Late to the Wedding

by Briggs, Laura

  “Where are we?” she asked, sitting up to groggily to survey the landscape. “This doesn’t look right.”

  “Well, it should,” said Brian, his tone still noticeably miffed from earlier. “We’re driving into Central City–the heart of Binghamton, New York. So your big emergency trip is almost over. ”

  “No, no, no.” She sat forward, jerking her sunglasses off in a panicked gesture. “Why would you do that? I didn’t say anything about going downtown. The last thing I need is another major city, with traffic and crowds and crazy convention lovers–”

  “But you said to take you into Binghamton,” he cut in, glaring at her over his shoulder. “So unless you were talking about some other city with the same name in a different state or country, then I guess we’re here.”

  “Just stay on the interstate,” she said tapping the back of the seat insistently. “I–I was sort of off in my directions; I need to go a little further, closer to Scranton maybe...” she trailed off, biting her lip. Aware how fake all this sounded, that her driver was shaking his head, his angry expression flashing in the rearview mirror.

  “I can’t believe this. You want me to take you into Pennsylvania, right? That’s another hour and a half of driving time; another thirty or so gallons of gasoline. Does the word ‘inconsiderate’ mean nothing to you?”

  “I’ll pay you whatever the extra cost is, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sneaking a peek inside her handbag even as she spoke, afraid the bills tucked inside might not be enough. She’d planned on charging everything for this trip, since traveling light was essential.

  Brian snorted. “What about compensation for pain and suffering? Let’s face it, you’re not exactly the customer of the year.”

  “I doubt there’s been much competition,” she shot back, twisting the handbag between her fingers in a frustrated gesture. “Your way of doing business doesn’t set the bar too high. I’m guessing this is the first trip you’ve had in awhile where you didn’t have to worry about getting mugged or maybe carjacked.”

  “Why–‘cause you’re good-looking and dressed to the nines?” He turned his head, so she could see his mocking profile. “Believe me, that kind of racket only gets you so far in this in the world, so don’t think you can use looks and a little cash to bribe me into some kind of personal chauffer gig.”

  Evelyn’s jaw dropped, her eyes growing wide with the accusation. “That’s–that’s disgusting. I’ve never done anything so low in my life and I–what are you doing? Hey, stop, stop!” She clutched frantically at his shoulder, as the car in front of them yielded to the traffic on the main road.

  A squeal of breaks and a sickening crunch as the Sedan made impact with the other car’s rear bumper, and in turn received a jolt from the vehicle behind. Evelyn squealed, as her form crashed back against the seat, then skidded to the side, her head thumping hard against the leather.

  “You okay?” Brian asked, twisting around to study her with wide eyes.

  Horns blared, shouts erupting from the line of cars behind. The door to the vehicle ahead of them popped open, and a man in red tights and boots emerged, a cape of the same color billowing behind him like a blanket in the breeze. Antenna bobbed on his head, a pair of tinted sunglasses balanced on his nose.

  “What–” Evelyn blinked hard, thinking the sunlight was playing tricks on her eyes. But the weird figure was still there and had even been joined by a few other people in various stages of costume dress: a guy with green scales and a pair of goggles; a woman whose slender from was encased in a sleek lizard suit with a forked tail.

  With a groan, she remembered the Megacom convention as a driver emerged in a large wasp costume sporting a crown–no doubt the coveted costume the car rental clerks had rhapsodized about. “Oh, no,” she murmured, burying her face against the back of the driver’s seat, not caring as her hair escaped its pony tail band in a frazzled mess. “Why is this happening to me? It’s insane, completely insane. ”

  “Stay here,” Brian ordered, slamming the door behind him before she could protest.

  A small crowd had gathered by now from the line of cars, some of them normal tourists in jeans and skirts. Others were clearly bound for the convention, like the group of teens dressed as Middle Earth hobbits, and the guy whose open shirt revealed the familiar red ‘S’ symbol.

