Chapter 26
Mary pressed the gas pedal to the floor. Her car lurched forward. According to Google Maps, she would arrive at the golf course for her reunion with Dean in thirty-seven minutes. Her whole body felt jittery. Mitchell had said this would give her a good chance of getting the promotion. If Uncle Cillian was right, all she had to do was crush the interview with Dean, and she’d be back in her old life soon. The first thing she planned to do was call Kendra. In fact, she’d jump on a plane and visit her daughter in London. Stop it! You’re getting ahead of yourself. Dean needs to agree to the interview, a cautious voice in her head shouted, and she could have sworn the warning was from her wiser fifty-four-year-old self.
The highway curved left, and Mary found herself staring into the setting sun. She slipped on her sunglasses and lowered the visor. Still, the sun shone directly in her eyes. Ahead of her, brake lights glowed red. Mary eased up on the gas. She let out a startled gasp as Google’s computerized voice spoke through her car speakers: “A crash up ahead has added nine minutes to your trip. You’re still on the fastest route.”
The left lane came to a stop. “Move, move, move!” Mary yelled out in the quiet of her Corolla. Vehicles in the center lane zoomed past her. She checked her rearview mirror for a chance to dash over. There was a small gap between a minivan and an Audi A4. She jerked the steering wheel right and stepped on the gas. The driver in the Audi leaned on the horn and gave her the finger.
A few yards up the road, the center lane came to a halt. Mary sighed and turned on the radio. Elton John sang the song from The Lion King , “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” Mary and Dean once took a nine-year-old Kendra to see the musical. Kendra had sat between the two of them on the edge of her seat with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Mary and Dean spent more time smiling at each other over Kendra’s head than looking at the stage. They’d had so many happy times together. Why had Mary believed the career she’d given up would bring her more joy than her family had? She had to get to Dean and convince him to do the interview.
I promise I’ll appreciate my family more if I can just get back.
The traffic inched forward. A police car pulled out of the median. A minute later, a siren blared. Mary checked her rearview mirror and saw blue flashing lights in the distance. The cars behind her all moved right. The cruiser got closer. Soon the trooper was riding her bumper. She moved right, allowing him to pass. Instead, he followed her. Her stomach sank. She steered into the breakdown lane and stopped. The police car pulled in several feet behind her.
She watched the state trooper through her rear window. He sat behind his steering wheel, staring down toward his lap. Her muscles tightened. She had no idea why he’d pulled her over. An eighteen-wheeler rumbled by, shaking her car. She checked on the police officer again. He remained sitting in the same position. Her phone rang. Darbi’s face flashed across the screen, and Mary sighed. She’d forgotten she was supposed to have dinner with Darbi and Jacqui. Her cousin had insisted to make sure Mary wasn’t still mad at her. While she hadn’t completely forgiven Darbi, she was less angry. She swiped to take the call.
“Where are you?” Darbi asked. “The food’s getting cold.”
“Dean’s at the golf course. I’m on my way to see him.”
The line went silent. “Not a good idea,” Darbi finally said. “You haven’t prepared.”
“What’s to prepare? I’m going to ask for an interview.”
“He won’t agree. Come over, and let’s come up with the best plan for you to approach him.”
A bang on the driver’s side window made Mary jump. The trooper stood beside the door with his hands on his hips.
“I have to go.” She disconnected and lowered the window.
The trooper bent a long way down to look at her. “License and registration.”
“What did I do? I couldn’t have been speeding.” She tilted her head toward the three lanes of slow-moving traffic.
“License and registration.” He said it louder and slower this time.
She fumbled through her glove box, removing a pile of napkins from Dunkin’, old sunglasses, packets of ketchup, a pair of mittens, plastic cutlery, a notepad, and the owner’s manual.
“I’m having trouble finding the registration.”
The police officer rapped on the roof of her car with his knuckles, his stern expression unnerving Mary.
She turned the owner’s manual upside down and fanned through the pages. The registration fluttered to the floor, landing between the gas pedal and brake. She bent to retrieve it and handed it to the officer, along with her license.
He studied the documents. “Ms. Mulligan, are you aware that your registration has expired?”
Expired? Mary’s mouth dropped open. “I, no. My husband usually takes care of that.” She pictured Dean bending at the back of her car, placing the new sticker on her license plate. He usually ended up taking her Lexus to the car wash and filling her tank as well. She moved her thumb to twist her wedding ring, but of course her finger was bare. Her face flushed. “I’ll take care of it. Today.” Could she do it online, or did she have to go to the registry? She had no idea because Dean had handled this task for her for the past twenty-six years. She felt a tender ache in her chest. He’d looked after her in all these little ways that she’d never noticed or appreciated.
She flashed her best smile at the trooper. “I really need to get going.”
