“Looks like a woman alone.” Ben studied the small car parked on the shoulder ahead, trunk standing open. The car was old and battered, a car top carrier strapped to the roof. “I’d better stop.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Marsha asked. “I’ve heard of carjackings that use women for bait.” She examined the dense greenery beyond the mowed shoulder strip of the road but didn’t see a sign of anyone lurking there.
Ben signaled and pulled onto the shoulder just ahead of the stopped car. He turned toward Marsha. “If it were you stranded, I’d hope some one would stop.”
Marsha nodded. “Good point.” She reached into the back seat and snapped a leash onto Lindy’s collar before getting out of the car.
After checking for traffic, Ben stepped from his car and walked back toward the disabled vehicle. “Hi. Having some trouble?”
A young woman with a long brown ponytail turned toward him, her eyes wild with frustration. “I have a flat, and I can’t even get the stupid spare out of the trunk.”
“Let me take a look.” Ben walked to the trunk, stepping around various boxes and suitcases she had obviously removed to reach the spare at the bottom of the trunk. Marsha and her cocker spaniel came to stand beside the rear of the car and she peered inside the trunk. A wing nut holding the spare and jack in place had rusted, effectively sealing them to the car. Ben pressed on the spare; it yielded under his hand.
“I see your problem. How bad is the regular tire?”
The young woman shrugged. “It’s flat.”
He moved to the passenger side of the car and bent to examine the tire. Marsha gave the young woman an encouraging smile.
“Ben will get this sorted out. Hi, I’m Marsha.”
“Sophie. Thanks for stopping.”
Ben straightened. “The sidewall is damaged. It’s not going to hold air. Let me get my tools.” He retrieved a toolbox, lug wrench, and an air pump from the trunk of his car. Inside the toolbox, he located a small can of WD-40, and sprayed a generous amount on the rusty wing nut. “Let’s give that a minute to soak in.”
Marsha walked the dog away from the road, giving Lindy a chance to relieve herself before Marsha tied her leash to a handy bush. The dog flopped down in the shade, panting. Marsha returned to the others.
A whimpering sound came from inside the car. Marsha’s eyes widened as Sophie reached inside, lifting out a small baby dressed in a pink onesie. She cuddled the baby against her shoulder, bouncing her gently. Marsha hadn’t even noticed the car seat nestled among the boxes and bins in the back seat.
“Shh, sweetie. It’s all right. Go back to sleep.”
The baby cried louder, clearly awake and probably hungry. Marsha came to touch Sophie’s arm.
“Why don’t you take the baby to the other car and feed her there while Ben works on yours?”
Sophie gave her a grateful smile. “Really? Thanks.” She grabbed a diaper bag and followed Marsha to the car. Marsha started the engine and put the air conditioning on while Sophie settled into the backseat of the Cadillac, positioning a blanket over her shoulder before unbuttoning her shirt to nurse the baby. Marsha smiled at her before returning to Ben.
He had loosened the nut and removed the spare tire from its cradle. When he set it on the ground, it slumped, completely flat. He shook his head.
“How bad is it?” Marsha asked.
“The tire is toast. I’ll try pumping up this spare. If it holds air, it should at least get her into town, where she can buy a new tire. All the tires are almost bald.”
He plugged the pump into the cigarette lighter of her car, started the engine, and began airing up the spare. It was a slow process. He showed Marsha how to hold the nozzle in place on the valve stem. Meanwhile, he loosened the lug nuts of the flat and assembled the jack, positioning it under the car. By the time the spare tire was fully pressured and the noisy pump turned off, Sophie and the baby had returned. She handed the Cadillac keys to Marsha. The baby was happier now, gurgling from her perch on Sophie’s shoulder.
Marsha smiled at the baby. “Hi, sweetheart. Are you feeling better?”
“This is Skye.”
“What a pretty name. Hello, Skye. Where are you and your mommy going with so much luggage?”
Sophie sighed. “We’re moving to my parents’ house. My husband shipped out three weeks ago and we’re going to stay with them while he’s in Afghanistan.”
Marsha gave her a sympathetic look. “It must be hard, taking care of a baby all by yourself. Are you getting any sleep?”
“She’s sleeping three or four hours at a time now. I try to nap when I can. It’s not too bad.”
“That’s good. I remember running on a few hours of sleep when my kids were babies, but now if I don’t get at least seven hours, I’m a zombie.”
They continued to chat as Ben worked. He managed to raise the car with the rickety jack. He removed the flat and replaced it with the spare, systematically tightening the lug nuts and then let the car down off the jack and tightened the lug nuts once again. Finally, he placed the flat and jack in the trunk. He loaded Sophie’s baggage, rearranging it to fit in the trunk before gingerly closing the lid.
He turned to Sophie. “What branch is your husband in?”
“Army.”
He wiped his hands on a rag before offering his right hand to Sophie. “I’d like to thank you and your husband for your sacrifice.”
Solemnly, Sophie shook his hand.
“The spare seems to be holding air, but I don’t have a lot of confidence in it. I checked, and there’s a tire shop in seven miles, off the third exit. If you don’t mind, Marsha and I will follow you and make sure you make it okay.”
“That would be great. Thank you so much for all your help.”
“All right. Let me get my stuff packed away, and we’ll be right behind you.”
At the tire store, they found a spot in the shade and left Lindy in the car with the windows cracked open. Marsha noticed Sophie looking around for the restroom. She offered to hold the baby, and Sophie thankfully handed her over. While she was gone, Ben talked with a man at the counter, gesturing toward Sophie’s car. He produced a credit card and signed a slip. By the time Sophie had returned, Ben was standing beside Marsha, making Skye chortle at his funny faces.
He turned to Sophie. “I talked with the tire guys, and they know what to do. They say it will take about forty-five minutes. Will you and Skye be okay for that long?”
Sophie reached out to take Skye from Marsha’s arms. “Of course. We’ll be fine.” Her face was worried. “How much did they say it would cost?”
“It’s all taken care of,” Ben assured her.
“I can’t let you do that. I should be paying you for helping me change the tire.”
“I think if your husband is willing to give up so much to serve his country, the least I can do is pay to fix his wife’s flat. Please let me have the honor.”
“Well, thank you so much.” She reached out with her free arm to give him a hug. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stopped.”
Marsha felt a twinge of guilt and her heart filled with gratitude to Ben for overriding her caution. She smiled and accepted a hug from Sophie. She stroked the baby’s soft cheek. “Goodbye, Skye. Goodbye, Sophie. Good luck.”
When they were back in the car and had driven out of the parking lot, Marsha turned to Ben. “The flat wasn’t fixable. You bought her a new tire, didn’t you?”
Ben looked straight ahead. “You can’t just buy one new tire; it would mess up the steering.”
Marsha laughed. “You bought her a whole new set?”
Ben’s grin was his only answer.
Marsha looked at Ben in admiration. “So, is it uncomfortable hiding those angel wings under your shirt?”
Ben chuckled. “I’ve been called a lot of things over the years, but I’m almost sure angel isn’t one of them.”
“I suspect Sophie would disagree.”
Detour on Route 66 (Choices: Story Five) Page 7
