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Chapter Nine
It’smy weekend to go to Hollybrooke and visit Luke. We’ve been dating for two months and everything has been great. We haven’t yet put titles on our relationship, but I feel positive about the direction that it’s going. We talk daily, text often, and see each other at least weekly switching off on who travels to whom.
Until now.
I’m sitting on the side of the road just outside Mercy, waiting for a tow back to town. Something underneath the hood of my car is smoking, and my car just finally stopped whining.
Yes. It was whining. Or maybe it was the horn?
I tried calling Luke to let him know about my car problems, but I know he’s working at the clinic today for at least another hour, so I left him a voicemail instead.
We were supposed to meet at the clinic and then head to dinner, but now I’m coming to the realization that I will probably not get to see him on my two days off this week and that’s bumming me out. Luke has shifts in the mornings for the next few days, so he wouldn’t be able to visit me - and for his days off this week, he had covered for another doctor in the emergency room.
I’m coming to the realization that dating a work-a-holic doctor is tough. I don’t just expect him to drop everything, especially stuff within a career that he worked so hard for, to come and hang out with me.
This is the first hiccup that we’ve had in our relationship so far, so I just need to go with the flow. I’ll get my car fixed, and then next week Luke and I can resume our time together.
I see a truck a few hundred feet away and get out of my car hoping that it’s the tow. When I see the wild red hair behind the wheel as she passes to park the truck in front of my car, I smile.
She hops down from the large truck and wipes her hands down the front of her overalls. Delia Mankin is the wife of Darshaun, our town mechanic, and one hell of a spitfire. She and I went to high school together, and if she’s still as wild as she was then, I’m sure in for a fun ride back to Mercy.
“Well, well, well. If we don’t have Mercy’s one and only Rhiannon here. How you doing, girl? What brings you to the outskirts of town, trying to make a run for it?” she jokes, smacking her gum.
“Was planning to visit Hollybrooke, but it looks like car issues have taken that plan out of action,” I say with sadness.
“Business or pleasure?” She asks grabbing the tow chain from the back of her truck.
“Pleasure.” I smile.
Delia winks at me.
“Well, let’s look under this here hood. Mind poppin’ it?” she asks.
I do as asked and once the hood is pulled up, billows of smoke come up as if they were just waiting to be released. Delia whistles.
“Well darlin’, it’s the radiator. You need a new one and probably a shit ton of other things. When was the last time you got a new battery or any sorta maintenance?” she asks, looking around the hood at me.
I’m almost too embarrassed to say, but I answer her honestly, because you want to be honest to three people that you come across in life: dentists, doctors, and mechanics.
She hooks up my car to the truck, and I jump up into the cab of hers for our trek back to Mercy. By the time I’ve finished with all the paperwork for the shop, I notice that I have a missed call and two text messages, all from Luke.
I wait until I’m walking to view and reply to them.
Luke: Damn. I wish that I had a teleporter
Luke: Call me when you can, I’m worried about you.
I return his call.We both are bummed about the situation, and I just wish that we lived close enough to one another to have easier access. But I can’t move to Hollybrooke; I need to take care of my mother. And he’s got his job at the hospital and clinic. It would be asking too much for him to move here; that daily commute wouldn’t be good, plus it’s too early in the relationship to makes those kinds of decisions. I keep my mood positive during our conversation despite the amount of bummed out that I am, and we hang up with a plan to FaceTime later tonight to make up for the lack of time together.
The walk to my house is quick, and I check in on my mom before heading over to the front of the house. I tap on the front door before opening it to find my mother sitting naked in her recliner chair. She’s got a dazed look on her face and vomit down the front of her chest. Her hair is knotted in a bun on top of her head, and she’s absently staring at the glowing television in front of her with a bottle of vodka between her legs.
“Mom!” I yell, slamming the door, then immediately opening it to get some fresh air in; damned if anyone from the street looking in sees her in her current state.
She doesn’t look up from the television until I’m standing directly in front blocking her way. Only then do her glassy eyes look up at me.
“What do you want, girl?” she slurs.
“You need to start taking care of yourself; I won’t always be here to do this for you. Get up!” I say sternly.
“I don’t need you,” she sneers.
“Well, that’s a lie, because I’m guessing this is day old puke on account for how flaky it is. Do you not even realize that you’re throwing up?”
“Go away.” She tries to push me away.
“Just quit squirming, we need to get you into the shower,” I say, trying to get my arms underneath her, but she won’t stop wiggling.
I give up! I think to myself and then shake my head. No, I really do!
“I give up! This has been a shitty day, and if my damn car was working, I wouldn’t even be here. Figure it out for yourself. And…and I’m going to need you to move out!” I say out of anger and storm out the front door.
