by Meg Napier
“Oh, my. So you’re definitely not among the unemployed at the moment.”
Another indeterminate sound. “No. Not by any means.” He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “Have you lost your job?”
“Me? No. I’m still performing a valiant service. I help write the advertising copy you hear on all the inspiring commercials these days. You know, the ones where multi-million dollar companies reassure you that they have your personal interests at heart and not at all their bottom line.”
Her tone was wry and he seemed to catch on immediately.
“Ah. A true essential worker. Should I thank you for your service?”
Lizzie snorted. “Please. I’m suffering from survivor’s guilt as it is just from bringing in a paycheck. But I really am sorry I didn’t put my mask on before getting in the car. I haven’t been tested, but I’ve never had any symptoms.”
“That’s good, at least. Not because I was worried about you in particular, but just because too many people are still sick or carrying it while not exhibiting any symptoms. I’m on my way to my mother’s house, and I worry about her catching it.”
She felt herself coloring and was glad the mask hid her face, even in the darkness. “I haven’t been around anyone who was sick. I’ve really hardly been around anyone at all besides my son these last several months. I just dropped him at an apartment in Charlottesville, but there wasn’t even anyone in the building while we were moving his stuff in. I’m really pretty sure I’m not carrying it.” Even to her own ears she was protesting a bit too much.
“It’s okay.” He raised his hands in the universal sign for uncertainty. “If you’ve been following stay-at-home advice, you’ve already been doing more than a lot of people. I understand needing to work, needing to earn money. But I do not understand young people attending crowded parties, or families hauling their kids to beaches or pools where everyone is on top of each other.”
His voice sounded utterly exhausted, and Lizzie felt a flash of sympathy.
“Is your mom at high risk? I mean, obviously, she can’t be young, but is she sick in general?”
A bark of laughter. “Not by a long shot. A part of me almost wishes she were, cause it might keep her in one spot for more than sixty seconds. Speaking of which, I have to call her and let her know I’ll be late. I don’t want her rounding up a search party.”
At that moment the policeman knocked again on Evan’s window.
“Here you are, ma'am.” He handed the license to Evan, who passed it to her. There was a piece of paper folded around it.
“This is going to take a little while. We’ve got roadblocks up about a mile back at a cut-through in the median. Since there are no easy detours in this area and traffic is light, we’re blocking off traffic in the left lane of the southbound side to get everyone about a half-mile north of here where there’s another cut-through. You’ll be the last car to leave this spot and my car will follow yours until we get to the turn-around. Go ahead and move your vehicle now, slowly, and then wait for me to beep for you to follow the others. Just keep it nice and slow.”
He continued. “I’ve given you the number to call tomorrow about your vehicle, ma'am. They’ll be coming to work on moving this tree as soon as we’re out of the way, and whoever answers that number should be able to tell you what they’ve done with your car.”
“Thank you.” Evan and Lizzie both spoke at once, and then Evan closed the window as the officer moved away.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called ‘ma'am’ quite like that. Makes me feel old enough to be his grandmother.”
Evan shot her a quick glance but didn’t say anything. It was dark, and it was probably just as well he couldn’t really see her. She felt old. The policeman was probably justified in ‘ma'am-ing’ her. The last ten years had been lonely, but she had tried to stay vibrant and joyful, if only for Daniel’s sake. These last few months, though, had left her feeling utterly deflated. Her work not only was no longer challenging, but it was down-right annoying most of the time. At a moment when people were dying, families were being torn apart, medical workers were being asked to make untenable sacrifices, did it really matter all that much whether a company proclaimed “We’re in this together” or “We’re all in this together”?
She had never dyed her hair, but just recently she had begun to notice gray streaks amongst the mostly ash-blonde strands. She had kept her figure over the years through regular running, and she was neither fat nor thin, tall nor short. Today she had abandoned the tailored work blouses she usually wore for video conferences and was wearing a UVA basketball championship t-shirt her son had given her for her birthday and a pair of denim capri pants.
