Maybe I should find Ember. Shouldn't be that hard, right? That bright orange bus with all those stickers sorta stands out.
I cruise aimlessly through downtown Three Rivers and find no sign of her or her bus. I prowl north of town as far as the beach where I last saw her and then cut through the neighborhoods north of town on my way back south. She's not at any of the restaurants, cafes, or stores in town or around it.
Finally, on a whim, I decide to check the YMCA—the only chain gym in town. There are plenty of independently owned gyms, but my thinking is that if she lives in her van, she needs a place to shower, and having a membership to the Y means she'd have access all over the country.
And…bingo. Her bus is parked at the back of the lot, and she's walking out to it with a gym bag over her shoulder and her hair pulled back in a wet braid. She seems upset though—she yanks the sliding door open rather aggressively, hurls her bag in, and then slumps to her butt in the open doorway, shoulders hunched.
I park a few spots away, and she doesn't look up at me until my boots are in her line of sight.
She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Felix!"
I hesitate and then point at the open space beside her. "May I?"
She slides over with a nod. "Sure."
She's trying to act like she wasn't just crying, or that her eyes aren't still red and watery.
"Um." I clear my throat. "What's going on? Anything I can do? Or…or just…listen?"
She swallows hard. "My bus died. Like, dead-dead.”
"Dead how?"
"I don't know for sure. But there was a loud grinding noise, a thunk, and then the engine just conked out. I barely made it to this parking spot. It won't turn over, just makes this godawful noise like she's sick."
I wince. "Oof. That's not good."
She sniffles. "No, it's fucking not. Pumpkin is my home. She's all I have. Everything I own is in here. I can't even get myself to a short-term rental or a motel. I don't know what to do." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. It's not your problem. I shouldn't vent to you, of all people."
I frown at this. "Why me of all people?"
She takes a long, shuddering inhale, holds it, and lets it out slowly while wiping at her eyes. "I feel bad about that day at the beach. I just…you took me by surprise, and I—"
"Hey, no, that's okay, Ember. It's fine. I was stupid and overly sensitive. I ran off without giving you a chance to even think. I know you’ve got…things…that you don't want to talk about which might make me asking you out a tricky situation. I should have been more considerate."
She shoots me a lopsided smile. "Youdidtake off. I called after you, and I even chased you all the way up those stupid stairs, all one million of them."
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I…I don't have an excuse. I have explanations, but no excuses."
"I'm sorry, too, Felix. I…I have a feeling it wasn’t easy for you to ask, and I know I should have given you a better answer, even if it was just ‘I need a minute to think about it.’ I know when a guy asks you out, 'let me think about it' isn't what they want to hear, but…."
"It wasn't easy, no. But I…I mean, I don't get it, because I don't know from personal experience what you’ve been through exactly, but I get it." I hesitate, licking my lips as nerves sing through me. "I, uh, I have a flatbed back at the yard, and my buddy Nyx is the best mechanic in town. I also happen to know he specializes in vintage auto repair."
She tries to smile, but it's wobbly. "That's very sweet, Felix, but then what? Where do I go while it's being repaired? What if it needs a whole new engine?"
"What about Faye?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "I'd ask, and I’ve thought about it, believe me, but she's been under the weather lately. She says she's fine, but I worry. She's even talking about finally finding somewhere in California near her daughter and grandkids." Another shake of her head. "She should go to California. I love her weird, crazy ass, and I'd miss her, but I think she…" she swallows hard. "I don’t even want to say it."
"She doesn't have a lot of time left," I say.
"No," she whispers. "I think she senses it, too."
"Look, let's just get your van out of this parking lot and have Nyx look at it, and go from there."
She nods. "Okay. I…I don't want to impose." She shrugs. “It's not like I have a lot of other choices."
"Come on," I say, and without thinking, I clap my hand on her thigh, a familiar gesture of comfort—except I barely know her and it's way too intimate, especially since she's wearing super short denim Daisy Dukes, so her thigh is bare and warm and smooth under my palm. I yank my hand away. "Sorry. I—sorry."
