Something so Grand Page 9

  She laughed. “Trucks are meant to be driven, Viv. If it solves your problem, take it. I know Owen would rather ride with you than take the shuttle. Lena couldn’t get a day off to take them this trip.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Sure. Miguel doesn’t mind dropping me home, do you?”

  “Nope,” he confirmed.

  “I won’t leave you without a car. If you’re letting me use yours, I’ll swap you mine.” I held the phone up and told Samantha the plan. She sighed in relief, said she’d tell the store, and hung up. “You’re very nice to offer, Natalie.”

  “It’s just a truck.”

  It wasn’t just a truck. It was something only a good friend would offer. She really was impressive.

  15 Natalie

  Nerves assaulted me. I had never been this nervous for anything before. It wasn’t even a date, but I was acting like it was. Secretly hoping I could at least stimulate her interest.

  In the restaurant parking lot, I checked my reflection again in the visor mirror. Ehh. I was over made up, over hair mussed, and overdressed. I should have worn a sweater instead of the blouse and cami combo. I should have gotten some khakis instead of black dress slacks. I should have worn loafers instead of sleek boots with heels. My hair had enough paste to give it body and an edgy style. My eyes had a smoky outline that drew attention, and I’d even added a dusky pink lip gloss. There was no way she wouldn’t know I had dressed up for her.

  My stomach felt like it was experiencing endless vertigo. I still had time to change my shirt, wipe some of this makeup off, and tame the hair. I tilted my head so I could examine my hair from every angle. Okay, no, I wouldn’t change my hair. It looked good tonight and might surprise her a bit. And my eyes, I’d leave those alone, too. The thick charcoal colored outline made the reddish hint to my brown eyes come alive. Screw it, I’d tried on everything I had that I didn’t wear to work. I couldn’t find anything better than what I was wearing, and the makeup just felt odd because I wasn’t used to wearing much to work. I looked okay overall. It would be really embarrassing when Vivian walked in wearing jeans and a turtleneck for a casual dinner with a friend, but if she didn’t want this to be a date, I’d only be embarrassed for tonight.

  I took a deep breath and slid out of the truck. I hoped she was already inside. I didn’t want to have to wait around the hostess stand until she arrived. I was five minutes early, decent enough to be respectful but not too early to make me look desperate.

  “It’s just dinner,” I muttered under my breath as I walked toward the restaurant. My insides fluttered in excitement and nervousness. It was just a dinner between friends, but if I could alter her mindset just a bit, I was going for it. She had a witty character and fiery spirit that engaged everyone she encountered. I really liked working with her and relished the stomach flutter I experienced every time she smiled at me.

  Through the door, my heart sank a little when I didn’t spot Vivian waiting. Now I’d have to go through the awkwardness of seeing if she was already seated or deciding if I should just turn around and wait in my truck until I saw her enter. That sounded like the best option, but what if she was already seated? I should have driven through the whole parking lot searching for her car first.

  “Good evening,” the hostess greeted.

  “Hi, I’m meeting someone.” My head was already craning around the hostess stand to look.

  “Take a look, but no one mentioned they were waiting on someone.”

  I couldn’t see Vivian at any of the occupied tables. Now what? Did I just stand here and wait? Should I head back outside? That would embarrass me, leaving as the hostess watched and coming back inside later like I hadn’t already been here.

  “We’re slow tonight if you want to sit at a table, or you can wait in the bar?” she offered.

  My brain froze for a moment. I glanced over into the busy bar. I should really go in there, but where would I sit? I might not be able to see the hostess stand from in there. But if I go into the dining room, I’d have to explain that I was waiting on someone and make the waiter start counting the minutes until he could turn the table over. I should have thought through all the possibilities or shown up five minutes late instead.

  “The bar?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll take a table if that works.”

  “Very well,” the woman said, grabbing two leather bound menus and leading me at a snail’s pace to a two person table left center of the room.

