“He’s got his thumb in the air. Is this some weird social media trend? I haven’t seen it before.”
We drive closer, and I can see the man she’s talking about. Maybe I need to get my eyes checked because I couldn’t see him before.
“He’s hitchhiking.” We get a few yards closer. “He’s dressed awfully nice to be hitchhiking.”
“You’re not going to stop, right?” Lila looks at me with saucer-wide eyes and her lips pinched, as if willing me to say no.
“We can help,” I say. There’s nothing for another three miles, and wherever he’s heading, it’s going to take a while. Not to mention, his footwear isn’t ideal for this kind of journey.
As I put my foot on the brake, Lila shakes her head. “Haveyou not heard about people who die from picking up strangers? What if he tries to steal your car and leaves us to die out here?”
I laugh. “Lila, we’ll be okay. We can at least ask what he needs and send someone out here if need be.”
She takes a deep breath, looking a little more comfortable with the idea.
I glance in the rearview mirror to make sure no one is coming behind me and then pull over so we’re driving over the white line.
“Do you need some help?” I call through Lila’s window. She’s sunk down in her seat, trying to be as still as possible. I love her, but the drama factor must go.
The man turns to look over at us, as if he hadn’t heard us approach. “Hi.”
I’m not sure what I expected, maybe an older man with a round belly. This guy has a slight wave to his brown hair and crystal blue eyes that feel like he can see right through me.
I let out a small chuckle and say, “Hi. Do you need us to get you some gas or give you a lift somewhere?”
Lila reaches over and grips my arm with a steely quality, her longer nails digging into the skin near my wrist. “That’s dangerous,” she breathes out.
I stop the car, and the man walks over. He’s close but keeping his distance, as if my older model Honda Civic would stain him. Or maybe a normal thought would be that he’s giving us distance because we’re females.
Seeing his more expensive clothing sends me back to my time at the law firm. From the minor details on his shirt and slacks, he looks like he should be going to the city rather than heading to a sleepy beach town.
“My rental car ran out of gas on my way from the airport. I’m not sure how much farther it is to a gas station, but I’d appreciate a ride there. Or, if that’s not comfortable, any way to get a small can of gas. Enough to get the car to the gas station.”
I blink a couple of times, trying to mesh this man with the stereotypes I have about men who look like him. But unlike the others, he’s not pushing, not demanding anything from us. He’s considerate of our comfort level.
It’s possible we’ve just stumbled onto another timeline altogether, because I’ve never met a man like this before.
Maybe it’s because my brain has shorted out, or because there aren’t internal alarms going off, but I wave to the back door and say, “We can get you there in about five minutes.”
He leans down a bit more so we’re eye-level, although still separated by a bunch of glass and metal. “Are you sure?”
“It’s no problem. We pass right by there anyway.”
A small flicker of surprise crosses his face before he dips his chin with relief. “Thank you.”
He walks over to the back door and pulls it open.
“What if he’s a serial killer?” Lila asks, lifting her purple hoodie over her head. She pulls her legs to her chest and looks like a grape sitting in the passenger seat.
The man slides into the backseat and must’ve heard the last two words. He raises his hands in front of him and says, “Not a serial killer. Just Max.”
Lila looks at me with those wide eyes again. “Of course, he only goes by one name. Only singers and killers do that. We’re going to be food for the vultures.”
I laugh, glancing at the man through my rearview mirror as I pull onto the two-lane road. He’s definitely appealing—I mean, if a woman were in a place to date and be in a relationship, which I’m not. More like intrigued about who he is.
“I’m Avery, and this is my niece, Lila. How about a song, Lila? Maybe you can lull Max to sleep so he doesn’t attack us.” I glance in the mirror and see Max grinning, which only makes me smile wider.
Lila glares at me before letting her fingers fly across the keyboard and turns on a song I haven’t heard in a while. It’s gota boppy rhythm to it, and it would be perfect as a soundtrack for this strange situation.
