Noel nods absently, lost in thought.Eventually, his gaze clears, and he turns his attention back to me."So maybe someday, sooner or later, you'll let something grow between you and someone else."
"Maybe."
"Has it crossed your mind, with Morgan Wheeler?"
“Sure it has," I admit."I'm a straight man with working eyeballs, bud.It hasn't escaped me that she's not exactly hard on the eyes.But I get the sense she's as disinclined to let anything develop as I am, if nothing else."
"But you don't know that."
"No, I don't know that."
"So talk to her.Smooth things over.Just be friends.Skate together.Doesn't have to be a thing.Just…" he shrugs."Chill."
"I'm not good at chill, kiddo."
"Gotta start somewhere, don't you?"
"S'pose so.If nothing else, I don't want her to think I'm trying to get in the middle of her parenting."
"Just keep an open mind, yeah?"
I point at him."You too, Mr.Never Been In Love."
He grins."If someone comes along who's right for me the way Mom was right for you, I'll be all in.Just gotta be the right girl.I've waited this long for love, may as well keep waiting till it's right."
The tones go, then, and coffee is left on the table as we bolt for the engine.
By the end of my 24-on, I'm wiped out.It's been a gnarly 24 hours.There was a freak snowstorm that came out of nowhere, catching everyone by surprise.There were wrecks and cars in ditches all over the county, mostly non-injury or minor injuries, but it's kept us busy non-stop.I've barely had time to snag a sandwich, let alone a nap.
Sitting in my truck as it warms up and defrosts the windshield, my stomach gurgles in noisy protest.I've got frozen microwave meals I could make, but after the shift I've had, I need real food.The problem is, I'm too tired to cook, and if I go into any of the local places, I'll get sucked into conversation, and I just want to go home.
Fuck it.TV dinner it is.
I'm on autopilot, driving without really mentally recording the drive home, so when I see a red vehicle stuck with its nose off the road, half in the ditch, it doesn't register at first.
But then my brain kicks in, and my sense of duty does too, and I brake to a halt on the shoulder behind the stuck vehicle.The driver is rocking back and forth, but it's wedged onto a hump of plow-thrown snow.Without a push or a pull, it ain’t going anywhere.
I shove my beanie on my head, slip my hands into my insulated work gloves, and hop out.The snowstorm seems to be working up for another round, the wind blowing snow in cutting, brutal sideways curtains.I approach the driver's side and rap on the window.The driver is a woman, I can tell, but not much more than that.She's got a winter hat on with one of those puffy guys on top and a scarf around her mouth and nose.At my knock, she turns and looks at me, and I realize it's Morgan.
She cranks her window down an inch or two."I'm stuck!"
"I can tell!"
She cracks the window a few inches.“Heater conked out this morning."
"Shit timing."
Her shoulders lift, pause, and fall heavily."Help?"It's quiet and muffled, frustrated.
I do a quick visual examination to see how stuck she is.And that's when I spot a bigger problem: she's leaking oil, and a lot of it.
I go back to her window."Was there a, um, crunching noise, by any chance?"
"Fuck.Yes.Why?"
"You're bleeding oil.Somethin' tells me there's a rock or something in the snow."
Her head thunks back against the headrest."Goddammit!Cherry!No!”It's a wail of grief for a beloved friend.
