Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I shook my head slowly, wanting him to be less screechy—small area and all that. “It’s my eyebrow, I think. Don’t worry about it. Just tell me about this guy. Hell, we’re gonna be here awhile.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” His voice was rising again, sounding worried.
“Absolutely,” I assured him, even as my right wrist was going numb. Better numb, though, than the shooting pain that had been happening before. “Hurry up and talk so I don’t fret back here.”
“Okay, so, we met at Spin, and he just walks up and—”
“Morning, folks.” A man poked his head through the broken window.
We both looked at him at the same time, and he started laughing. Breckin told me later he had never seen two people trapped inside a crushed car look so annoyed. It was completely unexpected and refreshing. I suppose most people would panic even after they had been assured by several firemen that they would not be blowing up or rolling anymore. We knew we would get out; it was simply a matter of when. I trusted firemen. They weren’t like policemen, who had a difficult reputation. Firemen were always there to help; they didn’t hand out parking or speeding tickets or scare you. So when one of them kept coming over and told you they were working on it, I figured, yeah, they were working on it.
“Our understanding is that it’s tricky,” I told the stranger in our midst. “If you pull Matt out, it puts strain on where I am and I get crushed, and if you pull me out, the same scenario plays out for him. Is that the gist of it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then.” I sighed, then took a deep breath. “So what’s the plan?”
“I’m not sure. I’m not with the fire department.”
“Who are you, then? And what are you good for?”
“I’m a doctor. I’m on my monthly ride-along, and so here we all are,” he finished with a flourish and smile.
“Where are you from?” Matt inquired, really looking at him.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you’ve got an accent,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Where are you from?”
“Why, I’m originally from Georgia, sir.”
Maybe because I was losing blood, maybe because I had a concussion, possibly because his eyes were so blue and crinkled in half when he smiled—I didn’t know. All I did know then was that he was making me feel better.
“I’ve never been to Georgia,” I said, then looked over at Matt. “But I’m thinking perhaps we should plan a trip soon.”
“Oh yes, definitely,” Matt agreed. “Let us be off to the state with the peaches.”
“But you said originally?” I delved in because why not. We had time.
“I did,” he said with a grin. “We moved to Vermont when I was eleven, but by then the accent, or at least a bit of it, stays with you.”
Matt grunted. “That makes sense.”
“Is Vermont the place where all the trees turn the pretty colors in the fall?”
“Leaves turn colors, not trees,” Matt corrected me.
“He knew what I meant.”
“I did know what he meant,” Breckin concurred, “and yes. The colors are really beautiful.”
I looked at Matt. “We should go to Vermont too.”
Matt was quiet for a moment. “That would be a weird trip from a logistic standpoint,” he concluded thoughtfully, “but doable.”
“You two still having a good time in there?” a voice asked from the other side of the car.
That was Kevin, our fireman. “Kevin!” I yelled out.
“Kev!” Matt echoed me. “Kevin, my man, give us the good news!”
“Kevin, my love!” I laughed because he was shaking his head like he couldn’t believe us. “Get us the hell out of here!”
“What’s goin’ on, baby?” Matt asked quickly. “Gonna be out in a sec, right?”
Kevin laughed before saying, “Not yet, guys, but we’re working on it. We might have to get a crane out here.”
“Not the jaws of life?” I offered.
“You watch too much TV,” he assured me.
“That’s very possible,” I agreed.
“And no. We can get you out. The issue is the weight distribution and the hill, of course. Your angle is not great.”
“A crane sounds fabulous,” I said cheerfully, then to Matt, “A crane. Maybe we’ll make the evening news.”
“TV?” Matt asked. “Am I gonna be on TV?”
“If he’s gonna be on TV, we need some stylists in here first.”
“Damn right,” Matt agreed wholeheartedly.
“Did you call Matt’s boss like he asked you to?” I asked Kevin.
“What did the asshole, I mean my boss, say?” Matt took a deep inhale. “Am I in trouble?”
“He said you were excused from work today.”
“Oh hallelujah. Praise the Lord and pass the biscuits. I get a goddamn day off because I’m trapped inside a fuckin’ upside-down car,” Matt ranted.
“C’mon, Kev,” I teased the fireman, “you were surprised his boss wasn’t more concerned, weren’t you? C’mon, you can tell him. You were kinda shocked, kinda taken aback.”