She walked down the edge of the road, her headphones in her ears attached to her phone that sat in the back pocket. The sun beat down oppressively on a June afternoon, making her shoulders pink where the straps of her tank top didn't cover them. She stayed on the gravel and the grass where she could, out of the way of the passing cars. It wasn't a busy road, more like a neighborhood street. Houses stood far apart from each other down long driveways with patches of wooded area between them. She's walked this road hundreds of times and felt like she knew every uneven spot, every overgrown patch that intruded onto the road, the dent in the guard rail from Levi Hogan's drunk driving accident their senior year, three years ago, the Gardener family's elaborate mailbox designed to look like the miniature version of their house.
She could feel it when cars were coming down behind her and instinctively stepped further away from the pavement as the truck slowed down next to her. She wasn't paying attention to it, not until the driver lowered the passenger side window and called out to her.
"Marcy!" She looked over at him, pulling the headphone out of her left ear. "Hey, where are you headed?" She recognized the man behind the wheel. Dennis lived up the street from her, was probably a good ten years older, and at one point, back when they were both in high school, dated Marcy's oldest sister.
"Hey. Just down to the A&P. For work," she told him. It was down at the bottom of their street, a twenty-five minute walk from her house, only fifteen more from where she stood now. Dennis shifted his truck into park.
"Hop in, I'll give you a ride," he offered.
"Thanks," she pulled open the door, holding onto it for leverage as she struggled to hoist herself up to the passenger seat. It was a big truck and had no running boards and she wasn't exactly a big person. Marcy shut the door, settling herself into the passenger seat and buckling the seatbelt. Dennis smirked at her when she looked over.
"That was amusing to watch," he commented, shifting back into drive and looking over his shoulder as he pulled away.
"Short girl problems," she rolled her eyes.
"I don't usually see you around. Did you just move back home or something?" He asked, switching his gaze between the road and her.
"I'm in college. Just home for the summer." She wouldn't say that she ran into Dennis frequently before she had gone away either. Not since she was a little kid and he was with Sadie.
"Why are you walking?"
"I like to walk." It wasn't a flippant response, she meant it. It wasn't that far to walk and the 2000 Buick LaSabre that she got secondhand from her dad was not exactly fuel-efficient. It also had the 'check engine' light on for over a month now and she was a little bit scared to be stranded somewhere in it. Then she'd had to pay for a tow truck in addition to the repairs. She figured that she probably saved a good amount of money walking to and from work over the summer and could eventually afford to take it into the shop and actually have it checked out. And maybe, while she was at it, she could have the AC checked on too, cause that stopped working over a year ago now.
"Ok, I'll grant you that it's probably ok right now, as you're going in, but when do you get off?" His eyes were on the road as they rounded the curve.
"Tonight - at 10."
"And you walk home, in the dark, up this road?" Dennis's eyebrows went up.
"Sometimes. Frequently I bum a ride off of someone." Dennis smirked. "Sadie's supposed to get me tonight." He nodded.
"That's good." He seemed genuinely relieved when he pulled into the A&P parking lot, taking her right up to the entrance.
"Thanks for the ride," she smiled at him, undoing her seatbelt.
"No problem," Dennis gave her a little salute with his hand, smiling at her before she let herself out.
Now she was even earlier for her shift than she was going to be had she walked. She walked through the store towards the backroom to pull on her uniform and store her bag. She didn't think too much about Dennis. It wasn't the first time that someone had picked her up on the road and had given her a ride. It was a really small town and people knew each other. She had lived in the same house her entire life and her parents had been there at least ten years before she was born. Five years ago, when her mom suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm and suddenly passed away, the neighbors definitely pulled together, even more, checking in on them constantly and bringing over meals for them. She had been fifteen, still in high school, her middle sister, Talia, was twenty-one and away at college, and Sadie was twenty-three and living back home again. It was a rough time. Dad didn't deal with it well, working longer hours, drinking more when he was home, withdrawing into himself. But the neighbors and the town were there for them, holding them up. It didn't seem strange or out of the ordinary to rely on help from others, to accept a dish of casserole or a ride from someone.
She didn't give Dennis another thought until he pulled up next to her again as she walked home from work that night.
****
He spotted her in the light of his headlights as he made his way back up the hill. He had been out all afternoon, helping his buddy Tim put together a swing set for his kid. He stayed over for dinner and a couple of beers before heading home and there she was again. Marcy Barton could easily be mistaken for a child. She was five feet tall, at most, probably didn't weigh any more than a hundred pounds, had her shoulder-length dirty blond hair in a ponytail, and wore no makeup. When he looked at her sitting in his passenger seat earlier that day, he desperately tried to remember how old she was when he dated her sister Sadie. Six or seven? But she said she was in college now. It made him feel old.
"Marcy!" He called out to her, rolling down the passenger side window. She approached the truck, looking in at him. "Did you seriously lie to me before about having a ride home tonight?"
