my one sister is getting married, so I gotta get to Alaska.”
“A bus’d take…shit, days. Not even sure a bus goes directly there.” I rubbed my jaw. “Better to just fly, I’d think.”
“Flying is not exactly in the budget,” she said.
“Your sisters or your mom can’t help?”
The annoyed huff she gave me was an indicator that I’d just stepped into something smelly. “I’m sure they would, if I asked. But I won’t ask.”
I nodded. “That I get. Gotta make it on your own two feet, I guess, huh?”
She eyed me sideways. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“So…you really want me to take you to the bus station?” I asked.
“Yeah, why?”
I tapped the round analog clock in the dashboard—5:26. “Pretty sure departing buses will have left already.”
“I checked before I left work and there’s one at six thirty.”
I shrugged. “I mean, there might be.”
Six thirty in the morning, I thought, but didn’t say.
She didn’t respond, so I left it. One time I’d looked into taking a bus to see my folks in Lexington, Kentucky, and I knew most buses traveling west left in the morning.
But, if she wanted to go to the bus station, I’d take her to the bus station.
We got there in about fifteen minutes, and I parked as close to the doors as I could get, noting the lack of buses. She eyed the parking lot.
“Not too many people here,” she said.
I didn’t want to insult her, so I said nothing; she seemed like she was having a rough enough time without me adding snarky comments. She glanced at me. “Well, Rhys, thanks for picking me up.”
“Pleasure,” I said. “Good luck getting to Alaska.”
“Yeah, I’ll need it.”
She took a breath, shoved open the door and hopped down, closed it, and walked over to the front doors. I was about to take off when I noticed she’d left her backpack in the foot well. Plus, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere tonight.
I couldn’t leave her here. Sleeping in a bus station sucks.
Crap.
So, I waited.
A few minutes later, she yanked the doors open and exited the bus station, standing in the rain, head down, shoulders shaking.
Dammit, she was crying.
She hadn’t noticed I was still here.
I put the Jeep in Neutral and yanked on the parking brake, leaned across the passenger seat to unzip the passenger window. “Hey! Torie!” I shouted, and then zipped it back up.
Her head whipped up, and she saw me. The shaking of her shoulders paused, and she came over and got back in the Jeep.
The Jeep was suddenly full of her, again. Wet girl, and sniffles. “You waited.”
“You weren’t going anywhere,” I said. “Buses to points more’n a couple hours from here leave in the morning.” I pointed at her backpack. “Plus, you forgot your bag.”
“Yeah, I noticed that as I stood at the counter wondering what the fuck I was gonna do.” She groaned. “The bus left at six thirty in the morning, not in the evening.” She laughed, bitterly. “I guess that’s what I get for checking bus times when I’m stoned.” Her head thunked back against the leather seat. “Now what do I do? Go back home and try again tomorrow?”
“You could.”
“I’d have to start walking at like, four in the morning to make a six-thirty bus.”
I winced. “Oof. That’d suck.” I gestured at the rain. “Especially since this shit is supposed to go on till, like, Wednesday.”
“Fuck.” She whacked her head back against the seat again. “I have to get to Alaska. My sister’s wedding is in two weeks. I have three hundred and twenty-nine dollars to my name, and I’ve only got that much because my roommates said they’d cover my share of rent this month. I have no car, and I won’t ask for help from my family.”
I’ve always had an issue with my mouth running ahead of my brain. Case in point:
“I don’t live too far from here. Stay with me. I’ll drive you over in the morning.” I realized she might think I was coming onto her and, I mean, she wouldn’t have been entirely wrong. But still. “I have a pull-out couch. I don’t mean anything…forward.”
She turned away. “I…I couldn’t impose on you like that.”
“Not imposing if I offer,” I said. “I live alone. I have the hide-a-bed couch. You’d be close to the bus station and you’d have a guaranteed ride.” I grinned. “Plus, I make a mean pot of coffee.”
She laughed. “Is it weird if your offer of coffee is what changes my mind?”
“Nah,” I said, laughing