Page 21 of Mountain Bean Dream
Rise and shine was a cruel concept on the best of days, and waking up to remnants of a nightmare didn’t improve matters.
I’d dreamt of Derek, and Jeremy, and a hospital visit where the two merged. Closing my eyes even tighter, I recalled how in the dream Jeremy had said he was my boyfriend to Derek, and the weirdest part was that I hadn’t denied it. Why had I not corrected him?
Pain shot through my elbow as I rolled onto my left side, yelping loud enough to startle myself.
It hadn’t been a dream.
It had all happened. The fall, the ER trip, and the encounter between the guys.
Blinking rapidly and shaking my head, I surveyed the room.
Jeremy’s makeshift bed was empty—blanket and pillow tossed carelessly onto the other chair. The muted glow from the bathroom had vanished, leaving the room lit by a pale, mid-morning light.
As I got up, I checked the lock. He’d locked the door—for safety—but that almost meant that whenever he’d left, he’d be unable to get back in. I pulled back the curtains to check, half expecting to see him, but no one was there. In fact, the parking lot was quite empty.
And the sun shone over the trees, rather than through them like an early morning sun would do.
Dang it! I was late for work.
Spinning around, I spotted a note on the bedside table.
Take a pill.Beside it was a glass of water.
Being the good girl I was, I downed two pills with half the liquid.
Dressing one-handed was a comedy of errors. I settled on simple pants and the least wrinkled shirt that I could manage without buttons—concert tees were out, even if they weren’t my first choice for work.
Doing my hair was a feat of epic proportions. I couldn’t attempt a ponytail, or use a claw clip, or even a braid. It took me twice as long to get ready than normal, and I looked as though I’d put in half the effort. It was embarrassing.
After glancing at the time, I was way late. Dang it.
As much as I wanted to leave a note for Jeremy, I didn’t have the time. Plus, I had no idea where to put it. On my door so people knew I wasn’t there? That wasn’t smart. Leave it in the office? What if it was closed or something? Once I got on my break, I’d make a call to let Jeremy know … until then, I needed to motor. And fast.
By the time I reached the car, my elbow throbbed, and my head felt like someone was using it as a drum. “Focus,” I whispered, forcing my eyes to clear.
Driving one-handed was an awkward dance: reverse, grab the wheel, shift, release, repeat. Each gear change sent my car veering toward the center line, and I wrestled it back with gritted teeth.
As I was turned toward Jasper on the highway, my car veered to the centre line with each shift, and I had to yank it back into place. Thankfully, it was a short secondary highway, but still.
Flashing lights lit up behind me.
“Oh, come on,” I muttered as I stared into my rearview mirror. Another black mark for tardiness, and now a ticket to crown my disastrous weekend.
The RCMP pulled up behind me after I’d managed to pull over with some effort. I can’t even imagine what the cop was thinking.
He stomped over to my partially rolled down window. “Morning, Miss.”
“Was I speeding?” I was the variety of driver who always maintained the posted speed, not a hair over because theonetime I had gone over, I got a massive ticket. Taking a quick glance over the passenger seat for my wallet, my heart plunged into the depths of my rapidly souring stomach. My purse was sitting on my dresser. Inside my purse was my wallet. And inside that was my license.
“No, but your driving is erratic, borderline dangerous.” He took an assessing and roving glance over me and the interior of my car. Nothing was out of place. “Have you been drinking?”
“No, Sir.” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice.Please don’t ask for my license and registration.
Both thick brows went high enough to hide under his hat. “So it’s all your arm and the stick shift?”
I sighed and felt the rise of relief tears building that he understood. “Yes. Last night I damaged it.” He didn’t need to know the full details. “And well… driving a stick with only one working arm isn’t ideal.” My voice caught unexpectedly in my throat. “My deepest apologies, sir. I had planned on walking to work but it took longer than I expected to get ready and then I was running late. And I’m going to lose my job because I’m late far too many times for it to be nothing short of habitual.” Embarrassment-soaked tears blurred my vision.
“You know, I could write you a ticket for careless or dangerous driving.”