The state trooper widened his stance. “I can’t let you drive an unregistered vehicle. Tow truck is on the way.”
Tom Petty singing “Even the Losers” blasted through the parking lot seconds before the yellow punch buggy turned into the tow yard. Darbi’s voice singing off key drifted out the car’s open roof. Mary closed her eyes. Darbi had pulled up to meet her so many times in Mary’s real life with the roof down singing at the top of her lungs that she could almost pretend she was home in Hudson sitting on her stoop. If everything went right, she could be back there soon.
She crossed her fingers and leaped off the metal folding chair, rushing to the VW’s passenger side. “You have to take me to Addison Heights Golf Club.”
Darbi removed her pink sunglasses and switched off the stereo. “Don’t you want to take care of this situation?” She waved her hand in the direction of Mary’s car. Even with its faded blue paint and many scratches, the Corolla looked pristine in this lot filled with totaled wrecks.
“They’re holding it hostage until I get it registered and pay them $250. Cash.”
“Damn crooks.” Darbi eyed the trailer that the tow yard used as an office as if she was considering busting in and giving them a piece of her mind.
“I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I want to see Dean.”
The muscles in Darbi’s cheeks twitched. “What are you going to say to him?”
The smell of a cigar drifted through the air. The tow truck driver stood by the trailer, smoking.
“I’m going to introduce myself, ask for an interview.”
“You think he’s going to know who you are, don’t you?”
“I’m leaving in twenty minutes,” the tow truck driver hollered. “If you don’t get me the cash by then, the car stays here until tomorrow, and it will cost another hundred for being here overnight.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself!” Darbi yelled, but the driver had his back to them, climbing the stairs to go inside.
“Let’s get out of here,” Mary said.
Darbi shifted the Volkswagen into drive and steered toward the exit while Mary pulled up directions to Addison Heights on her phone. “Golf course is twenty-six minutes away. We should be able to get there before it gets dark.”
Darbi said nothing, rubbing the back of her neck. The punch buggy bounced up and down as they drove over the bumpy dirt parking lot. At the exit, Darbi turned left. They traveled three miles down a country road with fields of cornstalks on one side and apple trees on the other until they reached an intersection.
“Take a left,” Mary said.
Darbi turned right. “I’m bringing you to the bank. I’ll even lend you the money.”
Mary twisted in her seat toward her cousin. “I appreciate that, but we don’t have time. I need to get to Dean before it gets dark and he leaves.”
“What are you going to do when you see him?”
“I’ll figure it out when I get there.”
“I knew it. You have no plan. You can’t just approach him.” Darbi spoke much faster than she usually did and drove much slower. “He won’t know who you are.”
Mary rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder, trying to release the tension in her neck, her anger at Darbi for getting her in this situation bubbling up. “Why are you trying to talk me out of going to see Dean?”
“You never think about consequences. That’s why you’re in this mess.”
“You didn’t explain things to me.” Mary spoke through gritted teeth. “That’s how I got in this mess.”
“I tried, but you wouldn’t listen.” Darbi turned onto a road lined with strip malls, restaurants, and gas stations. In the distance, a sign for MetroWest Bank stood taller than all the others. The electronic message under the bank’s name showed the temperature as eighty-one degrees and the time as 7:37. The sun would set soon.
The traffic light in front of them turned yellow. Darbi slammed on the brakes. As the VW came to a sudden stop, she threw her arm across Mary’s body.
Mary had done the same thing so many times in the car with Kendra that Kendra referred to Mary’s right arm as the “magical safety bar.” Mary’s eyes brimmed with tears. She needed to convince Dean to agree to the interview so she could get back to Kendra. “You should have driven through the light.”
“Says the woman who just had her car impounded.”
“We need to get to the golf course.”
“We’re not going there.” Darbi pulled at her seat belt as if it was suddenly too tight.
Mary jabbed at her phone’s keyboard, searching for the Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles, and then hit the link for the website. “I won’t blow this. Is that what you’re worried about?”
The light turned green, and Darbi continued toward the bank. Finally, she pulled into the parking lot and steered toward the ATM. After throwing the car into park, she turned toward Mary, rocking back and forth. For a few seconds she stared without saying anything. “I need to ...” She buried her head in her hands.
“What?” Mary asked. She was so close to getting back that she couldn’t understand why Darbi wasn’t as excited as she was. “I’m so close to getting that promotion.”
Darbi looked up, the rims of her eyes bright red. “I need to.” She swallowed hard. “To prepare you for seeing Dean again. Let’s strategize tomorrow.”
“No, I’m going to see him as soon as I get my car.” Mary stared down at her phone. The website still hadn’t come up. “Load, already,” she pleaded. An error message popped up: The Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles website is unavailable while we conduct emergency maintenance. “I feel like the universe is conspiring against me today.”