It didn’t need to look pretty.
When I got home from work, the light over my back door was illuminating the back stairs. “What the hell?”
There was a note with a business card stuck to my door. The handwriting was bold and scrawled with a heavy hand.
Fixed your light. Come see me tomorrow about your car.
Snow
“The fuck?” I glanced up at the light again, then let myself inside and dropped my purse to the counter. Then I read the info on the business card.
“DS Customs?” I’d heard of them. There was no way I could afford anything they did. They specialized in custom bikes and cars. Not pieces of shit like my old beater. Tired beyond my twenty-six and a half years, I rested my forehead on the top cabinets and fought breaking down.
My phone rang, and I dug it out of my purse. The number was unavailable, but I thought it might be Ms. Margaret calling to let me know she’d gotten settled.
“Hello?”
When there was no one there, I figured it was one of those recorded calls. They always had that stupid delay when you first answered.
I’d wanted to soak in the tub, but I was too tired. I fell into bed and was out like a light.
The next day, bright and early, I was at DS Customs.
“Hello. My name is Loralei Barnes. I was told to stop by about my car?” I asked the guy behind the counter. He had dirty-blond hair and a million-dollar smile. His name tag read Hollywood, and I wanted to laugh at how fitting it was. Who knew that Podunk, Iowa had guys that were prettier than most movie stars?
I needed to get out more.
“Sure, but I’ve got bad news.” He grimaced, and my heart sank. Shit. I knew it.