“Oh shit,” I muttered and quickly pulled to the side of the road. I climbed out to see what was wrong. I walked all around it. No smoke or anything serious. No burning smell. The tires were all okay. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t see anything immediate, but when I got back in and tried to kick it into gear, it let out a wet flub of a noise and died again.

Fuck.

I got out once more and peered both ways down the road. The road was empty and I hadn’t seen any cars for at least half-an-hour. I was still a couple of miles out of town. I’d hoped to make my triumphant re-entrance under my own steam, but it became obvious it was going to be one of those days. Disasters come in threes. I caught my husband-to-be cheating on me and now I would have to call my parents to help me. I wonder what the third one would be? Still, being stranded like this sucked.

I’d been hoping for a dignified conversation at my family’s home of why Mark wasn’t with me, but I supposed dropping the news on my mother in the back of the car on the way back home with a cheerful look on my face would have just as much impact as pulling up in my own car alone.

I dialed their number, leaned against the car, and enjoyed the quiet before the tone started to buzz in my ear. Once, twice, three times, and then it went to messages.

“We’re out at a luncheon right now, but please feel free to leave a message and we’ll call back later,” my mother’s cultured voice cooed down the line.

Damn! How many times had I told her she didn’t need to change their message every single time they left the house? She just wanted everyone to know what high-society bullshit they were up to at all times. So, they were out and if they were at lunch, that meant they were going to be a while. So where did that leave me?

I sighed and dumped my phone back in the car. The buzz from everything that had happened today was beginning to fade, and I found myself getting seriously annoyed. Would I just have to walk the rest of the way into town? I peered down at my shoes. They were three inches high and definitely not meant for walking. I was a good couple of miles out right now, and I had zero intention of turning my feet into blistering red sores.

I frowned. I supposed I could call one of my old friends. I tried Shana. While she sounded excited to hear from me, she couldn’t come because she was at the hairdressers. She suggested calling her cousin, but I had never kept in touch with her and I didn’t want to ask her for help. I stood there wondering if I should call the bride, when it clicked.

I remembered that there was a garage not far from where I was. Sure, it would still be a good half-hour walk, but maybe it would do me good to work off some of the excess energy pulsing around my system since I’d left the city. I was pretty sure the place was still open. At least, it was when Mark and I passed it a month ago. Even if it wasn’t, I might be able to flag someone down from there, or get the number of a reliable tow truck company.

I started on the walk down to the garage, loading up some music on my phone to listen to as I strolled. The air felt dry and hot, but clean. I liked the sensation of having flat countryside on either side of me. This was my home. The place I couldn’t wait to get out of at one time in my life. Yet, now since I was older and wiser, I could appreciate it for what it was. It was real.

I thought of my crummy job in the city. I’d given my blood, sweat and tears for it and yet, I could be replaced as easily as a lightbulb. Maybe I should move back out here, start a rescue service for women who had their cars break down in the middle of nowhere. This place clearly needed it.

Finally, I rounded a bend and spotted the garage I’d seen before. I plucked my earbuds out of my ears and stared at the building. It looked so beat-up that for a moment I thought it was closed, but then I heard some male voices coming from the main building and realized there were people inside. I hurried toward it, switching off my music, and patting my hair into place. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt a strange little flutter in my chest.

Maybe nerves. Maybe something else entirely.

A man passed me as I got close. I opened my mouth to greet him and ask for help, but he dropped his head and made his way straight to his car, pulling down onto the road and leaving me standing there like an idiot. I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. It might be easy to idealize this place when I’d been away as long as I had. But I did forget it was still the same slightly suspicious small town I had grown up in. I made my way toward the main building, where I could hear the sound of metalwork and a fuzzy old radio.

“Hello?” I called as I stepped inside and glanced around. It took me a moment to spot him, but I felt a wave of relief when I saw that I wasn’t babbling to myself.

“Hi, hello.” I ran my fingers through my hair and strode toward the pair of legs clad in oil-stained jeans sticking out from under an old, rusted car.

“Give me a second,” a deep gravelly voice floated out from under the car, but made no move to show himself. I thought I recognized the voice but I couldn’t place it straight off; I likely knew everyone in this town, anyway, so it wasn’t a surprise that I would.

I stood there, arms crossed, tapping my foot impatiently as I counted to ten. Rude country hick! As if I hadn’t been insulted enough by the male species for one damn day.

Finally, when I was just about to kick him hard, he pushed himself out from beneath the car, and—Jesus Christ.