Roadside Assistance

She sat on the ground, leaning her back against the stationary bus tire, an empty shot glass in hand. As she watched a passing car on the otherwise vacant highway, a flash of headlight reflected off the mostly full bottle of tequila that sat beside her. Loud metallic banging echoed into the empty night at the rear of the bus, and kept her from hearing the footsteps in the dirt beside the road.

She looked up in surprise when a voice called her.

"Ma? What's going on?" Faith asked as she approached, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Are we there yet?"

Sylvia patted the ground beside her, inviting her daughter to sit. "Nope, the bus broke down. Bob's working on the engine now. Says it'll take a few hours."

"Oh, so that's what that noise was," the girl grumbled as she plopped down beside her mother, without an ounce of grace. "How far are we?"

The woman grinned and pointed to the not-too-distant city lights farther down the road.

"Oh, you're kidding me," Faith whined, "We're practically right there! And this piece of junk conks out now?" She knocked her fist against the steel side of the bus for emphasis.

Syl chuckled as she poured herself a second shot of tequila. "Yeah, pretty much."

"It would be faster if we just walked the rest of the way!"

"We could run it."

"What?" Faith glared at her mother, as the woman threw back her head and gulped down her drink. "Ma, how many of those have you had?"

"Just two, love," she replied as she inverted her shot glass and used it to cap the bottle. "Don't worry, I'm done." With a sigh, Syl sat back against the wheel.

They sat without speaking for a long time, watching random solitary cars zoom past and listening to the bus repairs since the banging seemed to have scared away all the crickets.

Faith interrupted the silence first.

"You still miss Uncle Cabot, don't you."

Sylvia gave a start, surprised by the question though her daughter's tone made it sound more like a statement of fact. "Excuse me?"

The girl shrugged, seemingly indifferent, and watched another car drive by. "I still hear you cry over him at night."

Her mother was silent for a long moment before she replied. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." She was surprised her voice didn't crack this time.

"Why?"

"I guess," she paused and shook her head. "It's because I still love him."

"Even though he's dead."

There was a pause in the banging at the rear. For a few minutes, the crickets returned before the bus driver started swearing and the banging resumed.

"Yeah. Even though he's dead."

Faith leaned back against the wheel, thinking before she responded. "Love is confusing. That makes no sense."

"It never does."

They sat in silence again, before Sylvia finally sighed, stood up and stretched. "So you wanna run the rest of the way to the city tonight?" She grinned, "It'll mean I won't have to wake you up for a morning jog."

"Well yeah, if you put it that way, Ma," Faith grinned back, willing to do it if it meant a chance to sleep in.

"Okay," Syl leaned down to pick up the bottle of tequila and shot glass, then nodded towards the rear of the bus. "Lemme just give this to Bob, then we'll put some mileage on our shoes."

Another car sped past, a sleek sportscar, and caught Faith's eye. "Hey, wait. Doesn't Uncle Neil drive a Lamborghnini?"

"Yeah, why?"

The girl pointed to the bright tail lights shrinking into the distance in the direction of the city. "Could that be him?"

Chuckling, Syl pulled out her cel phone and began to dial. "Well, there's only one way to find out."

The Fountain...

The problem with travelling the world with someone you loved, she realized, was that when you lose them, everywhere you go had something that reminded you of them.

With a rose in her hand, she sat at the edge of the huge fountain, watching the illuminated waters of its vast pool lap in the gentle night breeze. There was a local superstition that said if you threw three coins in the fountain you would someday return to the city married to your true love.

She knew this wasn't true; his absence was living proof of that.

Looking over the water, she closed her eyes and remembered...

We were in Rome for a friend's wedding, though neither of us knew we were both on the guest list until we had run into each other at the airport. After that moment, we were inseparable the rest of our time here.

After the reception, we wandered the city, still in our formal wear and my baby girl asleep in my arms. The champagne and the excitement of the occasion probably kept us from realizing it was more practical to head back to the hotel for a good night's sleep instead.

We ended up here by the fountain that night and it looked exactly like how it does right now, with the lights illuminating the quietly lapping water and the sculpted works of the Renaissance masters. All we did was sit and talk about nothing, about everything, as we stared out over the pool of glowing water together. The world couldn't have been more perfect in that moment.

And I wanted that moment again someday.

I didn't tell him the myth about the coins, or that I had slipped three of them into the waters when he wasn't looking before we left...

She felt the tears welling up again, when she opened her eyes to stare out over the pool of glowing water alone.

She wore the same black dress she had worn that night years ago, and she could still see him in her mind, his dress shirt half tucked in and as ruffled as his perpetually ruffled hair, his tie dangling loose around his neck and his jacket slung over his shoulder. Appropriate post-party attire.

And he was smiling at her, like he always did, a lop-sided grin that mirrored a spark of mischief and a love for life in his eyes.

She hated knowing those same eyes were now six-feet under, dead in his grave.

Wiping her eyes, she slipped the rose she held into the pool.

She sat there watching the flower float away until it was swallowed by the cascading water falling from one of the sculpted statutes on the far side of the fountain.

Run Time

She woke with a start. The loud banging at the door was so insistent that she thought there was some sort of emergency in the hotel. Then she heard his familiar voice boom through the thick wood.

"Let's go, you lazy ass!"

Glancing at the nearby alarm clock, she buried her face in her pillow and swore.

Neil had a cheerful smile on his face when she finally opened the door still wearing the oversized T-shirt she had slept in.

"Come on! 6am! Time for a run!"

She fought the urge to smack him upside the head. If she hadn't missed their early morning runs so much, she would have done just that and gone back to bed. But these runs had always been a chance to spend quality time with 'her big brother'.

After Cabot died, she didn't want to risk losing any more quality time with the few people she cared about still left in her life.

"Oh, and in the future," he added as she sleepily rubbed her eyes. Laughing, he stepped past her through the open door, likely to keep it from getting slammed in his face if she got upset at his next quip. "I retract permission for you to go bat-shit-neurotic-crazy in general."

Her brain stumbled at the words she heard, not used to processing anything complex so early in the morning. It took her a moment to realize he wasn't rescinding his promise to be there if she needed anything like she first thought his words implied.

He just wanted her to get off her ass and stop feeling sorry for herself.

She wanted the same thing, but it had been harder to do on her own.

"Less yelling at me and more moving! Come on!" She heard him chirp, as she changed to her running gear in an adjoining room of the hotel suite. Where did the guy get the energy to be this cheery so early in the day? He sounded like an over-enthusiastic gym coach. All he needed was a whistle. "Time for a run, 'cause, yes, you are old and you need to get your ass out there and move it rather than sitting at your laptop mendozaing people's inboxes."

She rolled her eyes, but had the faint traces of a grin as she slipped on her old pair of running shoes.

"I'm gonna buy Danny a beer for that one," he chuckled from the first room.

She called back, with a little more grin on her lips. "Well, you'd better get to him before I do, 'cuz I'm gonna kill him for the same reason and he'd be too dead to enjoy that beer if I see him first." She tied up her laces, then jogged in place a few times to make sure her runners still fit properly.

Neil smirked. "Now move it. 'Less you got a guy here and you are busy, that is?"

There was a pause.

When she re-entered the room where he was waiting, the grin had fallen away. "'Busy'?" The euphemism echoed hollow in her ears. "I haven't seen anyone since... forget it."

She was out the door before he could reply.

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