“You better.” Celeste’s voice grew husky. “Drive safe and take care of my sweet Kallie.”
“I will.” Amy blinked back tears and gave her friend a one-armed hug before leaving.
“Amy, wait. I know you need time to heal from this but promise me you won’t lock your heart too tightly. Who knows, you might find love when you least expect it.”
Celeste had almost lost out on love because of stubbornness, but this wasn’t a promise Amy could make. She wouldn’t give her heart to a man unless she was sure he was committed to her. Since she couldn’t see that ever happening, she said the only thing she could.
“Bye, C. Love you.”
* * *
Providence,2 miles.
After four hours of mindless driving on the interstate with no clear destination in mind, Amy needed a break. She peered into the dark, seeing no lights, no signs of life.
Do I dare stop?
The caffeine she’d purchased when she gassed up had long since worn off. Her anger had dissipated about an hour ago when she crossed into southeastern Washington, leaving her physically and emotionally depleted. The hopelessness of her situation sunk in, and fear coiled like a snake in her gut. She’d been grateful for the cover of darkness while driving. The last thing she wanted was to see how aptly the barren landscape matched her circumstances.
How will I provide for Kallie without a job?
If she made it another hour and a half to Spokane, maybe she could find a women’s shelter to stay at until she got on her feet. Shoving a stick of gum in her mouth, she turned up the cool air and pressed harder on the gas pedal.
Her car stuttered and lost speed. Her gaze flew to the gas gauge. She still had a quarter tank. She pressed harder on the gas, but the car lurched and clanked. Her stomach lurched right along with the car. Gripping the wheel, she veered to the Providence exit.
Her shoulders knotted as her car continued to hesitate and decelerate, despite pressure on the gas.
Amy spotted lights in the distance. “Come on, just a little farther."
She clenched her jaw and tightened her grip on the steering wheel, as she crept down a dark main street. She didn’t dare stop without the prospect of help.
A sign for Knight’s Auto Repair shone like a beacon. She heaved a sigh as she pulled into the parking lot. Her car clanked again as it rolled to a stop under the Knight’s sign. Cringing, she released a groan and flexed her fingers.
Stifling a scream, Amy rested her forehead against the steering wheel. She couldn’t afford car problems. She couldn’t even buy food and diapers for her daughter.
She squeezed her eyes closed to stop the tears that threatened to fall, again. She already had a massive headache, besides more crying wouldn’t change anything.
What am I going to do?
* * *
“Mel!”Ben shot up in bed, gasping for air. The still air in the dark room lay heavy in his chest.
Heart racing, he dragged his hands over his face where tears mingled with beads of sweat. He’d almost touched them this time. Once again, he’d raced through a bizarre, ever-changing maze, repeatedly glimpsing his wife and daughter. They were so beautiful. So perfect.
Melanie often whispered his name in the nightmares, and sometimes Cassey giggled. No matter how hard he tried to reach them, they always disappeared, leaving him in despair.
He’d followed them into the void many times, but the darkness consumed him. Suffocated him. Every time, he woke up gasping for air.
He scowled at the bottle of sleeping pills on the nightstand. He didn’t take them often, but yesterday was Melanie’s birthday. He rarely had the nightmares when he took them, but they hadn’t worked this time.
Picking up the bottle, he hurled it at the wall.
He fell back and stared at the ceiling. No use trying to go back to sleep now. Without checking the clock, he knew it was almost five a.m. These dreams always occurred around the same time, and his overwhelming grief always made it impossible to find sleep again.
A flash of light streaked through his window, followed by a metallic clank. A car had pulled into the gas station and repair shop below his apartment, and judging by the sound, it had serious problems.
The slamming of a car door brought him from his bed. He pulled back the curtain in time to see a slim figure with blond hair slip into the backseat of an older model Ford Focus.
Yawning, he turned away from the window and dressed in his running clothes. Running was the best way to dispel the heaviness that clung to him after the nightmares.
The driver of the car would have to wait for the repair shop to open. He should be more concerned about the blonde’s misfortune, but he didn’t care about much of anything lately.
