I laugh under my breath. I should have known she’d pounce on that like a cat on caffeine.
“All right,” I say, settling back. “It was last Friday night. I couldn’t shut my head off, so I decided to drive for Uber. Just me, the road, and the city lights.”
Queenie nods. “You always did treat the open road like therapy. Go on.”
“I get a ride request… this girl, Marley. She gets in the car, and…” I blow out a slow sigh, “… she’s crying, falling apart. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. So I cranked up the stereo, loud enough to drown out the sound of her tears.”
Queenie smirks, knowingly. “You serenaded her?”
“I tried,” I say, chuckling. “Started singing, totally off-key, hoping she would at least stop crying long enough to tell me to shut up. But she didn’t. She just… joined in. There we were, two strangers at a red light, carpool-karaokeing our hearts out to eighties power ballads.”
Queenie lets out a cackle that sounds like pure joy. “Now that’s a sight my old tired eyes would like to have seen.”
I grin. “She wasn’t all dressed up. No tight dress or high heels, just casual, kinda quirky clothes. Glasses. Arealwoman. She looked like herself, not some version she thought she had to be.” I pause. “She told me her boyfriend, now her ex, dumped her because she’d put on weight. The fucker said she wasn’t the right image for him.”
Queenie’s eyes narrow. “What a poor excuse for a carbon footprint. What’s his name? I wanna talk to him… with a brick.”
I fight back my smirk. “Yeah, figured you’d say that. Anyway, I could tell she probably hadn’t eaten. You know that hollow look people get when they’ve been crying too long? So, I pulled into a drive-thru. Got her a burger, fries, and a milkshake.”
“Smart man,” Queenie murmurs, proud, tightening her grip on my hand.
“She tried to refuse at first, said she wasn’t hungry. So I told her no one gets to make her feel self-conscious about her body, especially not some douche with an ego problem. I said she looked too damn good to be apologizing for it.”
Queenie smiles, slow and satisfied, as though she’s tasting something sweet. “And did she eat?”
“Yeah.” My voice softens. “Half the fries, most of the shake. All of the burger. But more importantly, she was smiling again before I dropped her off. Sent me this note and a tip big enough to make me feel guilty. Said I made her believe in human decency again.”
Queenie’s watching me with a proud gaze. “And now you can’t stop thinking about her.”
“I had Ghost run a background check,” I admit. “I know she visits The Grind Coffee Shop every morning before work. But the bad shit I found out is that her ex isn’t just her ex, he’s her boss. She has to face him every day at work. She lived in the house he owns. She’s trapped, Queenie. And I just… I need to know she’s okay.”
“Uh-huh.” The knowing look intensifies. “And that’s theonlyreason you’re checking up on her? Just concern for her safety?”
I open my mouth to confirm, but the words won’t come. Because she’s right, there’s more to it than that. “I don’t know,” I finally say. “How can I even feel anything after meeting someone once? That’s batshit crazy, right?”
Queenie squeezes my hands. “Oh, honey. Sometimes, the most important people walk into our lives when we least expect them. Doesn’t matter if it’s been one day or one year, when you know, you know.”
“But Idon’tknow,” I protest. “That’s the problem. I just know I can’t stop thinking about her. About whether she’s safe. About that look in her eyes when she thanked me.”
“And you want to see her again.”
I hesitate. “Maybe… yeah.”
Queenie leans back, studying me with that sharp gaze that sees right through all my bullshit. “Then what are you waiting for? You know where she gets her coffee. Go introduce yourself properly. But Damon?” Her voice turns serious. “Don’t scare her. Don’t come on too strong. Just… be yourself. The good man I raised you to be.”
“But what if she doesn’t even remember me? What if I’m just some Uber driver who was nice to her this one time?”
“Then you’ll know. And you’ll move on. But Damon, honey, are you really going to let fear stop you from finding out?”
I think about Marley’s face in my rearview mirror. The way her tears caught the streetlights. The note she left me. The feeling in my gut that’s been screaming at me for three days.
That. She. Matters.
“No,” I say finally. “I’m not going to let fear stop me.”
Queenie beams with pride. “That’s my boy. Now, when are you going to see her?”
“Tomorrow morning. Seven a.m. The Grind Coffee Shop.”
