The truck spluttered and coughed to life while the cab started warming up. After a quick check to make sure I had everything I needed, I pulled out, hoping this was quick and painless.
With Christmas carols still playing on the radio, I carefully navigated the roads. Even though the plows had been through, snowbanks lined either side of the road, a depressing, gray slush.
I came around the bend and my heart stopped.
My foot came off the accelerator.
“No!” I gasped.
The car up ahead on the shoulder of the road was one I’d recognize anywhere.
A black Cayenne balanced precariously on the side of the road facing the wrong direction.
I could see the woman behind the wheel, hunched forward.
I felt like I was going to vomit.
Vaulting from the truck, I ran toward the car ignoring the snow splattering my face or the puddles I stomped in.
I reached the car and couldn’t see any damage. I made my way to the driver's door, not really sure what I expected, tryingto prepare myself for anything. Holly had to be okay. There was no other option. She had to be. I needed her to be.
Slowly, I opened the door, Holly lifted her head, and her eyes met mine.
She was a mess. Mascara streaks ran down her cheeks, her eyes were red and puffy, and she was crying. Not just crying, sobbing. God-awful sobs wracking her body.
“Hey! Hey! Hey. What happened?” I asked, cupping her face in my hands.
There wasn’t a scratch on her and I finally felt like I could breathe. I glanced in the back seat, and Noelle looked frightened but unharmed.
“I … I … I …” Holly tried to get the words out, but every one caught in her throat until she spluttered.
I reached across and unbuckled her belt before turning her to face me. “Holly, you’re okay. Noelle’s okay. You’re both fine,” I attempted to reassure her.
“We’re not …”
“You’re okay. We can get your car out but you gotta tell me what happened? You’re facing the wrong way.”
I couldn’t figure it out. It didn’t make sense.
“We were turning around,” Noelle filled me in.
“Why? Was something wrong?” I asked, the worry almost paralyzing.
“I … I … I … made a mistake,” Holly managed to force out.
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“I did.” Holly pulled herself together. She straightened her spine, pushed the hair from her face, and wiped her cheeks on her sleeve. She was a mess, but she was strong at the same time. “I left without telling you something. I had to come back,” Holly started.
“Well, I’m here now,” I pointed out, my chest pounding.
“I don’t want to …” She glanced behind her at Noelle before reaching through the gap in the seats to hold her hand. “We don’t want to go without telling you something,” Holly declared.
If she said thank you again, I was going to punch something.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tried to convince her.
“I do. It was what I was trying to say but messed it up.”
