If I closed my eyes and harnessed my very active imagination, I could pretend like I was in a really good session of hot yoga. Channel my breathing, turn my focus inward, and allow the stress of the moment to fall away.
The frustrated burn of tears along the bridge of my nose is what broke that little fantasy.
I didn't know where I was.
I didn't know what was wrong with my car, loaded down with every earthly possession I owned.
I didn't know how far away I was from Green Valley, so it's not like I could start walking.
And now, I was waiting for a serial killer to pop out of the woods and chop me up into little pieces. Sliding my hand into the front pocket of my frayed jean shorts, I stroked the edge of my pepper spray.
I might've been stranded in the middle of nowhere, but I was no idiot, okay?
I blew out another slow breath and held my cell phone up in the air, desperately wishing for one teeny tiny bar of service to appear so I could call Aunt Fran. It's not like my brother would be much help. Grady was one day behind me, after some weird techie blah blah emergency at work held up his departure.
No big deal, I'd said. I can drive by myself, I'd said. Who needs to caravan in the day and age of Waze? I'd said.
An exhausted laugh burst out of me, and I tipped my head back, let the sun beat down on my face and shoulders. At least I had the sun. If it was gloomy, or raining, or (shudder) snowing, I'd be curled up in my car wiping snot off my face from all the helpless tears.
Something my mom taught me and Grady was that in every situation, every single one that life could throw at you, there was something to be thankful for. Even if you felt beaten down, lift your chin, open your eyes and find that one thing.
And for me, right now, I was thankful for the sun.
Maybe the humidity should have shoved me right into irrepressible anger, but it didn't. The damp air, heavy and hot and strangely comforting, felt like one of those trendy weighted blanket things. I was a California girl, so heat didn't scare me. And on top of that, I had an unruly mop of hair that refused to be tamed, so I didn't care if it added a bit of curl to the waves that were already there.
Still, I slid my hands into it and lifted it off my neck while I soaked up some Vitamin D.
A bead of sweat slipped down my back and I sighed.
Grady thought I was crazy for it, but I felt more comfortable in the heat than any other kind of weather. That's why I almost always wore my trusty black combat boots, even if it was ninety degrees out.
My blood ran hotter than most people's, my memaw liked to say.
Instead of cursing up at the sky again, I dug a hair tie out of my back pocket and piled my hair on top of my head, then marched to the front of my car and yanked the hood open.
The ticking engine and other shit I couldn't name stared back at me while I braced my hands on the car and stared right back.
My stomach rumbled ominously, and I cursed the fact that a couple of hours earlier, I'd eaten my last apple, not worried in the slightest that I was out of food, because I'd be just fine until I pulled in at Aunt Fran and Uncle Robert's.
So, to top everything off on the shit sandwich, I was officially hangry.
I could feel it inching up my body, from my hollow, aching stomach, along my spine and into my head in the form of a pounding headache.
"What the hell am I going to do now?" I muttered, glancing over my shoulder at the empty stretch of tree-lined road.
Honestly, even if my only option for help was some un-bathed redneck in a rusted-out pickup truck, I'd probably greet him with open arms and a big fat kiss at this point.
Another thirty minutes or so, and my stomach would probably start ingesting my spleen just to keep me alive.
"Everything is fine," I whispered. "You will be fine, Grace Bailey Buchanan."
Everything would be fine, because damn it, I was going to will it that way.
It was not my destiny to die along the side of the road before I could cross the city lines. Or maybe I had. I glanced behind me, and just over the crest of the hill, I could see the back of a road sign.
Great. I made it past the city limits of Green Valley, and the universe decided to dump me.
Right as I was about to pass out from starvation.
The sound of a rumbling engine had my head snapping up and a weary sigh of relief blowing through my lips. Over the slight rise in the road, I saw the dark-colored truck appear slowly, a veritable mirage in the backwoods wilderness.
In that moment, my entire body slumped in relief before I stepped out from behind the hood of the car.
"Please don't be a murderer, please don't be a murderer," I whispered. "If you are friendly and helpful and know about cars, I just might kiss you."
I propped my hands on my hips and attempted a smile that screamed, please help me because I might have a mental breakdown if you don't and also, I'm very sane and well-adjusted.
With the shadows from the trees dappling the road, I couldn't see the driver through the windshield until they slowed almost to a stop just in front of me.
The window rolled down, and the first thing I thought was Hallelujah,
