Page 77 of River Ride

“Yeah, we do, bro. We’ll start fresh on Monday and put more energy into it.”

“Monday it is.” He raised his chocolate shake in a toast to starting over.

Penny picked up her order and walked past our table without looking at me or Virge. Game over.

Love’s Truck Stop. Atlanta. Georgia.

Keeping her pain at a minimum with her new supply of stolen opiates, Tammy managed to drive all the way to Atlanta.

She pulled into the first truck stop she saw, figuring she’d use the ladies’ room and get a coffee. There was a spot open next to a big, black Peterbilt and she took it and skillfully parked the Freightliner.

Tammy rubbed her leg a couple of times to ease the stiffnessbefore trying to climb out of the truck. Pain hit her brain as soon as she touched her leg, and she had to catch her breath.

She opened the door, eased out and then gingerly stepped down from the sidestep. She closed the door of her truck and pressed the fob at the same time as the driver next to her.

“Hey there, little girl, you driving that big Freightliner all by yourself?”

“Yep. My truck.”

“You not hauling a load?”

“Not today. I’m on a break for a couple of days. I got hurt and I have to give my leg time to heal.”

“What happened to your leg?”

“Big dog bit me and tore up my leg real bad. I had to get a lot of stitches.”

The driver frowned. “That must hurt like hell.”

“Does so. I’m on pain killers and they help.”

“Watch out or you’ll get addicted.”

“Yeah, I’m being careful.”

“Where you headed?”

“Not sure. I just stopped for a bathroom break and to get a coffee.”

“Mind if I sit with you? I’m going to order dinner if you want to eat with me. I’m buying.” He smiled and he wasn’t bad looking. Thirty-something.

“Not too hungry,” said Tammy. “I’m good with a coffee, but we can sit together. I’m okay with that.”

They walked over to the restaurant, and he held the door for her. Noisy and crowded inside, they found an empty table and sat down.

“You’re even prettier now that I can see your face in the light. Got a name?”

“Tammy.”

“I’m Rick.”

The server came over to their table, filled up their coffee mugs and took Rick’s order.

Service was always quick at the truck stops. A lot of drivers on tight schedules.

Tammy sipped her hot coffee while Rick shoveled in two pork chops, a mound of mashed potatoes floating in gravy and a pile of carrots. He finished off with a slice of cherry pie topped with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. The waitress brought him a coffee and cleared his dishes.

He winked at her, and she smiled at him.

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