Page 39 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
This. Man.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugged, as if he hadn’t just done yet another kind, wonderful thing. “It’s no big deal. Looking out for one another is what we do around here.”
It was so, so much more than that. At least to me.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I don’t know how I can repay you for everything you’ve done.”
His fingers flexed on the wheel, and he shot a sideways glance at me. “You can talk to me. You know that, right? Maybe I can help.”
“You already have,” I whispered. “More than you know.”
How could I tell him that he had given me hope that I could have a life again? And that hope gave me the strength and resolve I needed to stop running and start living?
Before long, we were cruising the main street of Shadow Ridge, headed toward the one and only service station at the western edge of town, the one I had stopped at that very first day.
The scenery had changed a lot in the last twenty-four hours. Leaves and branches littered the streets and sidewalks. The stately oaks and colorful sugar maples so prevalent along the river were decidedly sparser. The storm front had moved through and continued on its northeast path, leaving a lingering drizzle and a chilly bite to the air in its wake.
I could see my car in one of the bays, raised high enough to properly inspect damage beneath. Chuck waved in greeting, then wiped his hands on a greasy rag and ushered us into his tiny office. It was a cramped and untidy space, filled with the scents of motor oil and new car parts, nothing like the professionally decorated dealerships my parents used to frequent. And the owner, Chuck—he was a bona fide mechanic, not a showroom manager trying to upsell me something. I appreciated that about him.
Something else I appreciated about Chuck—he spoke directly to me, not to Steve, about my car. Some things I understood, like engine, transmission, and frame damage. Other things sounded like he was speaking a different language. My eyes started to glaze over within the first two minutes.
“You’re speaking Greek to me,” I said, putting up my hand to stop him. “What’s the bottom line?”
“Between parts and labor …” He mentioned a figure far larger than I’d expected. It was almost more than I’d paid for the car to begin with.
“Insurance should cover most of it,” Chuck said.
I shook my head. Insurance companies required forms and reports, and while I’d pretty much decided I was going to go back and handle my business, I wanted to keep Shadow Ridge and my time here off the radar for the time being, just in case.
“I don’t want to involve the insurance company.”
“You sure about that?” he asked skeptically.
“I’m sure. How long will you need to fix it?”
“Three weeks.”
“That long?”
“Maybe longer. I’m planning on heading up to the you-pull-it place later this week. I can see what’s available. Chances are, I’ll need to order a couple of components right from the dealer. Plus, I’m kinda swamped right now.” He took off his hat, scratched the back of his head, then replaced the cap, looking almost apologetic.
In another town and under different circumstances, I might have suspected the mechanic was trying to inflate the time and cost estimate, but one look around the lot assured me that he had plenty of business and didn’t need mine. I knew then that Steve had probably called in a favor to get Chuck to look at my car as quickly as he had.
The money wasn’t an issue. I kept a small balance in a “traveling” account, which was the one I used on the road in case someone stole or skimmed my ATM card. When funds dipped too low, I’d locate a secure internet connection and transfer money from my regular account, the one to which my previous employer had deposited my paychecks and held more. Since I’d been living off my tips, I hadn’t had to do that in a while. Keeping my digital footprint to a minimum was important. I had no idea who my stalker was or what he might have access to.
But I needed a vehicle.
“Do you know where I could get a replacement for less than the cost of repairs?”
“I’ve got some good, reliable used vehicles out back. Not much to look at, but they’ll get you where you want to go.”
“Perfect. Do you take cash?”
