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Damn it.
I sigh and close the hatch as I pull my phone out of my pocket and stare down at it. I know what I have to do.
It’s time to call Mikey.
Mikey O’Brien has been one of my best friends since I was six years old. Some asshole kid was picking on our other friend, George Lincoln, and I stood up for him. Then that asshole kid made me cry, and my best friend, Trish Davies, ran over to comfort me as Mikey ran over to help George. We all became best friends that day. After high school, Mikey became a certified mechanic and opened his own garage. A few years later, businessman George joined him, and they added a certified pre-owned car dealership to the mix. They’ve done incredibly well.
Then, last year, as my marriage was imploding, I was reminded true love still exists as I watched Mikey and Trish finally realize their longtime feelings for each other. They’ve been together ever since and married for eight months.
I love Mikey like a brother. The only reason I don’t want to call him is because he’s going to give me shit. Buying a new car isn’t the greatest investment, but it was more about the ability to do so. To have a brand new car I’d paid for myself. Mikey has not let me hear the end of it about how I could’ve gotten a two-year-old pre-owned car from him with a solid warranty and it would’ve been a much better deal. Now, the day I pick up said brand new car, I have to call him for a tow.
Story of my life.
As the line trills, I mentally prepare myself.
“Hey, Zo. What’s up?” Mikey answers.
I clear my throat. “Not much. But, uh, I need your help.”
Urgency fills his voice. “Anything, you know that.”
“Calm down. I’m fine. Just…”
“What?”
I let out an overly dramatic sigh and spill it all out at once. “I picked up my new car today and the jackass guy who put my spare tire in put in the wrong size and I should’ve trusted my gut and double-checked but I didn’t and then I hit a screw and now I have a flat and no spare and… I need a tow.”
I’m expecting some sass. Some snark. Someyou should’ve bought from me.
What do I hear instead?
Laughter. Loud, guffawing laughter.
That jackass.
When he finally collects himself, he says, “Serves you right.”
“Fine, mock me endlessly. At least now I have to buy new tires from you, right?”
He chuckles. “Hey, you know I’ll give you a discount.”
“I’d say I hate you, but I know you’re about to save my ass, so I can’t.”
“Aww, I love you too,” he teases.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m in the middle of some business stuff with George today, but I’ll send my truck driver over. Where are you?”
I tell him, and he reassures me he’ll get someone there fast.
Once we hang up, I stroll to the front of my car and hop on the hood. It’s a beautiful day today, might as well enjoy the sun.
I lie back, pulling my sunglasses over my eyes, and allow myself to rest for a few minutes, while briefly praying no one comes along and tries to murder me.
The warm sun on my face brightens my mood despite everything. It helps that I am genuinely happy with my life now. Crappy situations are a lot easier to deal with when you’re happier overall.
Before I divorced my shitty ex, Tad, I was unhappy as a rule. I tried not to be. I tried to force myself to be content with my situation, but when you live with a partner who doesn’t respect you, who treats your kids like crap, and who is constantly trying to get you to change for them, you’re bound to be unhappy. If only it hadn’t taken me so long to leave him.
