had been so much simpler then. She closed her eyes as she savored the memories, then jolted herself back to alertness and stared again at the tow truck. Where was the stupid driver? How long did it take to go to the bathroom or do whatever he was doing? She’d been to weddings that had taken less time—
Yes, about weddings, Pru said. You went running from your groom to your grandfather hoping that he’d deal with your mother.
Maybe that was true. But Grandpa was the only person who could keep her mother in line. Unfortunately, Grandpa hadn’t been home. It was only after she took the key from its hiding place and let herself inside Grandpa’s house that she remembered it was the week he and Aunt Ruby were gambling in Laughlin. They hadn’t planned to come back until just before her wedding so they could be at the rehearsal dinner on Friday night.
There she’d been, stuck in Redlands without a car, too nervous to sleep, and trying not to regret her decision or to worry about whether Hud was sorry he’d been so nice about it. Just before dawn, she took the key to one of Grandpa’s trucks from a hook inside the pantry and drove to the 10 freeway, intending to find a place to eat breakfast.
Which was when that irrational force kicked in again. Instead of stopping for food, she kept driving. The freeway was hypnotic, stretching in front of her like an enticing gray ribbon. She wasn’t sure what thoughts made her lose track of time before she finally realized she was near Phoenix. She stopped to fill the pickup with gas and told herself that she couldn’t keep driving east. She hadn’t left a note for Grandpa to let him know she’d taken the truck. What if he came home unexpectedly and reported it stolen? It was one of several old pickups that he refused to sell, but he would surely notice it was missing. And even if Grandpa had taken the most tender care of it, it had to be at least thirty years old. She was crazy to be driving alone so far from home in a truck that was five years older than she was.
They just don’t make ’em to last like they used to, Grandpa always said whenever he was nagged to get rid of any of his battered old pickups. For no apparent reason and with no real plan, she’d trusted his faith in Ford Motor Company enough to keep driving east after Phoenix, still unwilling to go back and face the consequences of her actions. Or more accurately, to face her mother. It was never a good idea to thwart Carol Halli.
When she saw the sign for Tucson, she promised herself she’d take the exit and turn back. If it hadn’t been for the annoying van in the right lane that wouldn’t speed up or slow down enough for her to move over, she would have.
Of course, that didn’t explain all the other exits she hadn’t taken. She’d been ignoring the voice of Pru, fighting her sleepiness, and steeling herself to make a U-turn when the real trouble started, because the boring view was interrupted by a startling change of scenery.
She’d never seen anything like the enormous boulders that were lying in piles on either side of the freeway. Even though she’d been forbidden to read fairy tales when she was a little girl—That’s not the way things turn out in real life, her mother always said in the no-nonsense voice that eventually morphed into Pru—the boulders evoked images of a lost tribe of giants throwing them in some kind of game. There were rest stops on both sides of the freeway, and travelers had parked so they could walk through the canyons of rocks. Some people were even climbing them. She slowed down, lured by a sense of magic that went against everything her mother had ever drilled into her head.
Just as she pulled off the freeway, something under the hood of Grandpa’s truck began making an alarming clanking noise. She turned into a parking space and grimaced as the truck shook, wheezed, and died. That was when she discovered that her phone battery was also dead. She got out, intending to approach the first sane-looking person who came along so she could ask for the use of a cell phone. Then she spotted the flatbed tow truck and relaxed. As soon as the driver came back, she could put her problem in more capable hands. Mechanic’s hands.
While she’d been waiting, anxiously eyeing the snake and insect sign, a white Jeep sped past her and came to a squealing stop. A lanky man wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes climbed out and spit. He snapped his fingers, and a big white dog with a few black spots tumbled out on clumsy paws.
She smiled. A man taking his dog for a walk was good scenery. But then the man jumped back inside his Jeep, slammed the door, and burned rubber driving off.
After a moment’s shock, she yelled, “Hey!” and jumped out of Grandpa’s pickup to run toward the abandoned dog. She heard her cry echoed by a masculine voice and glanced up in time to see a man sliding down from where he’d been sitting atop one of the more accessible boulders.
They met at the dog, each of them bending to give it a reassuring pat. They’d barely managed to avoid bumping heads, and their fingers touched briefly before both of them drew back and stood up straight.
“I’m Sam,” the man said.
After a pause, she’d said, “Call me Jandy.”
Why, why had she given him that name? Was it because she’d been reminiscing about being a little girl running through Grandpa’s orange grove?
Sam gave no indication at first that he noticed her choice of words. He stared in the direction the white Jeep had taken and muttered, “Loser.”
“I can’t believe he just dropped the dog and took off,” she agreed.
He shook his head, patted the dog again, and said, “Apparently it’s my destiny to get a dog today.”
Just like on Hud’s balcony the morning before, a strange compulsion overtook her and made her say, “How do you know it isn’t my destiny? Maybe I’m supposed to get a dog.” Since she didn’t believe in destiny, nor had she ever been allowed to have a pet after an unfortunate incident with a turtle named Martha, she had no idea what provoked her to claim the dog for herself.
After a few minutes of bickering over rightful custody of the dog, Sam suggested the coin toss. Heads I win; tails you lose. He’d “won” the dog, and she was stuck waiting for a tow truck driver who was apparently reading a Russian novel in the rest stop’s bathroom.
“Poor dog,” she said aloud. She looked for Sue—
Sue! What an unimaginative name. She was sure she could have come up with something more original.
Like Jandy, Pru said.
“Oh, shut up,” she muttered, continuing to scan the area. Sue and Sam had either left while she wasn’t paying attention, or they were concealed among the rock canyons.
She wanted to leave, too. Instead, she would probably drop dead of heatstroke. Or a rattlesnake or scorpion would get her. Maybe a tarantula. She shuddered. Were there tarantulas in Arizona?
She looked around again, intending to go back to her original plan. But no one was nearby, with or without a cell phone.
Anyway, who would she call? Her mother wasn’t speaking to her. Grandpa and Aunt Ruby were out of town. Hud was in Minnesota. Her most recent temp job, working for the attorney who’d handled the appalling Burger v. Burger divorce and dog custody case, had ended a few weeks before. Even if she still had coworkers, none of them had cared enough about her to drive over five hundred miles to help her. She didn’t even have a best friend who’d do that.
In fact, most of her friends were actually Hud’s friends. They were nice to her because she was engaged to him. But once Hud’s publicist contacted the Foundlings to tell them about the postponed wedding, they would probably forsake her one by one. It gave her a hollow feeling. Sue the abandoned dog was better off than she was. There was no one to fight over who got to keep January Day Halli.
Are you really that pathetic? Pru piped up again.
The relief that flooded through her when she suddenly spotted Sue, who didn’t give a damn about her, returning with Sam, who thought she was dumb, was a clear answer that yes, she was. Pathetic, friendless, stranded, and—
“Hey!” she yelled again as Sam reached for the door handle of the tow truck.