Page 92 of Lucky In Love
To the tornado lovers and anxiety ridden lovelies.
Mindy
What a self-righteous, misogynistic, pain-in-the-ass pig.
A snarl came out as I shoved open the glass-doored main entrance of the bar and stormed outside, immediately heading straight toward my black four-door car. “Who does he think he is, calling me an uptight prude? Because calling a person names is going to make someone want to follow them back to their mom’s basement for a likely unsatisfying quickie.” Letting out a tense huff, I unlocked the vehicle and dropped into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut. “And there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to drink whiskey, neat.”
This is the last time I let my best friend’s boyfriend try to hook me up with any of his friends. What in the hell was she thinking? Was she even thinking? Ugh.
I started my car and gave the dashboard a loving stroke when the engine started without issue. “Thank you, Pearl.”
Pearl had been in my life for ten years now. I had bought the car used, but the initial owner had been an older lady who drove it twice a week, so it was a rare and delightful find. Pearl and I had been through a lot in these ten years: college, moving home, working, moving back out, and then helping my parents find and settle into their retirement home. I had hoped I would have had my own house by now, or even a solid relationship.
So much for that.
My mood tanked even further as I pulled out of the parking lot of the bar, and the realization of another dead end date washed over me. What made it feel even more pathetic-feeling was that we hadn’t made it past the appetizers.
Can this night get any worse?
As if on cue, a booming clap of thunder cracked and rumbled overhead, practically shaking my car with the vibrations. It had barely stopped rumbling when the skies opened up and it started pouring down rain.
I let out a tense breath as I looked up at the dark and turbulent sky. “Really?” I’d hated the dark and thunderstorms since I was a kid. We’d had enough close calls with tornadoes and losing power from insane weather, that I always had a flashlight with me. Even as a grown-ass adult, I even had a nightlight in my room.
Shaking my head and reminding myself I was safe in my car, I turned onto County Line Road, heading toward my best friend’s house. Happy my car was new enough that I could sync my phone and make a call hands-free, I immediately called my best friend.
“Mindy? You’re supposed to be on your date with Patrick right now. What happened? Did he ghost you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Honestly, I wish he had.”
Sarah groaned. “Damn. What happened?”
“Your boyfriend’s so-called friend is a misogynistic ass. He’s currently marinating in his beer. Maybe it will make him more palatable for someone else.”
“You threw beer at him?”
That’s what she took away? I scoffed. “Yes. I wasn't going to waste my perfectly good whiskey on him.”
“I’ll circle back to that in a second.” She let out a sigh. “Min, the storms coming in are really bad. Are you going to make it to my house before all hell breaks loose?”
I glanced at the rain pelting my windshield. “That’s the plan. It’s probably going to take a little longer since the wind and rain are already picking up.”
“Be careful. I have the driveway light on for you. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon, bestie.”
The call ended, and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as I made my way down the dark country road.
Why did I come all the way out here for this stupid date? And on a night I knew the weather was going to be sketchy?
As I drove on, I smiled at the familiar surroundings of my childhood. Corn and soybean fields as far as the eye could see. I’d left the area for college, going to school near Lombard, Illinois, but came home to visit Sarah and my parents as often as I could.
As I turned onto another country road, I pressed the accelerator and crunching, grinding gears, engine revving, but nothing else happened, and I slowed to a stop.
The grinding sound intensified, and I threw the car into park, immediately silencing the engine. When I put the car into drive again, the horrible grating noise started again. Once again, I put it in park and slumped forward onto the steering wheel, letting out a frustrated shout.
No. No. No. This isn’t happening. I can’t be stuck out here on a night like this.
Screaming didn’t solve anything, but after the night I was having, it felt good. Not sure what else to do, I turned the car off, and when I turned it back on, a round, gear-like icon with an exclamation point in the center illuminated on the dashboard.