Love Story, Pt 3
Part three of the "he said/she said" saga
Grace navigates the sharp curves of 89 North. Twenty minutes since I left that toxicity behind, she thinks. And in twenty minutes I’ll be home free! Or at least home. She closed her eyes for a second—just a second—long enough for her car to veer too far on to the shoulder. The rumble strips rattled her and the car. She overcompensated and yanked the steering wheel left which sent Grace dangerously close to the cement median. She straightened and cruised back into the right lane.
Why was it so hard to let go? Timing. It was the first relationship since losing Ben to that virus. Three and a half long long years of being alone. Then a year of disappointing meet ups until Wyatt who seemed to, well, not replace Ben but filled in those empty places.
“Arghhhhhhh!” Grace pounded on the Prius’s steering wheel. “Stop thinking about him.” She pressed “phone” on the console and selected Marlene.
The phone rang four times, then Marlene’s voice came through. “Huzzah! You got me. You missed me. Leave a message.” A click.
Grace tilted her head toward the speaker. “Hey Mar, it’s Grace. I left Wyatt. I know what you’re thinking but this time it’s for good. For real. I’m not giving in this time. I am NOT breaking down and calling or emailing or texting. Or… Or…. Or…. Anything! So be a pal and play bad cop this time. You’re in charge of slapping sense into me when I forget what a rat he is and start blubbering about how much I miss him. Maybe handcuff me to the remembering all the nice things he did. All three of them!” I can’t go through this shit again. And again. I can’t go back. I can’t I can’t I can’t. Sorry. Babbling. When you get this, please call. Or come over. I’ll be home in about 20 minutes.” Grace reached to push “stop” then added, “unless the stupid part of me kicks in and I turn around.” Or kill myself on this winding road— Grace leaned toward the console. “This long long long and winding road,” Grace sang. “Sorry about that. I know how much you hate people spontaneously breaking into song.” Simultaneously, out of the corner of her eye she …
… spotted an animal crossing the road directly in front of her. She swerved to avoid it and in the process saw a fox whose guts she was about to spill out across newly paved Route 89. But Mr. Fox was safe, yelping and jumping on to the shoulder as her Prius slid by.
Just as the creature took off into the bushes, Grace slammed into the median. As her silver grey hood crinkled in what looked like slow-motion, Grace heard a siren and the voice of her mother yelling, “do NOT ever leave the house with dirty underwear. What if you get in an accident? Which, the way you drive, is a real possibility. What if you end up in the hospital and all those doctors and nurses see? I don’t want them thinking I raised a dirty child. You’ve already caused enough embarrassment to last...”
And Grace was out.
Officer Payton A. Seneca arrived less than a minute after the crash. He’d been following Grace ever since she veered on to the shoulder. Unfortunately, Saturday night meant too many drivers were out who shouldn’t be.
He pulled up behind the accordianed Prius and flipped on his flashers. He called the accident in, requesting an ambulance.
As he approached the car, he could discern no gasoline smell. Leaning into the driver’s side he heard a moan and saw the injured driver, a woman whose face was covered in blood.
Awwww. You are keeping us in suspense. I REALLY want to know how this one ends...