The engine is running, the headlights glowing over my fancy ride that doesn’t want to start.
That woman must be waiting for him.
Besides, he’s already done so much for us.
“It’s okay... I was just asking. We can call AAA. They should arrive shortly.”
His eyes come back to me.
“What about this?” he says... “I’ll have someone pick up your car and fix it. In the meantime, I’ll drive you home. Would that work for you?”
It’s strange how the most stupid thought kills your intelligence when you need it the most.
My first reaction is to weigh whether it’s a smart thing to get into his truck and bring him to our place, especially now that Frankie and I are alone. As if he is a danger to us and not our own stupidity for getting ourselves into this situation, to begin with.
I look at Frankie, seeking support while hiding my tell-all expression.
My hesitance must’ve given me away, though.
“That would be great. It’s so kind of you,” she says without flinching.
He waits for me to be in agreement with her. Our eyes meet and stay connected a moment too long.
“Yes. Thank you,” I say, a bit tardy.
He glances at his truck again.
“Can you wait here for a moment?”
I nod, not knowing what to say. I pull the door closer, not shutting it.
“He probably needs to ask his girlfriend first,” I mutter.
“What girlfriend?”
I tell her about the woman who surfed with him.
“The third man got out of the ocean before he pulled you out of the water.”
Briefly, I relay to her the sequence of events, sharing my suspicion that he and the woman are a couple.
“Interesting...” she murmurs.
I’m not so sure she believes it, or I’m at odds with what she truly thinks.
“He’s back,” she says, pointing to the looming silhouette.
I push the door open.
“Can I get your keys?” he asks.
“Sure.”
He hands me a waterproof bag.
“Here you have towels and blankets,” he says. “Go to the restroom, take off your wet clothes, and wrap yourself in these. Do you live far from here?”
“Half an hour or so.”
“We’ll make a stop at the car shop and drop the keys before I take you home. But first, get out of your wet clothes, so you don’t catch a cold.”
“Okay.”
We follow his instructions, and five minutes later, we enter the restroom and strip off our swimsuits, drenched shorts, and T-shirts.
From a plastic envelope, I take out two soft cotton sets I packed just in case.
“That is genius,” Frankie says.
“I never thought we were going to need them.”
She peels her swimsuit top and slides it into the plastic envelope.
“Oh. This feels good,” she says, cupping her small chest. “Have you notice how cold they get when they’re wet.”
“Mmm-hmm,” I mutter, relishing the soft feel of cotton against my body too.
“You know what would be great? Some of those warm plush socks.”
“Next time, for sure.”
I put everything in my backpack and wash my feet before sticking them into my flip flops. The soles are drenched and cold, but our bodies are no longer wet.
I wring water out of my hair and hand her a blanket before taking one for myself. Her set is pink with a teddy bear pattern. Mine is white with a ladybugs print.
“Girls will be girls,” she says, wrapping the cozy blanket around her shoulders. “Oh... Now that’s what I call feeling good.”
I do the same before pivoting to the exit.
“Let’s hope he’s still outside, waiting for us.”
She laughs as if it’s a good joke, but I don’t feel like chuckling.
“He was nothing but good to us. Stop worrying,” she says.
“I’m not.”
I push the door open and let her walk first before we step outside. He waits for us in his four by four in front of the restrooms.
“There’s no woman,” I murmur, realizing that he is alone in his ride.
“Is that a prerequisite to get in a car with a man?”
“It’s not funny, Frankie. I’ll sit in the back.”
“You want him to eat me first?”
“Shut up,” I admonish her as she laughs, amused.
“This man saved my life,” she tosses at me, reaching for the door. “Don’t forget that,” she adds as I turn to stone, not knowing what to believe.
She pushes up, not offering anything else, and I’m afraid she uttered the truth.
She was close to dying.
7
REX
“Doing good over there in the back?” I ask, looking in the rearview mirror.
The quiet woman nods, her eyes avoiding mine.
“Is it warm enough?”
“It’s great,” the woman at my right mutters, her eyes lingering on me.
She openly studies me, and I can’t say it’s never happened before. Women do that sometimes. Even girls like them.
“I’m Rex. Rex Jackson. You?” I ask, steering my car onto the highway.
The shorter woman tips her gaze to me—a pang of gratitude flashes through her eyes.
She could’ve been dead had I not catch her on time.
I wonder if her friend knows that. I flick my eyes to the woman in the back.
Her long hair frames her oval face, beautifully drawn lips, and deep eyes. She looks out the window, wrapped in a gray blanket, her cheeks painted scarlet.
She must be warm by now.
“Names?” I say, pulling the girl next to me out of reverie.
“I’m Frankie. Frankie Mendoza. She’s Luna Rae.”
I move my eyes to the mirror again.
“She doesn’t like to talk much,” I mutter.
“She’s stressed out because of what happened,” Frankie says.
“Nothing happened,” I state, drawing Luna’s gaze to me.
Our eyes meet in the mirror.
She’s shy, a rare quality in a woman, especially when a mysterious world lives behind her eyes.
“Luna Rae Winter,” she says in a quiet voice.
“Nice to meet you,” I ask, smiling before shifting my eyes to the road.
“Students?” I ask.
“College students,” Frankie emphasizes. “Just got out of the freshman year. You?”
“I’ll graduate next year. Political Science,” I add in response to Frankie’s questioning eyes.
“Really?” Luna mutters.
“Mmm-hmm. Why are you surprised?”
“I’m not. It’s just that I didn’t picture you doing that.”
“Studying?”
A blush spreads across her cheeks.
“No,” she mutters, embarrassed. “In that field of study.”
“Appearances can be deceptive. What about you?”
I glance in the rearview mirror, although the answer comes from my right.
“I want to be a teacher. She’s studying Law,” her friend says.
“Trial lawyer? Judge?” I ask.
“She doesn’t know.”