Sighing, I head to the loo for some cloths. I can’t let all that good work she did today go to waste.
peony
My car.
Not my car. Anything, anything but my car. It’s all I have besides this coat and the wallet in my back pocket.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. The Thrifty Mart is still open, so I run inside and nearly throw myself over the front counter.
“Where is my car?” I ask, gasping for air, whether because I just ran or because I think I might die.
They can’t have towed it. They can’t.
“Was that your car that’s been parked at the back of the lot for the last few weeks?” the attendant says, a round guy with a scrappy beard who works here half the time. He rolls his eyes. “The manager found out. It wasn’t me.”
I gape at him, my heart slowing to a stop in my chest.
“Here’s the tow company’s phone number,” the guy says, a hint of pity in his eyes as he pushes a business card across the counter to me. I’m numb as I pick it up, glazing over the number and back up to his face.
“Can I use your phone?” I ask.
He looks at me like I just came down from another planet. “You don’t have one?”
I shake my head. With a sigh, he pulls out his cell phone, unlocks it, and hands it to me. I dial the number, but it goes to voicemail.
“Hello, you’ve reached Cam’s Tow Company. I’m not here right now, but if your vehicle was towed, you can pick it up the following morning at nine a.m.”
“Nine?!” I demand of it, my heart rate suddenly exploding. “I have to be at work by eight!”
The attendant leans away from me, and I sigh.
“I’m sorry.” I end the call and pass his phone back.
I don’t even have Mr. Castle’s phone number on me to tryto call him and let him know, because it was on a scrap of paper in my car. Unless I’m willing to hike all the way out to Edgewood Manor. I don’t even know if it would be possible in a day’s time.
I snap my mouth closed, willing back angry tears. This can’t be happening. Who knows how much it will cost to get my car from the impound?
I trudge out of the convenience store and stand under the streetlight, gazing around at the empty parking lot. Eventually, the attendant clocks out, turns off the lights, and locks up the doors behind him.
There’s nowhere to go. I don’t even know my own father’s phone number, even if I wanted to call him.
Eventually, I sit down on the bench next to the smoking station and lie on my side, balling the hood of my jacket up under my head. It’s frigid cold tonight without my blankets, so I pull up my legs under the shelter of the coat.
I don’t know when I finally manage to fall asleep.
The tow truck company is a mile and a half away, so I trudge there early the next morning so I can stand and wait until “Cam” arrives. I can tell the moment he shows up that he doesn’t give a flying fuck about my circumstances, so I give him $250 of my cash—which nearly empties me out—to get my car back.
He takes his sweet old time getting it for me, and it’s nearly eleven by the time I make it out to Mr. Edgewood’s house, sweaty and dirty. I had gotten used to using the truck stop showers on the outside of town, but I didn’t have time.
When I arrive, Mr. Castle emerges from the front door, a deep crease in his brow and his mouth angled steeply down.
“I’m so sorry,” I burst out the second I emerge from the driver’s side door. “I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t have any way to call you, and?—”
“At least you’re here in time to make Mr. Edgewood’s lunch.” Mr. Castle was a tad grumpy before, but today, his gaze is like a laser beam carving me open. “This is your first and last warning, Ms. Austin.”
I knew being late would be a big deal, that my job might be at risk, but I’m irritated that I haven’t even gotten the chance to explain myself. Mr. Castle turns on his heel and snatches my keys from me. I don’t make excuses, or tell him how my car was towed, because then I’d have to reveal that I’m sleeping in said car and still haven’t had a shower this morning.
The chance of losing my job becomes much higher if I do that.
