"Thank God for cell phones," she told herself aloud while she was waiting. And thank God for the least bit of cell reception out here, she thought after that. She blew her frustration out of her barely open lips, as she stood impatiently waiting for an Operator to come on the line.
She had known her old Ford truck was giving up the ghost for a while now, but as a retired school teacher, she didn't really have the money to replace it. And since she lived out here, 'in the boonies' as a friend from her last school had said, she needed this old truck (or something else) desperately. She couldn't afford to move (although she knew that she should). Transportation was the only remaining thread that she was living by.
Linda had been divorced and on her own for almost twenty years now. Her job had been her only lifeline for a while now, and when the school district severely cut back on teachers, she had been left high and dry. She had reluctantly took the early retirement that they offered her to say goodbye to 'higher education.'
"At least that deadbeat ex- of mine left me the house," she had told her best friend Charlene.
He had left her for a younger woman once her long blond hair began turning grey. He had stayed with her, even though she was infertile, as long as she was "cute and fuckable." Once she 'wasn't...'
"Yeah, right," Charlene had guffawed. "Better than having to fix it up and live in it himself!" Charlene really loved her best friend Linda, but had said many times over to her, "My dear, you have the worst luck in men I think I've ever seen."
"Why do you think I've never re-married?" Linda had asked rhetorically. Charlene had just given Linda that look and said nothing more.
It was not as if Linda was a bad looking woman. But now that she was in her sixties, she 'knew' that her boyfriend hunting days were behind her. Her long steel grey hair matched her slender, "not exactly well-endowed body" her ex-husband had chided her for.
Once upon a time however, she was 'quite the catch' as the old saying used to go. She was tall and slender, with her long blond hair down to her waist. She was often compared favorably to the singer Carly Simon then. That was after all, why her husband had married her in the first place.
But then when she had crossed the line into her forties, not only had she not 'produced any offspring' for him, but he began chiding her about maybe "get a boob job." That would enhance his interest in her. Which she had no interest in fulfilling that fantasy for.
So he left her. For a woman in her twenties that had "the kind of tits I'm looking for." By that point, Linda was exhausted from hearing his fantasies. She hadn't objected when he wanted a divorce. "Just leave me the house and land," she had told him.
Her lack of desire of 'finding a man' again had led into her teaching long hours to make up for that 'lack' in her life. Charlene, who was on the 'homely' side, had become her bulwark against loneliness over the years. Til the two friends slowly became the only friends that each other had.
"Come on," she said quietly to the non-existent operator, stamping her feet against the ever more chilling cold that was settling in around her. She hesitated to get back into the truck for fear of loosing the fragile thread of a cell signal that would strand her here overnight.
"Thank you for waiting," the female Voice finally said moments later when she finally got through. "What seems to be your problem?" This kindly voice asked.
"The lights just keep on getting dimmer, until the engine finally stopped," Linda said, shivering now.
"It's a good thing you still have some miles left on your plan," she was told. "Is there a mechanics shop that you'd like it to be towed to?"
"If the tow truck guy has a battery he can replace mine with so I can just get myself home, I'd appreciate it."
"I'm sure that he can help out with that," he Operator said. "Whereabouts are you located?"
Linda had reluctantly told her just where she was, about ten miles out in the middle of nowhere. She hoped that this tow driver wouldn't leaver her stranded because of where she was.
"That won't happen," the Operator assured her. "But because of your location, it could be a couple of hours before we have him arriving. Will you be ok in the meantime?"
Wrapping her coat around herself, she told her, "Tell him I'll probably be asleep in my truck, in case he needs to call me."
"Will do, mam."
Linda reluctantly hit the disconnect button, and shook herself with a "Brrrr," and got back in the cab.
--------------
She was startled by the loud knock on her window, causing her to jump and look around herself wildly.
When she calmed down, the voice of the man outside came through her shock.
"Sorry, Mam," he apologized. "You were kind of fast asleep."
She saw a younger man with long hair standing just outside. Nodding, she opened the door. "Your dispatcher explained what my problem was, yes?"
He nodded affirmative. "Why don't you go and get in my cab," he said. "Warm yourself up."
She nodded vigorously at this and sighed. "Let me know if it's hopeless," she said over her shoulder as she walked away.
A shot time later, he was opening up his driver door and getting in. "Would you like the good news first? Or the bad news?"
"The bad news is, let's shoot her and put her out of her misery," Linda smirked. "So what's the good news?"
"The bad news is, your alternators gone. The belt snapped. And the good news is, your engine didn't seize. It can probably be fixed."
Sighing mightily, Linda said nothing for a long few moments. "So you have the gun?' she almost asked him. "Becky" (which Linda had named the truck years back), might as well be dead. Engine still intact or not.
"Do I have enough in my plan to tow me home?" She asked, her voice choked with emotion. What the hell am I going to do? She asked herself. Take out a second mortgage on the house just to buy a new car?
"Mam," he said courteously but hesitantly, "Are you sure that there isn't a mechanic I can tow you to?"
"You and I both know that it isn't worthwhile to try and fix a thirty-five year old truck," she said in a trembling voice.
He reached over and placed his hand on her closest arm comfortingly. Being in a rather shocked state, she didn't react negatively to this kindness, but placed her hand every so gently on his.
"I'm Paul," he said quietly, gently squeezing his hand on her arm.
He was thirty-two, recently divorced and not really disposed to yet another woman who wanted him to both stay at home as well as 'being home the bacon.' As a tow truck operator, he put in long hours. Especially out here in the country. When he had come home early one day and found his wife fucking his 'best friend' (in his own bed, no less), that was 'enough already.'
He'd had enough of 'make more money' women, or the 'get me barefoot and pregnant' types. He thought Lucinda was different, but found out the hard way she wasn't.
Now he looked over at this woman that was, yes, old enough to be his mother, but what he saw was her elegant long grey hair and her fairly line-free for her age face. She was starkly beautiful in an ageless sort of way that appealed to him. Her body looked on the rather nice side as well, now that she had opened up the front of her coat to relax.
This woman wouldn't be wanting children, he thought. And it looked like she wasn't looking to find a man to take care of her. She had a long shapely face with high cheek bones that made her look like a fairy queen, especially with her long grey hair curling about her shoulders.
She finally looked up at him, with a gentle smile beginning to grace her face. She blushed, and said simply, "Linda."
That smile melted his heart. He wanted to grab both of her hands, lean in and kiss them in a courtly fashion. But I don't really know you, he thought. "How about I hook it up and take it to your home. That is, until you know what you're going to do with it." He really wanted to see that fairy form of hers in a long slender dress, hugging her curves in candlelight.
"But that would take you out of your way," Linda protested lightly. My God, the way he looks at me! I could get very used to that.