  I felt exposed but understood that they wanted to reserve the larger tables at the windows and along the wall for bigger parties. I took a seat facing the entrance so I could keep a look out. “Thank you.”

  “For whom are you waiting?” She gave me an expectant look that turned almost suspicious when I didn’t respond. “So I can lead him back right away.”

  I opened my mouth but couldn’t think of what to say. She thought I was meeting a man for dinner because she could see I was dressed for a date. Since I wasn’t sure about Vivian’s comfort level with people knowing about her sexuality, I closed my mouth.

  “I’m sure I’ll spot him right away,” she assured me and left the table.

  I figured Vivian would just tell her she was meeting a friend when she walked in and brush past her with that graceful confidence she had. I just hope she recognized me out of work clothes.

  “Hello, my name is Isaac. I’ll be your server tonight.” A short, skinny guy pulled an order book from his apron. “What can I get you to drink while we wait for your companion?”

  I wondered how he knew I was waiting for someone, but I couldn’t expend more nervous energy on the thought. To give him hope of making good tip money tonight, I ordered ice tea instead of sticking with water. I’d rather have a soft drink, but that wasn’t a date drink. Neither was ice tea, but I wouldn’t drink tonight. It would put me off guard, and I needed my senses if I was going to attempt to do this.

  He left and soon returned with my beverage and a basket of bread. I stared at the basket, wondering if it was okay to have a piece of bread while I waited. It was rude to start eating before my dining companion, so I should wait.

  I checked my watch ten minutes later. I’d been sipping my ice tea and glancing around the luxurious dining room to occupy my time. Vivian probably had the same idea I had in wanting to arrive after I had to avoid the very awkwardness I was experiencing.

  After another ten minutes, Isaac came to check on me. He tried to find some way to ask if I was early or my companion late without making it seem like I was a loser for waiting alone at a table in the middle of the room. He tried to assure me that ordering an appetizer wouldn’t be rude to have waiting for when my companion arrived. I let him talk me into something. When he walked away, I couldn’t remember what I’d ordered or if I’d like it. She was fifteen minutes late.

  The appetizer arrived after another fifteen minutes. Isaac set them on the table and glanced at the unopened menu sitting on the place setting across from me. “One of the servers told me the plows are out on the highway and slowing all the traffic into town. I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”

  I smiled and nodded while my insides twisted and turned. I could feel heat pulsing close to my skin. I hoped I didn’t start perspiring. My job was pretty much all manual labor and I rarely sweated, but nerves could make me perspire. Half hour late.

  I read the menu another five times before I allowed myself to look at my watch again. She’d had a client meeting after our work day ended. Maybe it ran long. Maybe she spilled coffee on her blouse and had to run home to change before she could meet me. Maybe her nephews caught her before she ran out the door and she lost track of time. Maybe she got an emergency phone call on her way out to meet me, and it shook her so much she forgot to call to tell me she wouldn’t make it.

  Or maybe she just forgot. It was a spur of the moment invitation issued right before she left for her meeting. She could have gotten caught up in a new client project and completely forgott
en that we’d made dinner plans.

  It had to be some good reason for her to be forty-five minutes late. Vivian was not the type of person to stand me up. My stomach now felt queasy. All the excitement, then nerves, and now embarrassment every time Isaac came near my table or tried to give me an encouraging smile did not help my stomach at all. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat if Vivian did show up.

  I’d debated calling at the thirty minute mark. That had been enough time not to seem like I was a pushy bitch, but what would I say? “Hey, Vivian, remember we had a date tonight that I know wasn’t actually a date, but I was hoping would become a date because you’re amazing and kindhearted?” I’d been rehearsing what I could say for the last fifteen minutes, and now it seemed like it might be too late to call and say, “Did I get the night wrong? Did you get held up? Were you asking Miguel to dinner and not me?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac heading in my direction. When he stopped at another table, I pressed my phone to my ear to make it look like I was having a conversation. I signed off on my imaginary call when Isaac came up to me.

