Page 4 of Home in the Country
“Near Clementine Creek, Tennessee.”
“Oh, I amsosorry. This number is for the area local to where you registered with our services. I’m going to have to transfer you. Can you please hold?”
“Sure. Right. Of course.” I grit out the words because it’s not her fault I’m an idiot.
A normal person probably would have remembered to change the information over, but seriously, it’s roadside assistance and I just thought they’d help me…roadside.
“Hello, ma’am?”
“Yes, hello.”
We go through all the pertinent information, and I’m back to waiting as thetappingechoes through the phone.
“I’m sorry, but it looks like the tech closest to you is about two hours away.” Her lack of accent means that wherever she’s working from is nowhere near me. My spirits sink.
This is fine. This is totally fine.
My head falls back against the headrest, and I close my eyes. I thank her and hang up the phone. This day totally sucks.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of knuckles on my window and the accompanying shadow looming over me make me jump in the seat.
The figure takes a step back, and my breath catches in my throat. Even with the rain dripping off the brim of his baseball hat, there’s no denying who the hulking form belongs to.
Shit.
Of all the days of my life, why does Otto Thayer have to crash land into this one?
Rolling my window down, I steel myself against what I know will be a potentially awkward encounter.
“Hey Otto.” There. Casual.
His body stiffens like he’s just realized it’s me. His jaw tightens as his gaze assesses me before flashing to the back seat where Briggs is still sound asleep.
“Anyone coming to fix your flat?”
Ooookay.Apparently we’re skipping pleasantries.
“Roadside assistance is two hours away. I was just going to call my parents and then get the car later. I didn’t want to change it myself and risk my son waking up and not knowing where I am and…” I press my lips together to stop the word vomit—and actual vomit—from escaping.
He eyes the back seat again.
He already knew I have a son because Cheyenne mentioned she ran into Otto at the farmers’ market where she first met Jake. She said that Otto’s demeanor completely changed, and I could guess why.
“Do you have a spare?”
“Yes.”
“Pop the trunk and stay in the car.”
“It’s packed full and I don’t want to be any trouble, I just—”
“Just do it, Fallon. I’m already wet.”
He’s gone before I can say anything else, so I pull the trunk release while putting my window up. Otto’s clipped words hurt as I replay them. I knew there would be some potential saltiness, but this is something else.
We were practically kids back then—or at least that’s how it feels now. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish things had worked out differently. I’d never give up Briggs for anything, but that time with Otto was one of the best of my life.
