Page 5 of Protected from Torment

After five minutes, or ten, or maybe twenty, since time seems to have lost all meaning out here, I finally hear the welcome sound of sirens rising and falling. With them, flashing lights approach, lighting the road ahead of them.

When they finally arrive, the real chaos begins. As the police and paramedics take over, I’m shuttled away to give my statement to a harried-looking officer.

“There’s flooding all over the place,” he tells me. “Trees down, roads washed out… This is the worst storm we’ve had in years.”

As I’m trying to figure out a new route to Lake Placid, since I’m obviously not going this way anymore, the officer adds, “You’re going to want to head back to Long Lake, but I wouldn’t count on leaving until tomorrow morning, at the earliest. The bridge into town was damaged, so we’re not letting anyone through until it can be assessed.”

“What about some of the roads that cut up to 30 further north?” I ask. “Can’t I backtrack and take one of them?”

He shakes his head solemnly. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Like I said, we’ve got trees down everywhere. And power lines. It’s just not safe.”

While I absorb the information, I sneak a quick look at the handsome, bossy, good samaritan, as I’ve nicknamed him, who’s talking to another officer, most likely giving his own statement. At the same time, the handsome, bossy, good samaritan looks at me, and he lifts his chin again. And I’m not sure why, but I can tell it’s not an acknowledgment, but a question.

Are you okay?

I nod back at him.

Yes. Are you?

He gives me a small smile in response.

And darn it, my heart stumbles because of it.

“Why don’t you head back into Long Lake,” the police officer says, oblivious to my silent communication with the handsome, bossy, good samaritan. “The Lakeside Inn should have some rooms available. Tell them you helped with the accidents on Route 30, and they’ll give you a discount.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I can’t just spontaneously stay in Long Lake for the night. That I have somewhere I’m supposed to be.

But then it hits me.

I could stay overnight. Put off this trip to Lake Placid I’ve been dreading for weeks with an actual, real excuse and not some lame one I made up because I’m chicken and end up feeling guilty about later.

I could have a little adventure, like I used to.

At this inn, no one knows who I am. No one knows my story. I’m just an anonymous guest, like any other. And just for tonight, I can be that person.

“Okay,” I reply, suddenly feeling much cheerier. “I’ll head into Long Lake. Thanks.”

The officer nods, but it’s not like the one the good samaritan gave me. It’s a nod that says he’s ready to move on. “Okay,” he replies, already taking a step away from me. “The road’s not too bad from here to there. Just take it slowly, and you should be fine.”

Before I can respond, he’s already striding off towards a small cluster of officers huddled near the ambulance. Inside the truck, the woman I spoke to is already waiting to be brought to the hospital. Paramedics are tending to the driver of the partially-submerged car just beside her.

Hopefully, they’ll both be okay. I’ll have to call the police station later to ask, assuming they’ll tell me anything. But judging from what I saw of the woman I talked to, at least, I think she’s going to be alright.

Now that my adrenaline is fading, the cold is settling in. My soaked clothes stick to my skin as I move. When I start walking back to my car, the soles of my shoes squish wetly. My hair is plastered to my head, and I inwardly cringe to think about how unattractive I must look right now.

Not that it matters. Who would I be trying to impress? The police officers? The paramedics? The handsome, bossy, good samaritan?

Well.

Despite the cold, my cheeks heat.

Something my sort-of-friend Rory said comes back to me. “It’s okay to be happy again, you know. For a long time after I lost my parents, I thought feeling happy meant I didn’t miss them as much. But it wasn’t true. It just meant I was healing. And they would have wanted me to be happy.”

She was right. It took me a long time to accept it, but thanks to counseling and Oscar, I’ve begun to feel happy again. Not all the time, but there are flashes of it—when I have a good day at work, or Oscar does something cute, or a dog I’m helping train at the local animal shelter has a breakthrough.

So it’s okay if you’re attracted to a man, a little voice in my head whispers. It’s not a betrayal. Vince would want you to be happy. He wouldn’t want you to be single for the rest of your life.

The voice is right, too.