A Song for the Road by Kathleen Basi (classic literature books txt) 📕

caught her hand. “Did I tell you my parents worked on car assembly lines?” she said. “My dad knew everything about cars. We weren’t allowed to drive until we knew the basics. If I can change the oil, I can certainly change a tire.”

“Really?”

“Really. I just need daylight and a break in the rain. It’s going to be okay.”

Dicey relaxed. “I hope I get to be half as cool as you before I die.”

Miriam laughed. “I thought we’d already established that you’re way cooler than me.”

She spread the sleeping bag over the two of them as best she could. Dicey moved restlessly, this way and that, coughing and spitting.

“You all right?” Miriam asked.

“My back hurts.”

“Turn the other way. I’ll rub it for you.”

Dicey’s taut posture relaxed as Miriam kneaded her lower back. It was a terrible angle, and Miriam’s thumbs started to hurt, but she kept at it. The wind settled to a low whoosh.

“Deandra,” Dicey said quietly.

Miriam paused. “What?”

“Baby Girl’s name. I think, at least.”

Miriam’s breath caught. For the first time, Dicey had let down her armor, here in this deep darkness. “What’s it mean?” she asked in a whisper, afraid to shatter the moment.

“Divine protector.”

“That’s a good meaning.”

“I wanted a strong name for her.”

“You did good.”

Dicey shifted again. Momentarily, Miriam felt the younger woman’s hand brush against hers. She clasped it.

The rain continued to patter on the roof of the car. Dicey’s breathing slowed; Miriam’s insides relaxed.

Teo felt very close in this moment. One snowy night in Philly, she’d fallen asleep on his lap as he read from “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” When she awoke, the house was quiet, though the wind blew outside and snow hissed against the windowpane. Teo was sitting awake, still stroking her arm, watching the fire crackle. She’d felt safe. Protected.

Tonight it was her turn. Miriam closed her eyes and drifted, counting the breaths between each of her companion’s coughs. Something had changed between her and Dicey just now, and Miriam along with it. She knew she wouldn’t sleep much tonight. She was on duty.

In the morning, they broke out the last of the snacks Miriam had bought in Cincinnati. They drank Dicey’s water bottles dry before either of them felt satisfied. Dicey looked tired and drawn, and her cough seemed worse. Miriam fretted, wondering if she should broach the topic again, but what good would it do? It wasn’t like there was a quick care clinic nearby.

She unloaded the trunk and excavated the donut. “Miriam Tedesco, rock star,” said Dicey as the first lug nut came loose. Miriam glanced up and saw her recording. “Seriously, Dicey,” she said, laughing.

The next lug nut wouldn’t budge. She skipped it in favor of starting the remaining ones, then returned, but it proved impervious to the force of the small wrench. She needed a longer lever, but rack her brain though she might, she couldn’t think of anything in the car that would work.

She put her body into it, but her shoes slipped in the gravelly mud and she slid partway down the berm at the edge of the road, earning nothing for her trouble except skinned knees and elbows. “Turn that off,” she snapped. What good was all Dad’s training if she didn’t have the tools she needed?

Dicey put her phone away. “So now what?”

Miriam checked her phone again. No signal. She swallowed. All night, she’d kept her cool by thinking in the morning they’d be on their way and back in contact with the world in short order. Being stuck here, literally in the middle of nowhere, was triggering some panic. “I guess we hope somebody comes by.”

They sat in the car. With nothing to drink, Dicey’s cough got progressively worse. The hacking, choking sound rubbed Miriam’s nerves raw.

This could not continue. Dicey needed water.

Miriam opened the door, and a blessed breath of fresh air swirled into the car. “I’m going to start walking,” she said. “Surely there’s got to be something …”

“Miriam!”

She looked up and saw it: an enormous pickup with a tow rig on the back coming toward them. It passed, stopped, turned around, and angled in front of them. A burly, bearded man in plaid button-up, jeans, and boots hopped down. “Morning, ladies,” he said, tipping his hat. “Name’s Buck Gardner. Looks like you could use a tow?”

Dicey burst into tears. Miriam just sagged with relief.

“My wife and I live down the road a little ways. I got a shop, I can get your tire changed for you. Can’t do nothin’ about the window, though. Whereabouts you headed?”

“Colorado Springs.”

“I know a good guy down there. I’ll give him a call here shortly. Toss your gear in the back of the truck there while I get you hooked up.”

Buck hooked the Sonata to his rig, and they got underway. He spent the ten-minute trip regaling them with an overview of the night’s storms, which pretty much beat the crap out of the entire central plains. Miriam couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid. Running off into the middle of nowhere without checking the weather.

The cell signal improved as they went; soon enough, her phone started dinging.

Jo: I told you to text us!

Mom: Please call me.

Becky: The Weather Channel talked about bad storms in eastern Colorado. Are you okay?

The tone of the messages escalated from there; she could practically hear the anxiety ratcheting up in their tone as the messages continued.

The missed calls fell off the bottom of the screen. Jo, Gus, Brad, Mom, Gus again, Becky, Simeon. Gus again. Talk about escalation.

Her battery died halfway through formulating a reply; using it for a flashlight had drained the battery. Miriam sighed and slid it into her pocket.

When they reached the ranch house, Buck apologized—“The wife’s away for the weekend”—and opened a box of gas station donuts before heading out to change the tire for them. Dicey nibbled at one without enthusiasm. Miriam ate with more relish, but her anxiety to contact her family was stronger than her hunger. She plugged in