Page 3 of Life After Levi

The motel is unlike anything I’ve ever stayed in before. It’s a quaint but huge older home that’s been renovated into about a dozen or so well-appointed rooms. I’m in a turret room and know my youngest sister would love it and think she was a princess. Grinning, I make a mental note to take pictures to send her.

Less than a block away, I find a diner and seeing the number of vehicles lined up in the parking lot, I realize I’ve found a hidden treasure. Once inside, it’s obvious that most of the patrons are locals simply based on how they’re interacting with the waitresses. There are some tourists, probably from the same place I’m staying at, but the bulk of the folks I see eating appear to be native to the area.

I grab one of the remaining stools at the counter and pull a menu toward me as a waitress comes over with a coffee carafe in hand. “Would you like coffee, sir?” she asks.

“Please,” I reply.

She flips my cup over then fills it up before saying, “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

“Just need a few minutes,” I say. She nods and steps away to help someone else, leaving me to peruse the menu.

* * *

I’m goingto need to take a ten-mile run instead of my usual five to work off the food I just ate. Jesus, the portions were not lacking, and since I’m technically still in the first year of healing, I definitely got my protein intake for the day. I continue walking along what appears to be the town’s main street, content to wander through the various shops.

“Dena will like this,” I tell the clerk as I hand her the unique ornament she helped me find.

The shop is holiday themed, with each section devoted to a specific holiday. Since Dena, my sister, loves Christmas, I searched until I found an ornament for her tree. She’s my youngest sibling, at fifteen, and I started buying her ornaments the year she was born. I’m not sure where I got the idea, probably from social media, but when she goes out on her own, she’s going to have enough to decorate her own tree, instead of the one my parents put up.

“It’s definitely different. We have a local artisan who makes these,” the clerk informs me as she carefully wraps it in some bubble wrap then tissue paper before placing it inside the bag. She does all that before she rings me up and gives me the total.

As I hand her my credit card, I ask, “Does that person have a website? Because I’m just passing through, but if they do, I can always order something for my sister.”

“She does. I’ll slip one of her cards in your bag,” she replies, putting my receipt in the bag. She then picks up a business card and hands it directly to me. “A lot of the items in here are locally sourced. They may be a bit pricier than mass made items, but they’re quality, you know?”

“Yeah, I want that since these are for my sister, and hopefully, when she’s old enough to get out on her own, she’ll have plenty of ornaments for her first Christmas.”

“Oh, my goodness, that’s so sweet!” the clerk exclaims, smiling at me.

“She’s my little princess,” I reply. “Followed me around when she was younger and was a definite pain in the behind at times, but I adore her.”

“She’s lucky to have a big brother like you.”

I nod, pick up my bag and say, “Thanks again for everything. You have a good day.”

“You do the same. Enjoy your visit to Possum Creek.”

ChapterTwo

Emerie

“I’m sticking around tonight, Em,”Pauline, the long-time night shift dispatcher says. “Things have been totally insane since I got here, and even as fast as I am, I’ve had a helluva time keeping up.”

“I appreciate it. Seems I always learn something new from you, so that’s a plus,” I tease, sitting down at the desk I normally use. Grabbing my headset from the desk drawer, I slip it on and then plug it into the phone before saying, “911, what’s your emergency.”

And… just like that, I’m sending out every available fire truck and ambulance from not only Possum Creek but also Maggie Valley to deal with a horrible, multi-vehicle accident and pile up on Blue Ridge Parkway. The road itself is winding and curvy since it goes through the mountainous region, and it seems that the accident occurred when someone coming down had their brakes ice over, causing them to lose control and strike another vehicle head-on, who then struck several of the many bikers that traverse the parkway whenever it’s nice outside. The technical term is brake fade, but Levi told me the brakes iced over so that’s what I still use to this day.

Hours later, I slump back in my chair and look over to see Pauline’s normally pristine hair, sticking up like one of those troll dolls that Levinia loves so much. Giggles erupt, a combination of the sheer nightmare that accident turned into, as well as how she looks. “P-p-pauline, you look like Poppy right now,” I manage to stammer.

“Poppy?” Who the hell is Poppy?” she asks, staring at me. “Wait, are you talking about that pink troll from those movies Levinia loves so damn much? Let me take a look.” She grabs the mirror she keeps inside the top of her desk and shrieks when she sees her hair. “Oh, good giggly wigglies, Em, you coulda said something before now!”

“When was I supposed to do that?” I sass back. “We’ve literally been working this one accident since I tapped in, and you know it.”

“Well, this just won’t do,” she fusses, taking her headset off and switching her availability to show she’s not. She then grabs her little makeup bag that holds enough stuff to get a woman ready for a night out on the town and heads to the restrooms. “I’ll be back once I’ve fixed myself.”

“You do that, I’ll take care of this,” I tease, waving my hand between our two desks while praying nothing else major or catastrophic comes through.

The original accident spawned multiple others to call in and lodge their complaints as people became impatient due to the unavoidable delays. Life flight, which was needed more than once, had a challenging time finding somewhere safe to land, and the ambulances were running non-stop. All I know is Bud and Talbot will make a killing in tow fees tonight, although several of them were on vehicles who had people die in them.

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