  “Tied up with a family emergency it seems,” I lied. “If you’ll bring the check, I’ll head over to see if I can help out.”

  He smiled, but I could see disbelief in his eyes. He knew I’d been stood up, but he was decent enough not to say anything. He was probably pissed because his tip wouldn’t amount to much with a drink and an appetizer, but I couldn’t let that bother me. I had enough bothering me.

  By the time I cleared the restaurant, it was an hour after I’d stepped through the doors. Disappointment besieged me. I looked better than I’d ever looked in recent history, hell, probably in my life. I’d been ready to at least flirt with her to show my interest if she seemed like she would have gone for it. This was the first real date I’d been on in years, and I wanted to do everything right. But she didn’t show.

  She didn’t show.

  I decided to call but didn’t know what to say when her voicemail picked up. She’d know I called by the missed call list. I didn’t need to leave a message asking if I’d misinterpreted her dinner invitation to be an actual invitation instead of just a suggestion.

  On the way back to my place, I tried not to dwell on the fact that she hadn’t shown. There had to be a good reason. She wasn’t the type of person to leave me hanging like that. Even if she had second thoughts about turning our friendly working relationship into a real friendship, she would have called and made an excuse. We had to work together. Or maybe this was her way of saying this would be our last job together.

  No. She wasn’t like that. It would be a good reason. It had to be.

  16 Natalie

  A half hour later I sat on my bed, staring out my window and knowing she’d have a good reason. I checked my phone again. No messages, no missed calls. I hadn’t changed because I didn’t want to. I still thought it was possible that she’d gone really long on her client meeting and would soon be racing out to her car and dialing her phone to see if I wanted to grab a late bite or drink somewhere. It was still fairly early. We could do that. I liked her enough to accept any excuse she had.

  My keys called out to me. I hopped off the bed, slid into my boots, and grabbed my keys and phone. I could go for a drive to occupy my time. That way I’d be that much closer to anywhere she might suggest if she did call.

  The two lane road was dark and not recently plowed. Guilt ate at my stomach as I drove slowly along this road that I knew led out to the client meeting Vivian had made. I figured I could check. If it made me a stalker, so be it. I had to eliminate this as a possible reason. If her car was in the client’s driveway as I passed by, my stomach could let me sleep tonight. If it wasn’t, well, I didn’t want to think about all the other possibilities again.

  As I came around a bend in the road, my headlights flashed on something that wasn’t a tall bank of snow. I slowed to a crawl. With no streetlights or houselights nearby, it was hard to define the shape. I inched closer and turned on my high beams. It was an abandoned car, a white SUV up against two pine trees about ten feet from the road. It had blown through the berm on the side and smashed into the trees.

  When I was at the road’s edge, I pulled over and kept my lights on. I stepped onto the running board and peered into the darkness. It wasn’t until I was looking down at an angle that I realized it was a Lexus. A white Lexus SUV. The same model and color of Vivian’s car.

  I jumped down without thinking about how impractical my dress boots were for this trek. Jogging as fast as I could once I hit the berm and eighteen inches of fresh powder off the road, I made my way over to her car. The whole time I was praying that she wasn’t in the car. That she had walked back to her client’s remote house and was now warm and unhurt.

  When I reached the window, I could see a dark shadow inside. Jesus. She was in there. I stepped out of the beam of light from my truck and noted her head was tilted against the window, the air bag open.

  “Vivian?” I shouted.

  No movement. I called her name again, tapping on the window. Nothing. I went for the door handle and realized that I shouldn’t try to open her door. She wasn’t moving, which meant she could be injured and any movement would be detrimental. I reached for the rear door handle. It was locked.

