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He came back, wearing a black coat and scarf.
“Sorry, sir, the bar’s closed.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“Oh. Thanks, but you don’t have—”
“I have to get my car anyway. Get your coat.”
She got her coat, her knit cap, her scarf, her gloves.
He took one look at her bundled up. “Taking a side trip to the Arctic?”
“These cold Vermont nights don’t translate into spring for me yet.”
He turned off the lights, and she took one glance back—everything in order—before going through the arch with him.
They crossed the quiet lobby where the night man read a paperback at the desk.
“Good night, Walter.”
“Night, Morgan. Good night, Miles. Drive safe.”
They stepped out into the slap of cold. Not the blast it had been the month before, Morgan decided, but still a solid slap.
They turned left, down the wide walkway, away from the front gardens and guest parking to the staff lot. The owners had reserved parking with their names on the curb. His—a husky black SUV—sat alone, but he walked past it with her.
“I’m right over there. Thanks for the escort.”
“Do you mean that?” He walked several steps closer to Nina’s car. “You need more than a dollar if you’re driving that.”
Her hackles might have risen if it hadn’t been pure truth. “I’m looking at cars.” Soon, she thought.
“Look faster. I’ll wait to make sure it starts.”
“It’ll start. Thanks again. Good night.”
She crossed to it, got out of the cold air into the somehow colder air of the car. It grumbled, it coughed. She closed her eyes and prayed.And when it turned over, she promised herself she’d look seriously for a car on her next day off.
But for now it only had to get her home. She glanced in the rearview, saw Miles standing, hands in his coat pockets, watching her drive away.
And she thought, yes, she’d made that first narrow crack in the shell.
The week zipped by. She banked her pay, the bulk of her tips, then spent her Monday morning researching used cars online. She concluded she could afford a decent, dependable used car, but could better afford one if Nina’s car lived one more month.
“One more month,” she murmured.
Winter’s back was broken, and if spring hadn’t taken full advantage, if snow and cold continued to threaten, the worst still lay in retreat.
Another month meant a more substantial down payment, less to finance. And Nina’s car only had to get her to work and back, run the occasional errand, get into town if she helped out at the café.
She put that aside, started to research easy recipes instead.
When that scared her off, she decided to take a walk.
Clear the head, she thought as she pulled on boots. Figure out what step to take next. She couldn’t keep running in place indefinitely.
Yes, she had a job, she reminded herself as she stepped outside. A good job, one she liked a great deal. She had shelter, and she’d found living with her ladies an education.
