Page 6 of Falling for the Veterinarian

Ok, just suck it up.I march up to the glass front door, and my ankles wobbling on the loose gravel. My stomach lurches as I rebalance myself.

The run-down gas station and convenience store are empty except for the cashier. The young man seems pleasant enough.

“Hi, I need gas and the machine isn’t working,” I say. Hopefully, I don't sound too rude. Rick always says my tone is sharp.

“Oh ya, old Bill says the repairman can’t be here ‘til next Tuesday, but I can help you,” he says eagerly.

“Thanks.” I smile at him, pay, and leave as quickly as I can. I am almost at the car when a I'm thrown off balance, falling to the ground and scraping my right knee and both palms.Ugh, I hope no one saw that.

“You alright there?!” the cashier calls out as he peeks out the glass door.

“Yup.” I jump up, smile sheepishly, and wave. “Thanks.”

I am utterly humiliated. Small drips of blood ooze from the one-inch gash on my knee and the palms of my hands have tiny scrapes with dirt and a few craters from rocks. Worst of all, the heel on my favorite shoes broke. I grip the offending heel, grit my teeth, and restrain myself from chucking it out into the highway.Ok, don’t panic.I start pumping the gas into my rental. I remove my good shoe and take my rage out on the other heel, clipping it flat to match the newly destroyed left shoe.

“Looks like you’re having a little trouble there, ma’am. Do you need some help?” the cashier calls out, proving that he is watching my every move. His politeness is starting to grate on my nerves. I just want to get back on the road.

“Nope! I’m just fine, thanks,” I shrug. “Be out of here in a few.”

The gas pump finishes andI race out of that tiny town as quickly as legal.

Five

Sarah

AsIhittheopen highway again, the weight of losing so much so quickly starts to take its toll. I always have a plan and a backup plan, but not this time. This sudden upheaval of my life is anything but fair. What am I going to do?

Aunt Michelle has a close realtor friend in town. Maybe I can intern for her while I work on getting my Vermont realtor license?

Another thirty minutes later, the chill in the car never disappears. It might even be colder than when I left the gas station. I adjust the heater—nothing. I pull over, turn the car off and on again, and try the heater again. Nothing.UGH! Seriously, why?!!

I get out of the car, wrench open the back door roughly, and search through my clothes box. I grab gloves, a scarf, a beanie, and a sweater and swiftly put them on. I jump back in the car and rush back onto the road.

I look at the GPS. Only an hour and a half away from my aunt’s house. I am so ready to be out of this car. . .

BOOM! Whoosh, blub, blub. Its the distinct sound of rubber smacking the ground as the car abruptly slows and sharply veers toward the right of the road. The steering wheel starts to vibrate angrily. Trying not to panic, I brake, turn my hazard lights on, and pull off the road. I rest my head on the steering wheel. BEEEEEP!Damn, I hit the horn!

I sit upright and clutch my chest. My heart is in my throat, the thundering drum loud in my ears. I have no idea how to change a tire and I amwaytoo far away to call my aunt for help. What am I going to do?

YouTube.

I watch three videos on how to change tires.I can do this, it doesn't look that hard.Embracing the crisp, fall wind outside, I pull the sweater further down over my pants.

Big dark gray clouds are in the distance and the scent of rain wafts in the breeze. Urgency surges through me, it is already cold. I don't want to be stuck in the rain too. I pull out the boxes in the trunk and search for the tire jack and the spare. Exactly where they are supposed to be.At least one thing is going my way.

I try to remove the tire; it’s not just flat—it’s a blowout. I struggle and struggle with the jack, only to discover that two of the lug nuts are stripped. Once I finally get them off, I put the spare on with relative ease. As I replace the lug nuts, a sense of victory washes over me. I am so proud of myself for keeping my cool even with all the delays. Is the universe telling me not to go, though?

Not even forty minutes later, there’s another thump followed by flap, flap, flap. The left side of the rental car tilt. I am so close to Moonridge, Vermont, where my Aunt Michelle lives, that I can practically taste her homemade apple maple pie.

“Are you freaking kidding me?!”I shout at the sky above and throw my hands in the air. Hot, furious tears puddle in my eyes. I drift to the shoulder and park, yet again. This six-hour trip is now twelve hours, and my optimism is destroyed.

I slam the door shut after I brave the cold to assess the damage. It’s the back left tire this time and the only donut is on the front tire. The threat of rain increases and the clouds cast a foreboding shadow around the valley. I sink down and sit next to the car on the ground. I’m exhausted, it’s cold, and I am out of tires. I sit there and allow myself to wallow for a few minutes. I don’t want to call my aunt and inconvenience her even more. She is already saving the best place at the inn for me for free.

I see no other option. I'm going to have to swallow my pride for what feels like the millionth time this week. I slowly stand to get my phone out of the car to call for help.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!I almost jump out of my skin at the sudden sound.

A large tow truck pulls over in front of me. Thick tears of relief stream down my face. Normally, I would wipe them away and pretend everything is fine. But right now, it's not okay. Nothing is okay.

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