“Outside of royally pissed off?”
“Yeah.”
“Just sore. No big deal.”
I pursed my lips, watching traffic pass by. “I don’t know that Rivers did this.”
“Doesn’t seem like his style, does it?”
“Not really. Drive by shooting, sure. Hit and run, not so much.”
She sighed deeply. “Just a shit accident. Just my luck.”
“I shouldn’t say it as it’s so trite.” I smiled. “I’ll say it, anyway. Could’ve been a lot worse.”
“I hate trite. It’s a dirty word.”
“So it is.”
In due course, the tow truck arrived and started to load the sedan onto its bed. I stood stiffly, helped Lindsey up, then strode toward the driver. “Can we get a lift?”
“Sure.”
In time, her car was loaded, and we three climbed into the cab of his tow truck. A tight fit for three people, and the driver himself owned an ample gut, but we didn’t have far to go. Fortunately. As he stopped the truck outside our houses, the driver handed Lindsey his card.
“This is where your car will be. Let the insurance adjuster know.”
“I will. Thanks for the ride.”
We descended from the crowded cab, and Lindsey stood on the sidewalk, watching him take her car away. “Dammit,” she muttered. “This sucks rocks.”
“I know. Come on. I hear the wine bottle calling us.”
Her head down, she trudged in my wake as I strode up her driveway to her front door. Once inside, I poured wine for us both, and half-listened as she called her insurance company. I handed her glass to her, then stepped onto her rear deck to sit and sip.
“They’re authorizing a rental,” she said, sitting beside me. “I won’t be stranded without a ride.”
“That’s good.”
In companionable silence, we sat together. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I had to wonder why events in our lives seemed to be driving us together. As if there was some universal force at play, pushing us into needing one another. If so, why?
“Do you believe in fate?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Lindsey replied, shooting me a sharp glance. “Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering why we’re being pushed into one another’s arms.”
“Are we?” Lindsey sipped from her glass.
“Seems that way.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s just bad luck. Yours in that Austin thinks you stole from him, mine in my car getting trashed. Shit happens.”
I rubbed my sore neck. “All at once?”
“Now I’ll be trite. When it rains it pours.”
“Yuck. That wasreallytrite.”
