45
I was nearly home, less than a block from the shopping center where Greene’s was, when I heard a hiss followed by a loud thwap thwap thwap sound that repeated as the car veered to the right. I tried to steady the wheel, but it was no use, as I eventually pulled to a stop on the gravel shoulder.
After checking the mirror to make sure no cars were coming, I got out and quickly walked to the passenger side to see what had happened, only to discover my front right tire was completely flat.
I let out a small scream of frustration, kicking at the faulty tire, which only resulted in a shooting pain in my foot.
Suddenly, it was all too much. Harry. Ruth. Losing and then regaining my job. Everything. Now this. There was only so much one woman could take, and I’d had enough.
I sank down next to the car, ignoring the sharp gravel that tore my stockings, and wept for the life I had lost and the one I now had to live.
Three years ago, if I had gotten a flat tire, I would have walked to Greene’s, called Harry, and he would have left work to come deal with my tire. Who did I have now?
Janet said no one could do it all alone, but I was alone.
Ruth’s parents had been her age when they died.
What if Dr. Lefkowitz was wrong? What if she didn’t make it through the night?
How would I break the news to Susie and Bobby?
How would they make it through one more loss so young?
And what if something happened to me? What if it had been my left tire and I had veered into oncoming traffic?
What then? I cried harder. I couldn’t fix this.
I couldn’t fix any of this. Not for me. Not for the kids.
My whole perfect little life had come crumbling down, and it didn’t matter how much I tried to pretend I could do everything because the universe was just going to keep reminding me that Harry was gone, and any one of us could be next.
“Barbara?” I heard, eventually. My head was on my knees, but I knew the voice, which filled me with equal parts hope and despair right then. I felt someone crouch down beside me. “A customer came in and said there was a broken-down car and a woman crying,” he said, settling next to me.
“Oh, Eddie,” I sobbed.
He put an arm around me and let me continue to cry, smoothing my hair with his other hand. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Nothing is okay,” I said, picking up my head, not even caring what a mess I must be. “Nothing.”
“It’s just a flat tire,” he said. “I can put your spare on, easy.”
“It’s not just a flat,” I said. “It’s everything. Ruth is in the hospital—you can’t tell your father that—she’s—”
“Is she all right?”
I nodded. “She thought it was a heart attack, but the cardiologist called it an ...” I fumbled for the words he had used. “Acute ... anxiety ... something. Not serious. She can probably come home tomorrow, pending blood work. But I—I—” The tears started flowing too strongly to speak again.
“She’ll be fine, then,” he said. “We’ll put the spare on. You can even take my car, and I’ll go get you a new tire. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Nothing is okay!” I said again. “What happens when you’re not here next time?”
“You find a phone and you call me,” he said. “And I will be there.”
I shook my head. “I can’t keep leaning on you. I’m not your sister. And I can’t keep relying on the kindness of strangers.”
“Easy there, Blanche,” he said, and I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice even though I wasn’t looking at him. “And we’re hardly strangers. I’ve known you since you were eighteen.”
“You know what I mean,” I said mournfully.
“I’m here,” Eddie said. “I’m not going anywhere. Let me help.”
“But you will go someday. You’ll get tired of helping the poor widow and her fatherless children, and what will I do then? Better you teach me to change the tire myself.”
“I can do that if you want,” he said lightly. “But not today. Not when you’re this upset.”
I took a deep breath, hiccuping slightly. “I’m okay,” I said shakily, wiping at my eyes. I glanced down at my fingers, which came away black. “Oh no.”
A piece of cloth came into my field of vision as Eddie handed me his handkerchief, which I used to try to wipe the mascara away. Then I looked up at Eddie and attempted a small smile of thanks.
“Do you want me to call Janet and have her pick Susie and Bobby up from school?” he asked.
I struggled to stand up. “What time is it?”
Eddie looked at his watch. “A couple of minutes past three.”
“It’s too late. She’ll have already left. How long does it take to change a tire?”
“Take my car,” Eddie said again. “I’ll deal with all of this.”
I looked down at myself. “My stockings are ruined,” I said.
“Then take them off.”
“What?”
“I’ll turn around,” he said. “Actually, I’ll go get the jack out of your trunk while you take them off. You have one, right?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, that’ll be lesson one when I teach you. Make sure you have a jack.” Eddie stood up and walked around the back of the car to the driver’s side. “I’m not looking, I promise.”
“On the side of the road?”
“Sit in the passenger seat,” Eddie said. “I’m just opening the trunk.”
I did as he said, leaving the door open as I unclipped my stockings from their garters and rolled first the right, then the left down my legs and over my feet.
“Let me know when you’re decent,” Eddie called from behind the open trunk.
I pulled a compact out of my purse—my face was far from decent. I scrubbed under my eyes with Eddie’s handkerchief, and then slipped my shoes back onto my now-bare feet. “I’m okay,” I said.
“Probably better if you hop out,” he said, offering me a hand, the jack in the other.
“It’s going to be a lot harder if the car is in the air.
” I took his hand and stood, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, which he passed to me.
“I’ll put the spare on, then take it over to Reed Brothers for a new tire.
You know which car is mine, right? I can walk you over if not. ”
I looked at him for a long time. “Why are you so good to me?”
He held my eye for a moment, then looked down at the ground but didn’t answer.
A tiny voice in my head told me to leave well enough alone. But the words came tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You’re going to be a great husband someday when you meet the right girl.”
“Not likely,” he said, still looking at the ground.
“Why?” I asked. It came out as barely a whisper.
For a long moment he didn’t reply. Then he lifted his eyes. “Because the right girl thinks of me like a brother.”
I couldn’t speak. I half wished he would take me in his arms, and half wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole right then and there.
Finally, I croaked out his name. “Eddie, I—”
“Don’t,” he said, turning back toward the car. “I already know. Just go pick up the kids so they’re not worried.”
“Eddie—”
“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’ll bring your car back tonight. You can just leave the keys in mine if you don’t want to see me.”
I always want to see you, I thought. But the fear of what such a response would mean kept me frozen.
“Go on,” he said. “You’re going to be late.”
I turned and ran toward the parking lot before the tears started to flow again in earnest.