  As Evelyn massaged her temples, a pudgier version of the Wasp King strolled into view, hands planted disapprovingly on hips. The rival insect lovers sized each other up with cool stares, before plunging into a frenzy of complaints that almost resembled an angry buzz from where she sat.

  “Can’t you just exchange insurance information?” she yelled, rolling down the window, after a minor struggle to un-stick its handle.

  No one listened, though, since the first Wasp King was busy chewing Brian out for holding up traffic. At least, the words, “complete imbecile,” were audible, along with the taunt, “driving school dropout.”

  “What about me?” demanded the pudgier version of the superhero, his voice a high-pitched whine that was closer to a gnat than a wasp. “I’ve got to be at the convention by four o’clock for an on-stage presentation. I could be televised, people!”

  Big deal, thought Evelyn, her own goal reducing the problems of other’s to a speck of dust. “I’ll pay for the damage if we can settle on the spot,” she called out the window. But her offer was swatted away by Brian, as he continued on. Probably telling them how it was her fault, her irate rambling that distracted him from the perils of the road.

  Did he even bother buying coverage for this rat trap? she wondered. Rubbing her forehead as she envisioned hours spent filling out accident reports at the local police station. No way she was sticking around for that scene, especially if her driver was irresponsible enough to chauffer total strangers without a little security.

  “Forget it,” she said, more to herself than the growing crowd of cranky costumed drivers.

  Leaning over the driver’s seat, she stuck two folded bills inside the drink holder, enough to cover the trip thus far, in her estimation. Then shouldering her luggage, she climbed out of the car, giving the passenger side door a vicious slam. Without looking back, she hiked down the shoulder of the road, towards the collection of nearby apartment buildings. Perhaps from there she would make a few phone calls to car rental agencies and hit the road again. Preferably on her own, this time.

  Feet pounded the pavement behind, scuffling sounds from a pair of sneakers. “Hey, lady–Evelyn–wait up.”

  She increased her speed, fingers wound tight around the straps to her luggage. “I left the payment in your car, Mr. Stoker. Eighty dollars should cover everything but the accident, which I’m afraid I can’t take any responsibility for.”

  “Slow down a sec.” He was running out of breath, judging from the slight gasp in his voice. “I’m not blaming you for the fender bender.”

  "That's a surprise," she answered, sarcastically. She felt him seize her elbow.

  "Wait–are you in some kind of trouble? If so, then let me help. Whatever emergency would make a lady in heels hike down a highway–”

  “It’s personal,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.” She couldn't tell a complete stranger the desperate reasons behind her hike in the summer heat. In the distance, she heard the sound of car horns honking as various members of the convention moved on from the scene of the accident.

  “So give me a chance.” His dark gaze examining her with a mixture of amused perplexity. “Why not let me give you a hand? It’s the least you can do after smashing up my car.”

  “I didn’t–” she began, then let her words trail off. As her bags slid to the ground, she sank onto the duffle bag in exhaustion.

  “I need to get to Alabama, and I need it to be as soon as possible. Like the next twenty-four hours. To stop my fiancé–ex-fiancé–from making a major mistake, the kind that could ruin his life.” She took a breath and cut a sideways glance in Brian’s direction. “I’m sorry f
or lying to you and for what happened to your car, but I really need to stay on the road. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of chance.”

  He nodded slowly, his eyes taking on a thoughtful expression. After scuffing his shoe against the pavement a few times, he glanced up and shrugged. “Okay. So we’ll do it.”

  “You’ll drive me to Alabama?” Evelyn glanced up with surprise at this unexpected sympathy. "Are you serious?" She felt a little guilty suddenly for the insults she’d hurled right before the accident. “But–but the car,” she sputtered, trying to digest all this information.

  “Car’s fine,” he shrugged. “Just another beauty mark for its collection of scratches and bumps.” Turning back towards the scene of the accident he tossed a malicious grin over his shoulder. “Grab your bags and follow me. There’s a few minor details we need to work out.”

