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Pit Stop "Happy now?" Nicky grumbled.
She looked over at her husband, then at the gas gauge on the dashboard of their '96 Jeep Grand Cherokee, which was hovering dangerously on the "E" at the bottom.
"I'm not helping you push this thing, Paul." She stated matter-of-factly.
Paul's brow furrowed, but he said nothing.
"Don't get mad at me," Nicky said in response. "I'm not the one who was sure he could find a cheaper gas station out here."
It was true. Paul was the one that had chosen this particular freeway exit. Paul was also the one who had quickly dismissed the lone Chevron station near the freeway, complaining that the price was way too high. And it was Paul who had driven them around the back roads of Arkansas for the last half hour, determined to find a cheaper gas station... although at this point, the savings on every gallon of gas probably wouldn't make up for the miles they traveled to find it.
Paul was angry, but not at his wife. He was angry with himself for yet another instance of bad judgment.
Nicky sighed. It wasn't that Paul didn't mean well... he did. He was one of the most decent and good men Nicky had ever known, which is why she married him. But it would be nice if he would look at the big picture every once in a while... like realizing that making it to the meeting on time was more important than saving ten cents a gallon on a tank of gas.
As they continued to drive, Nicky's fear increased, that they would not only miss the meeting, but that they'd also find themselves rolling to a shuddering stop with an empty tank in the middle of nowhere on some backwater road.
When they passed a small sign welcoming them to Love City, Population 256, Nicky put her foot down.
"I don't care what it costs here. Just fill up the tank and get us back out to the freeway. We're running late enough as it is."
"Well I wonder why that is!" Paul snapped back, referring to her three wardrobe changes and thirty-minute shower that put them behind schedule in the first place. He knew it was petty, but he was too stubborn and proud to just take criticism from her without venting and dishing out some of his own.
They rolled into a gas station halfway down the town's main street and pulled to a stop at one of the pumps. Paul let out an audible sigh and looked over at his wife, offering his hand in a conciliatory gesture.
"I'm sorry," he said, earnestly. "I know how much we've got riding on this thing."
Nicky took his hand and squeezed it. They both knew what was at stake. Between his being laid-off at the agency, and her finding out unexpectedly that they were pregnant, both of them knew what would happen if this venture failed. They would end up having to get rid of their apartment in the city, and most likely moving in with her parents, who would alternate between lecturing them about how irresponsible they were to get pregnant, and insisting on involving themselves in every aspect of the baby's life. Neither felt that was an acceptable option.
They had always planned on starting a family. And to be fair, they were being safe. But fate intervened and gave them a child. Unexpectedly early, to be sure, but certainly not unwanted. Paul had been working at the agency for about a year and a half at that point, had secured some great clients, and was well on his way to a successful and profitable career. That is, until everyone found out that the agency's CEO and CFO had been embezzling funds from the company for years, and fled the country with their ill-gotten gains, leaving the agency crippled. The board had to take emergency action to preserve the company, which included laying off most of their employees and offering substantial rate cuts in order to keep their worried clients.
Fortunately, several of Paul's clients liked him on a personal level, and one of them was willing to let Paul pitch him and possibly represent his company independently, especially in the wake of his agency's shakeup. The client had a multi-million dollar corporation, and the ad campaign for that one client alone would ensure their financial security for the next several years, especially if he didn't have to split the profits with any partners!
"I'll be right back," Paul said. "Do you want anything?"
"A bottle of water would be great," Nicky replied.
Paul swiped his credit card at the pump and started filling the tank before heading toward the convenience store, only to find the door locked. Peering inside, he confirmed the place was empty.
He turned back to Nicky and shrugged.
"Must be at lunch or something," he called out.
Then it hit him. Looking around, Paul couldn't find anybody. No cars, no pedestrians... no customers in any of the shops. The town was empty.
When the tank was full, Paul climbed back into the Jeep.
"Where is everybody?" Nicky asked as they turned back the way they came.
"I dunno."
On the outskirts of town, Paul and Nicky passed the cemetery, where apparently all two hundred and fifty residents of Love City, Arkansas had gathered. Before she could protest, Paul's curiosity got the better of him and he pulled into a nearby parking space.
"What are you doing?" Nicky asked. "We're going to be late for the meeting!"
"Don't you want to know why the whole town is out here?" He asked, a glimmer of boyish inquisitiveness in his eyes. "Come on, it'll only take a minute."
Nicky sighed and got out of the car, following her husband. She was only a few months along, and still maintained her slender figure... but she knew the days of hopping out of a car and jogging across the street were coming to an end. Soon, she'd be the size of an elephant, waddling around with sore ankles and an aching back. She shuddered at the thought, and pushed it as far from her mind as possible.
Not yet, she told herself.
As Paul and Nicky entered the cemetery and moved toward the crowd, they saw that it was a beautiful service for which, indeed, the whole town had turned out. When they got a little closer, they looked at the easel that had been erected with a picture of the deceased in happier times.
Nicky gasped.
Paul had to grab her for support as her knees gave out.
"Nicky? Are you okay?"
"Th-That woman..." Nicky stuttered. "That's Kimberly Miller!"
"Your college roommate?"
Nicky could only nod an affirmation as the color drained from her face.
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Paul had heard many, many stories about Kimberly Miller. She and Nicky had been paired together for all four of their college years. Kimberly, with her Southern charm and her virginal innocence had been a standout, to say the least, among the other residents of a college dormitory.
Nicky always had stories to tell about Kimberly. She would tell Paul about how Kimberly would shower early, early in the morning to avoid being naked in front of the other girls. Nicky would complain in a half-mocking, half-envious way about how Kimberly would work diligently on her papers and turn them in ahead of time, ensuring solid grades. She would even steal one or two of Kimberly's homemade cookies and smuggle them over to Paul.
"God, she made great cookies," Paul observed, as if reading Nicky's mind.
Nicky had never introduced Paul to Kimberly. She was self-conscious about her relationship with Paul around Kimberly. It was kind of like drinking, partying, and having sex before marriage in front of a nun. And so Nicky was content to keep that part of her life separate from her time with Kimberly, much preferring the catcalls of Paul's roommates after a late night booty call to having to explain to someone as sweetly innocent as Kimberly why she needed to have the room alone with her boyfriend all night.
Nicky and Kimberly had lost track of one another after college. Last Nicky heard, Kimberly had met someone of her own... a religious studies major, she thought... and they had gotten engaged and planned to move back to her small hometown.
Meanwhile, Nicky and Paul had graduated and continued on with their life in the city. They dated for a few years after school, and eventually wound up engaged and then married as Paul struggled to make his way in the corporate world, and Nicky pursued her dream of teaching.
All of that seemed like so long ago to Nicky, as she stood there, looking at the image of Kimberly on display... wondering how someone so young and so innocent could be taken from this world so soon.
(1,494 words) |
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