Page 4 of Jingle Bell Jilt
I’m beginning to think that perhaps ‘Miss’ had not been so bad. “I guess that’s my only option.” I sneer at him. I know it isn’t his fault, but he keeps calling me ‘ma’am,’ and I can’t help but clench my fists at my side.
He types into the computer and then looks up. “I need your credit card.”
“How much is it going to be?” I brace myself. Aren’t bigger cars more expensive?
“When are you bringing it back?”
I narrow my eyes at the car. Maybe tomorrow? “Uh, January 1st.”
He types on the computer. “That will be eighteen hundred dollars. And make sure you return it with the tank full or we have to charge you for fuel.”
I cough. It’d be totally cheaper to Uber where I needed to go. But the thought of waiting outside the grocery store with melting ice cream makes me pull my credit card from the zipper pocket on the back of my phone case and slide it over to him.
He takes it and holds it up to a scanner. It must be one of those things like on some food apps that it takes a picture of your card so you don’t have to manually enter the information. He hands it back then turns the screen to me. “Enter an email address and create a password for the account.”
I lean in close to the screen to make sure no one sees the password I enter. One cannot be too safe when it comes to internet transactions. Or rude rental car agents.
I press enter and the screen changes. He stares at me expectantly and I nod. He turns the screen back to him, types a few more things, and then slides my credit card and a business type card to me. “If you scan in this QR code, it will take you to our website. You can download the app from there. Once you sign in with the email and password you just created, you can go over to either the black or silver Denali and you’re all set.”
“You may need to give me a brief driving lesson first. I’m not sure I can even back that thing out.”
He blinks at me. OOKKAAAYYY. He’s beyond personality at this point. “When you log into the app, you may want to click the option requesting insurance.” Now his lip quirks up on one side.
“Thanks for the tip, bro.” I smile at him as I collect the cards and head toward the black government issue SUV. Have I mentioned that the score is now Universe, 5; Shay, 0? Just wasn’t sure if you were still keeping track.
I open the back and shove my luggage inside. At least there’s plenty of space. I could probably fit my entire apartment furnishings in the back of this thing.
I climb into the monster truck and settle myself in. I half expect to discover a cord drooping down next to the window that I can pull to honk at kids in passing cars. But it’s not there.
Feeling around on the side of the seat, I find the buttons to move my seat forward. Being 5 foot 2 inches tall, I need to move it a lot. The person who drove this before me must have been a giant.
I pull out my phone and scan the QR code from the card Bro gave me. The website appears on my phone screen and I start the download process. While the circular bars spin in the middle of my screen, I push in the ignition and turn on the radio. There’s a satellite radio button, but when I push it, no music comes on. Is it because I’m currently sitting in a concrete bunker or because this car does not have a subscription? I look at my phone. If I close out of the download, will I have to start over?
I really don’t want to be sitting here any longer than I have to. I guess I’ll just have to sit here in silence until the app has finished loading. But silence leaves me to think, and I don’t like doing that right now. My mind always drifts to—I glance down as the app appears on my phone.
“Thank the heavens,” I sigh. I find the section on the app to scan in the QR code in the car—or Big Rig. I shake my head.
The app displays a big green check mark. I guess that means I’m good to go? I hope so, because I’m leaving. Chocolate peanut butter is calling my name, and I think I might be getting the shakes just thinking about it.
I put BR in reverse, and I’m kind of surprised when I do not hear backup beeps. I don’t even know if that’s what they’re called. Which should indicate that I’m not qualified to drive this beast. But I manage to back up, with the aid of the three cameras, without incident. Wow. I don’t think I felt this victorious about backing up even when I was in driver’s ed in school.
I release a heavy sigh. I’m pointed toward the exit and I’m ready to go. Orlando, you better watch out. Shay Taylor is on her way.
CHAPTERTHREE
EVAN
The sun is just starting to set as I flip on the light in my garage/workshop. I push the button next to the switch and the garage door pulls up as I push the garage screen door down. It’s a beautiful night, and I want to see when Nathan and his new wife arrive. Nathan’s wife. That’s so weird to say.
I glance out toward the house next door, but it’s still quiet. I expected them to be here already, but their flight could just be delayed. Airlines are not always the most timely companies. Besides, it’s December, and I’ve heard flights from Salt Lake City are sometimes delayed by snow.
I shake my head. Who chooses to slip their way around in the snow when they could enjoy this beautiful weather year round? It boggles my mind. Which is why I leave my New Hampshire house and spend the winter down south.
The board of directors of my tech company had wanted me to move the company to Lehi, Utah (apparently it is just outside of Salt Lake City?) because there are a lot of tech companies there. But I’d pushed back. If I had to deal with snow, I wanted it to be New Hampshire snow, not Utah snow. But then the Everlake Tech. people swooped in and bought the company. Now I don’t care where it’s located because it’s no longer my problem.
I walk over to the boards in the clamps, glue oozing out from the joints and run my hand over it. It’s rough and bumpy. But soon it will be smooth and soft. Just thinking about the work ahead refreshes me.
The low rumble of a car nears, and I look out the screen door as a large SUV pulls into the driveway next door.
