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“Unless you don’t have Will’s number?”

“I have his daughter’s number,” I said, pulling out my phone. I was momentarily distracted by a new text notification from an unknown number.

My heart jumped in my chest as I opened it. I didn’t know it would be him.

But it was.

Unknown:Hey, this is Will. I was serious about the tires—my sister’s got someone else running her garage while she’s away so I’ll have to arrange it for you to make sure you get family pricing. Let me know when. And don’t try to drive!

A flickerof annoyance went through me. He was all business. And who was he to tell me not to drive?

The guy who pulled you out of a ditch last night.

Okay, fine.

But there was a follow-up text, too.

Unknown:P.S. I had a good time last night. I’m sorry I was a dick.

Just like that,the annoyance drained away. Not completely, but his self-awareness made it hard to stay too mad. He wasn’t a dick. Well, maybe a little. But if he was, I was too. He’d asked me about my blog, and I’d chewed his head off.

But I also didn't need to be hand-held with the car.

“What are you frowning at?”

I jerked my head up. My sister was too far away to see the screen.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Really.”

“My car,” I said, standing up. I peered out the back door window at my car, currently under a thin dusting of snow. I looked at Reese, sheepishly explaining what had happened with the car.

She was aghast. “Talk about burying the lede! Why didn’t you say something?” Suddenly she was in big sister mode. “How did that happen? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “It was just embarrassing.” I explained about the tires.

While Reese admonished me, I looked out on the snowy drive leading up to my house. I knew she—and Will—were right, I shouldn’t have driven last night, and I shouldn’t today. Even if I could make it to Barkley Falls. Maybe Millerville, which was more of a straight shot and had more garages—ones that weren’t affiliated with the Archer family.

No. Not only was it just as ludicrous to think of driving to Millerville on bald tires as Barkley Falls, last night Will had told me he could get my car fixed at cost. That could mean saving hundreds of dollars. Probably even a thousand, considering everything it needed. Was I really going to put my pride ahead of that much money?

The thought of calling Will and asking for help made my stomach somehow flip and sink at the same time.

Yes, I was. For as long as I could anyway.

“I’ll drive you anywhere you need to go,” Reese was saying.

But I shook my head. I didn’t need to focus on my car or on Will Archer right now. “I don’t need to go anywhere this weekend,” I said brightly. “Not now that you’re here. Let’s get the girls and build a snowman.”

10

Michelle

Isurvived three days without the car before my obstinance finally had to take a backseat to necessity. Technically, I could have gone a bit longer. The girls got picked up for school by the school bus, I worked from home, and Nona had taught me years ago how to stretch very few ingredients into something delicious.

But by the time Tuesday rolled around, I’d used the last of the milk on the girls’ cereal and there was no bread left for me to make a slice of toast. Macy got upset because we’d run out of glue for her take-home art project, and I’d had to get creative with making a flour and water paste to make repairs to her haunted house before rushing them out to meet the school bus.

I would have held out longer—glue was hardly a reason to go to town. But right after I waved them off, Hank had called asking if the girls wanted to go trick-or-treating with his stepson Sam on Wednesday. I felt like I hadn’t seen nearly enough of Joe’s best friend since moving here. I told myself I wasn’t avoiding him—I loved Hank, and his fiancé Casey too. But it was always just the slightest bit triggering to see him; specifically, the scar on his arm, knowing it was from the same fire that took my husband. Still, each time I saw him, it hurt less. We were friends in our own right too. And the girls would never forgive me if they learned they’d been invited to trick-or-treat with Sam, the cool ‘older’ ten-year-old boy. So, I told him of course we’d go.