Wedding Derailed
The winter sun’s hue dimmed from a bright yellow to a deeper gold as it sank below the horizon. I fit Nancy’s luggage in my trunk. I cupped my hands, blew warmth into my fingers, and closed the trunk. I was taking a woman from Yakima to Seattle. The three-hour drive might take longer, with light snow expected. It was the weekend of Nancy’s wedding.
I worked as a police officer during the day and did Uber as a side hustle. Nancy finished work, and I was the only driver willing to take her.
“Seatbelt,” I said, pointing as though she didn’t know where to find it.
I reeled toward her. “You ready?”
Nancy held her hands directly before the vents, blasting hot air.
“Daniel is rich, you know?” Nancy said. “My fiance. He’s rich.”
I blinkered onto the road. I had snow tires on this four-wheel drive Jeep.
I lit a cancer stick, driving with my knees. “Lady, I just need the extra money.”
“It’s just that I can’t drive,” Nancy said, as though I should feel sorry for her.
I held the steering wheel, pumping my brake lights like flickering Christmas lights at stop signs and stoplights. The roads had patches of ice, and other parts had salted roads, which gave me faith that we’d make it.
“You on probation or something?” I glanced over and then returned my eyes to the road.
Nancy’s lips formed a stank face. She pinched her nose and waved away smoke with her free hand. “Do you always smoke with a customer?”
Fuck my life, I thought. This is going to be a long ride. I rolled down the window and tossed the cigarette out.
“Smells like a fucking chimney in here.”
“Lady, would you relax?” I gave a wry smirk.
“Me?” Nancy huffed. “Probation?”
“Lady, look, stranger things have happened.” I shrugged. “Meant nothing by it.”
Nancy held her hand to her mouth and laughed loudly, spilling my cup of coffee.
“Probation…” Nancy paused as though her thoughts drifted toward her first arrest. “I’m not a saint, you know?”
“Lady, you could be the devil. As long as I get paid, I’m good.”
“Do you want to hear something funny?”
“Try me.”
“I’ve never been arrested,” Nancy said.
“Gee, lady. You have a lot to be proud of.”
“You’re dismissive of me,” Nancy said. “Tell me about your time in jail?”
A defensive glance washed across my face. “I spent five years in the slammer.”
“Uh ha!” Nancy said, pointing at me. “Gang violence?”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” I said.
Christmas music hummed on the stereo.
Nancy patted her thighs to the beat of the classics.
“You better not cry,” I said, glancing at her and jetting my eyes back at the road.
“You better not shout,” Nancy said through words hard to decipher over her laughter.
The engine light turned on, and the blood drained from my face. “This can’t be happening.” I veered to the shoulder of the road with my yellow hazards flashing orange. The motor stuttered and whined.
“Think it’s serious?”
“No,” I said, knowing it must be severe. I popped the hood, wiggled my fingers into a pair of brown gloves, and brought my phone for its flashlight. I exited the Jeep, shut the door, and went to the hood. I opened it and scanned the fuses and the battery. An engine belt wore thin. I blew out my lips. I raked my fingers through my hair. I slammed the hood, startling Nancy.
I climbed into the car and shut the door, gripping the steering wheel.
“That bad, huh?” Nancy crossed her arms and arched a brow.
I folded my lips under my teeth before humor lifted the corner of my mouth.
“My dad always told me I wouldn’t amount to shit.”
“And that’s funny, why?”
“Because…” I choked back tears. “He was right.”
“You’re a police officer, and…”
“How’d you know that?”
“You told—”
“I never told you that,” I said.
“So, I may or may not know of you from a mutual friend.”
I crinkled my eyes and waved my finger. “Jessica, she put you up to this.”
“Do you really think I’d have a fiance?” Nancy said. “I mean, look at me.”
I looked her over. “I think…”
“You think, what?”
“You’re an attractive woman.”
“That’s it?” Nancy puffed out her lower lip.
I gave a sheepish grin. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Really?” Nancy said, batting her lashes.
“Really.”
The moon inched up the sky, showing a steady fall of white flakes.
“About my criminal history, DNA evidence and a witness proved me innocent.”
Nancy reached to intermingle her hand with mine. “I know,” Nancy said. “My stepfather filed your appeal.”
“I don’t love Daniel.”
I chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Nancy looped her arms around her waist.
“I could tell you never loved him; you just wanted someone. Someone like me.”
Nancy blushed and cleared her throat. “At first, I thought I’d give him a try,” Nancy said. “My mother insisted.”
“And you never cared about his money, did you?”
The landscape of her face oozed with contempt, and then her eyes softened. “I thought you were accusing me of wanting Daniel’s money.”
“I said you didn’t want his money.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t you I was supposed to marry? We’re arguing like newlyweds.”
We both laughed.
I moved in, cupped her cheeks, and pressed my lips to hers.
Nancy’s friends lit the tree and started the fireplace.
“Your friends…”
“They’re here,” Nancy said.
We embraced before she guided me to meet my future in-laws.
By Andy Cooper
From: United States
Twitter: AC0040