Chapter 1
“PLEASE DON’T DO THIS. PLEASE, Gerty.” I sound pathetic—begging my twenty-something teal hatchback to live. Yes, live. I need my car to get her shit together and get me to Austin. Looking down at the gauges, I plead with them to tell me what’s wrong. That’s wishful thinking since they stopped working a year ago and the little arrow things just bounce without ever telling me anything.
“Come on, girl. Look, six miles. You can do it.” My words are encouraging. Okay, they aren’t really encouraging. They’re more like begging with a sprinkling of frustration and the lingering sounds of tears lacing each word.
Six miles and we’ll be in the town of Mason. If I’m lucky, Gerty will hold on for at least eight and allow me to get closer to the center of town. I’ve been in Mason once before and, while it’s been at least ten years, I’m sure it hasn’t changed much. That’s the brilliance of small Texas towns: they don’t change much. It’s also why I left small-town Texas: they don’t change much.
I won’t cry. This isn’t a big deal. We’ve broken down before. Sure, it was in a town where I knew a lot of people. A town with taxis that could get me home if necessary. Home. I refuse to admit defeat. That “d” word is not in my vocabulary. I glance up in my rearview mirror and don’t see smoke billowing behind me; that’s good. And, because I was obviously a sinner in my past life and am being punished for said unknown sins, a puff of smoke appears in front of me.
Dammit to hell. I’m going to be stranded in Mason, Texas. Mason, population . . . well, I don’t know what the population is, but I’m sure it’s less than I’m looking for as I start my new life.
Again.
Yes, at twenty-three I’m starting my life over. Third time’s a charm and all that. I’ll be fine. Everything is fine. Fine. A big word with only four letters. I should have known things were too good to be true in Lexington. I had a good job, a roommate who not only paid her rent on time but was willing to split a pizza and critique the latest episode of The Bachelor every week. Heck, the guy I enjoyed hanging out with, and who was absolutely willing to fulfill all of my sexual needs, wasn’t interested in a relationship. I was living the ultimate dream. Then, one day my roommate decided she needed to move back home. The guy, the one that wasn’t interested in a relationship? He fell in love and suddenly I was alone.
Of course, I was—am—happy for everyone. Truthfully, it was that happiness that pushed me to give my notice at the bar I worked at, pack up Gerty with everything I own, and hit the road. My time in Lexington was over, and I needed to get back on track with my life plans.
Two more puffs of white smoke billow from the hood of my baby, and I’m in denial. Encouragement. It’s all she needs. At the end of the day, Gerty is a girl. And, like any other young woman, she wants to be told she’s smart, fierce, and can handle any obstacle put in her way. I tell her that each time I turn over the ignition, along with hope and a prayer she’ll start and get me where I need to be.
I enter the outskirts of Mason just as one of my mama’s favorite songs fills the car. I remember when I was little my mom would blast “Centerfold” by The J. Geils Band every Saturday morning and dance around while she cleaned our small house. I also remember when I went over to my best friend’s house. Valerie’s mama did not love me singing this song with a broom as my microphone. So stuffy. That’s what Mama used to say, and I’d have to agree.
I see the town coming in the distance and think to myself, even if Gerty blows a gasket or whatever ails her, I’ll make it to at least a parking spot before she quits on me. And I spoke too soon. With a huge puff of smoke and two sputters, I pull Gerty to the side of the road. There’s no use trying to start her again. She’s done. I’m still hopeful she can be saved, but for now, the side of the road is where she’ll have to stay.
I reach over to the passenger seat and pull my makeup bag out of my purse. If I’m going in search of a mechanic, I might as well make myself presentable. Flipping down the sun visor, I open the small mirror and gasp. Oh lordy. I look like I’ve been to hell and back. Twice.
After applying a little powder, light shadow to enhance my dark blue eyes, and a little lip gloss, I pull my hair from the messy bun I threw it in hours ago and fluff it out a little. As much as it pains me to say it, this is as good as it’s going to get today. Tossing my phone in my purse, I exit my car and begin my trek into town.
There aren’t any bright city lights here. No signs of local bands or any of the arts at all. I left a town like this for a life in the city, for a life that included museums, live music, and if I was lucky, a musician to call my own. I’ve been searching for that life for four years, and while I haven’t found it in the places I’ve lived, I know for a fact that what I need isn’t here in Mason, I just need to find a way out of this town.