Page 8 of A Real Goode Time

“Yeah, I’ll need it.”

She took a breath, shoved open the door and hopped down, closed it, and walked over to the front doors. I was about to take off when I noticed she’d left her backpack in the foot well. Plus, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

I couldn’t leave her here. Sleeping in a bus station sucks.

Crap.

So, I waited.

A few minutes later, she yanked the doors open and exited the bus station, standing in the rain, head down, shoulders shaking.

Dammit, she was crying.

She hadn’t noticed I was still here.

I put the Jeep in Neutral and yanked on the parking brake, leaned across the passenger seat to unzip the passenger window. “Hey! Torie!” I shouted, and then zipped it back up.

Her head whipped up, and she saw me. The shaking of her shoulders paused, and she came over and got back in the Jeep.

The Jeep was suddenly full of her, again. Wet girl, and sniffles. “You waited.”

“You weren’t going anywhere,” I said. “Buses to points more’n a couple hours from here leave in the morning.” I pointed at her backpack. “Plus, you forgot your bag.”

“Yeah, I noticed that as I stood at the counter wondering what the fuck I was gonna do.” She groaned. “The bus left at six thirty in themorning, not in the evening.” She laughed, bitterly. “I guess that’s what I get for checking bus times when I’m stoned.” Her head thunked back against the leather seat. “Now what do I do? Go back home and try again tomorrow?”

“You could.”

“I’d have to start walking at like, four in the morning to make a six-thirty bus.”

I winced. “Oof. That’d suck.” I gestured at the rain. “Especially since this shit is supposed to go on till, like, Wednesday.”

“Fuck.” She whacked her head back against the seat again. “Ihaveto get to Alaska. My sister’s wedding is in two weeks. I have three hundred and twenty-nine dollars to my name, and I’ve only got that much because my roommates said they’d cover my share of rent this month. I have no car, and I won’t ask for help from my family.”

I’ve always had an issue with my mouth running ahead of my brain. Case in point:

“I don’t live too far from here. Stay with me. I’ll drive you over in the morning.” I realized she might think I was coming onto her and, I mean, she wouldn’t have been entirely wrong. But still. “I have a pull-out couch. I don’t mean anything…forward.”

She turned away. “I…I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“Not imposing if I offer,” I said. “I live alone. I have the hide-a-bed couch. You’d be close to the bus station and you’d have a guaranteed ride.” I grinned. “Plus, I make a mean pot of coffee.”

She laughed. “Is it weird if your offer of coffee is what changes my mind?”

“Nah,” I said, laughing with her. “I go to bed dreaming of coffee in the morning.”

She was staring at me. Searching, looking for something in me. To see if I was safe, maybe. “I have an older sister. I hope someone will help her out if she ever needs it. That’s it.”

“My roommates would not approve.”

“What about your family?”

“Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“What about your roommates?”

“Yeah, well, I promised to check in with them every night at nine.”

“I’ll talk to ’em, if it’ll put ’em at ease.”