  Chapter Four

  “So from there we branch back onto I-81 and coast through Maryland. We loop through here to connect with Blacksburg and follow this path to Chattanooga. Cut through to Alabama on this route and bam–we’re in Kingsley.” Brian brought his palm down on the map location with a smack! and flashed Evelyn a cocky smile. “Simple, right?”

  “I don’t know…” she frowned. "Isn't there a more direct route?" His path seemed slightly offbeat in comparison

  They were sitting in a booth at Billy’s Best Brew, a corner café in Central City Binghamton. Road maps and pens spread between them as Brian planned their route based on a system of back roads he swore by. Elaborate shortcuts and secret connecting roads that looked like something which could quickly lead to going in circles.

  “I think we should stick to the interstate as much as possible,” Evelyn continued, playing with the straw in her Styrofoam cup. A quick caffeine pick-me-up she bought with mobility in mind, whereas Brian ordered a stacked sandwich with a side of batter dipped fries. “It’s the safest way to travel,” she added.

  “Yeah, and look where it got us today,” he scoffed, dunking a fry in ketchup. “Listen, I know what I’m doing here. Back in college, I road tripped down to my uncle’s place in Georgia all the time. I’ve driven a lot of these back roads and I’m telling you, it’s the only way we’ll make that impossibly tight deadline you’re gunning for.”

  She tapped her fingers against the table, torn between the comforts of familiarity and the tantalizing promise of speed. Her gaze tracing the series of squiggly lines and X’s he used to denote shortcuts around major cities like Alexandra, Maryland and Asheville, Tennessee. “Fine. If you’re really sure than we’ll try it. But I don’t want us getting lost in some part of civilization that time forgot.”

  “Relax,” he said, popping another fry in his mouth. “You worry too much. Try one of these fries, they’re incredible.”

  She hesitated, aware she’d done the same thing with Jared dozens of times, playfully snatching sumptuous tidbits and appetizers from the edge of his plate. Except this wasn’t an intimate, five-star restaurant and the guy sitting across from her was a stranger with decidedly shady tendencies. But with a strong jaw and a rugged sort of attractiveness she hadn’t noticed when the car seats were between them.

  “C’mon, really, I don’t mind. Just take a bite,” he said, waving the morsel enticingly below her nose. Only to lower it a second later when she shook her head and inched away. “Okay, I get it. You’re one of those germ fanatics, right? The kind who carries those mini disinfectant bottles and wipes your hands every time you touch a doorknob?”

  “No,” she snapped, startled by the eerie accuracy of the statement–although, that hadn’t been the reason she declined the invitation. “I just don’t like greasy, diner style food,” she added, gathering her handbag. “We should get going. The sooner we hit the road the better.”

  But Brian wasn’t budging, his mouth taking another bite out of the half-eaten sandwich. “So this guy is what–in jail or something?” He glanced at her sideways, as if trying to discern whether he’d hit a nerve with that one. “Or is it more like a bad business investment or family crisis thing?”

  Evelyn could almost feel her face pale with indignation. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business, Mr. Stoker,” she said, moderating her voice for the sake of their fellow diners. “But the answer to all three of your questions is ‘no.’ Although I can see how someone like yourself might jump to that first conclusion.”

  His eyebrows arched, a spark of amusement appearing in his expression. “Hey, these things happen. And if you’re too embarrassed to tell me what this guy’s problem is than fine–”

  “He’s getting married,” she blurted, leaning across the table in what she hoped was an adequately intimidating stance. “For the wrong reasons and to the wrong person, and it’s partly my fault. And the ceremony is on Monday, so if I’m going to help him it has to be now. Got it?”

  “Wow.” He seemed momentarily humbled by this confession, or at least robbed of his usual smart remarks. After an apologetic cough, he folded up the road map and clipped the marker to its top. “That’s not what I expected. You don’t seem like the impulsive type.”

  She shrugged, ignoring this rather forward assessment of her character. “We can go now, right?”

  “Right.” He shoved aside his plate and counted out a tip for the waitress, before adding, “You’re forgetting one other important detail. My fee.”

  Her eyes narrowed, a sense of foreboding creeping over her. “How much?”