  A loud curse left my lips as I trudged through the snow to the other side. However it happened, a spin out probably, propelled her car into the larger tree. The passenger side door was completely smashed in, window broken, letting all the below freezing wind into the car. I tried the rear hatch, locked, same with the rear passenger door. I slipped around the tree where her car was pinned and reached forward through the broken window to unlock the doors. I shouted with triumph when I heard the locks disengage.

  The rear passenger door had been damaged badly and wouldn’t open. I raced around to the other rear door. It took great effort to pull it open. The frame must have bent in the accident.

  I eased onto the seat, trying not to jostle her position up front. The inside of the car was barely warmer than the air outside. God, if she’d been here this whole time, she’d be close to hypothermic now.

  Tilting forward through the two front seats, I faced her. “Vivian,” I said softly this time.

  What I saw seized my heart. Her head lay against the window, pushed there by the force of the impact against the tree and the press of the airbag. Blood covered the side of her face from a cut to her forehead when she hit the window. Shallow breath plumes came from her lips, but she wasn’t responding to my voice or presence. She was knocked out, probably concussed, maybe hypothermic.

  With a light touch to her cheek, I spoke her name again. I couldn’t move her. The tilt of her head said she could have a neck injury. I wouldn’t chance making it worse. She needed warmth. That I could do. I lifted up over the back seat to check her cargo area. Like every good local, she had a blanket in the car for just such an emergency. I pulled it out and gently arranged it around her. She had her jacket on, but with the window busted, she’d been exposed to subfreezing weather for too long.

  I’d stupidly left my cellphone in my truck. It took every ounce of will for me to leave her to get to it. I took off my jacket and added it to her layers. Dashing back out into the snow, I slipped with every other step back to the truck.

  Calling emergency services wasn’t as easy as I’d thought it would be. Getting past the panic, it becomes a lot of questions for which I didn’t have many answers. I tried to pinpoint our location and what was wrong with Vivian as I scrambled to find my own blanket and work coat. After confirming that I shouldn’t move her, I was assured that an ambulance would be here soon.

  As I left the warmth of my truck, I tried not to think about how cold it was for Vivian or how wet the bottom half of my slacks were or that I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. Vivian had been freezing and hurt for at least two hours. So what if I got minor frostbite because dress shoes were entirely impractical for trudging through snow.

>   Back in Vivian’s car, I eased forward onto the center console. I couldn’t use the passenger seat because it was covered in glass and only half the usual size due to the tree shaped indent in the door. I doubled up my blanket and swept it over her legs, tucking gently so as not to move her. I added my work coat to the bundle on her torso, gathering it around her chin without moving her head. She was as warm as I could get her without wrapping myself around her, which I couldn’t do because of a possible neck injury.

  It seemed to take forever, but finally I heard the wail of a siren in the distance. “They’re here, Viv. You’re going to be okay.” I didn’t realize until I heard the sirens that I’d been speaking aloud the entire time, assuring her, telling her that it wouldn’t be long, letting her know that she wasn’t alone. “You’ll be fine. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  The ambulance pulled in back of my truck, and the EMTs made their way through the snow to us. “Is she alert?”

  “She hasn’t moved or said a word since I got here,” I checked my watch, “twenty minutes ago. She’s been here at least two hours based on what I know of her schedule.”

  They started talking to each other, trying to figure out the best way to remove her. The female EMT jumped into my spot and slipped a collar around her neck. As soon as it was secure, she braced Vivian against the seat as the male EMT opened the driver door. They lowered Vivian against his chest and slipped the backboard into position to strap her in.

  As they began the trek back to the ambulance, a cold gust whipped through me. I turned back and reached into her car for my jacket and slipped it on. Marginally warmer, I followed the slow progression to the ambulance.

  They slid her onto the stretcher in the back of the ambulance. She looked so vulnerable. I felt a lump form in my throat, scared that she might be severely injured.

  The female EMT looked up and gestured for me to get in. “If she wakes up on the way, she’ll want a friendly face. Come on.”