  “Eight hundred dollars, one-way trip.”

  “Are you kidding?” she squealed. Then sat back down in the booth and lowered her voice, aware the other patrons were glancing their way. “That’s ridiculous. I could drive myself there and back for less.”

  “But you’d take about twice as long,” he reasoned. “As I recall, time is quite the priority for you so…”

  She sighed, knowing he’d hit a weak spot. Time was everything, in this case, and money could be secured from her bank account with a quick visit to an ATM machine. “You’ll have the money when we get there,” she promised. “And if we get there on time.”

  This last condition was met with a short, mocking laugh. “You’re crazy. No good businessman would accept terms like that. This isn’t a charity event, after all. ”

  “But your fees are outrageous,” she argued. “And the only reason I’m hiring you is for the sake of meeting the deadline. Otherwise, I’d do it myself and still have part of my savings account intact.”

  The muscles in his jaw tensed, a signal she’d gotten the upper hand for now. Drumming his fingers against the table, he seemed to struggle with a good comeback plan. Then spread his hands, a satisfied smile creeping into his features. “Half now, half when we get there.”

  She bit her lip, aware the price was still higher than the bills tucked inside her pocketbook. “A third of it now, and then half when we reach Chattanooga.” A city in Tennessee that would place her close enough to her destination that she could easily change transportation.

  “Sounds like a deal,” said Brian. “And let’s say a fifty dollar bonus if I get you there in twenty-four hours.”

  “Fine, whatever,” she replied. Her fingers reluctantly gripping the calloused hand he extended across the booth.

  Chapter Five

  It took two hours of driving a few miles over the speed limit for the rickety Sedan to cross into Scranton, Pennsylvania. Not exactly a promising start, but the outlook improved when a trip through a series of residential sections led to the first of the back roads marked on Brian’s road map.

  Spotting these locations and reading aloud their directions was the job of Evelyn, who was stationed in the front passenger seat now. After they left the café, she had started to crawl into the backseat again, only to feel Brian’s hand grip her ankle. “What are you doing? Sit up front.”

  She’d hesitated, taken aback by the unfamiliar touch. “I think it looks better this way, more professional. Like two people with a business arrangement driving from point
A to point B.”

  “Which looks kind of like an illegal taxi cab,” he countered. “Just try it, alright? I promise not to bite. Unless, of course, there’s a full moon, which I don’t think there is. ” With a devilish gleam in his gaze that made her even more reluctant to share close quarters.

  But it wasn’t so bad, she discovered, in fact, it was far preferable to the backseat. Cleaner, with more leg room, and convenient access to things like the air unit and radio controls. Switching on a classical music station, she leaned her head back and let her eyes drift shut.

  Only to pop them open again as Brian reached over and snapped it off. “My car, my rules,” he said, “and that includes music. When and if it’s played.”

  She bit her lip, a little stung by his sudden switch back to tyrant. Slipping her sunglasses on to hide the flash of hurt, she focused her gaze on the stretch of pavement winding ahead. “Then what am I supposed to do for the next day and a half?”

  “Whatever you like. Read, admire the scenery, play the license plate game. But there’s no way I’m listening to a bunch of NPR stations fade in and out of monotone as we drive through endless stretches of rural county.”

  It was a somewhat reasonable point, she knew, but part of her couldn’t help rebelling like a teenager whose mother just took her first objectionable CD. Slumping in her seat and adopting a frigid silence. Childish, she knew, but maybe he would regret it enough to give in. Anything to distract her mind from the long drive and the task that lay at the end of it.

  “What do you normally do?” Brian asked, his tone a little softer this time. But not enough to melt her icy mood. “Don’t feel like answering–okay, I’ll guess then.”

  Stealing a series of sideways glances in her direction, he scrutinized her, as if tapping into great powers of observation. “Let’s see, you’re used to walking in heels for long distances, so it’s on-the-go and probably formal. Something involving PR or office type work, but not too much, since your nails are perfect. But they would be anyway, since you’re obviously a regular beauty shop customer. I can tell by your expert highlights–”