Stop acting like an idiot. It didn’t matter what she looked like. This man had gone out of his way to be kind under bizarre circumstances, that was all. It also didn’t matter in the slightest that his profile, even in the dark, and half-hidden behind a mask, emanated strength and a most-definite aura of masculinity that she hadn’t found herself noticing in years. She looked down at her lap, determined to avoid eye contact. It had just been too long, that was all. Yes, right now there was a pandemic, but it had been years since she’d spent extensive one-on-one time with a man. Her friends had tried to get her out on dates, and she had reluctantly agreed a few times, but they had all been disasters. Men her age were either bitter or gleeful divorcees, or they were aggressively unencumbered, just out for no-strings-attached good times and good sex. In either case, the encounters left her exhausted and dispirited.
Evan tapped the screen in the middle of the dash, and she heard the phone call going through. Feeling like she was intruding, Lizzie turned to stare again at the wet blackness out her window. Being right there had seemed normal during the 911 call, but she felt awkward now, and she did her best to tune out the voice coming from the speakers.
“Hi, Mom. Yes, I’m fine. A tree came down on 29 and we’re having to detour. Yes, I’m sure. You doing okay?” Pause. “Why don’t you go to bed? I might be really late, since I’m giving a ride to someone who lives in Arlington.”
“No.” Lizzie waved her hand to interrupt. “You don’t have to do that. You can leave me at the Starbucks in Warrenton, and I can get a ride.”
Even with only his eyes and evidently very expressive eyebrows showing, Evan instantly conveyed his dismissal of that idea.
“Evan? Who’s there with you? Don’t you even think of leaving a young woman alone in Starbucks.”
“I won’t, Mom. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not a young woman, and I have my dog with me.” Politeness be damned, Lizzie had to interrupt again.
“Even more reason. You can’t bring a dog into a Starbucks. Unless it’s a seeing eye dog. You’re not blind, are you?”
Evan’s head dipped at his mother’s lack of social mores.
“Mother, everything’s under control. This nice woman’s car was hit by the falling tree, but fortunately, she and her dog are fine, even though her car isn’t. And I’m almost certain that since she was driving the now crushed car, she’s not blind. I’m going to drive them home, and then I’ll get to your house just a little later than I planned.”
“No!” Lizzie waved her hand to interrupt once more. “You really don’t have to... “
“Nice woman, you can hear me, right? Are you sure you’re not hurt? You must have been scared out of your wits.”
“I’m fine, really. Your son has gone above and beyond helping us. And I don’t need to be driven all the way to Arlington.” Even as she spoke, Lizzie was struck by the oddity of the ongoing conversation.
“Of course, you do. He said your car was hit by a tree, for heaven’s sake. What’s your name, dear?”
Lizzie tilted her head slightly, staring in bemusement at the call screen, which, of course, helped not at all.
“Lizzie. Lizzie Rodriguez.”
“Well, Lizzie Rodriguez, I’m Diane Graves. And it would be a pleasure to meet you one day, but not
tonight. Right now you need to get home safely. You’ve got that, Evan? You take her straight home.”
“Yes, Mother. I believe that was my intention from the beginning.”
“As it should have been. Now drive carefully. There might be more loose trees out there.”
“I will, Mom. I’ll see you later. Love you.”
“I love you, too. Goodnight, Lizzie.”
The phone disconnected and they both started to laugh.
“So now you’ve met my mother. She’s a force of nature.”
“I can tell. No wonder you have a hard time keeping her at home.”
Evan had turned his car around while his mother was on the line. They heard the loud toot of the police horn behind them, and Evan began driving the short distance south in the northbound lanes.
“If it weren’t for the fact that my car’s now rubbish, and it’s pitch black outside and raining, this would be neat—29 from a whole new perspective.”
“Do you drive this route often?”
“My son’s starting his third year at UVA now, and he did a summer program there when he was still in high school, so I’ve been driving back and forth fairly frequently. Only one speeding ticket, so far,” she finished wryly.
“Me, too! Where was yours?”
“Greene County.”
“Mine was in Madison. I think speeding tickets between Charlottesville and Gainesville fund half Virginia’s budget.”
The cop had been right: the turn-around wasn’t far at all.
“I know! And this is how they do it. They have all these cut-throughs strategically placed in the hills so they can nab us going five miles above the speed limit. But he was nice tonight. I feel sorry for all of these guys having to manage the roadblocks and the cones. They must be totally miserable out there in the rain.”
Evan shot her another quick glance. “They’re probably happy they didn’t have to deal with injuries or mangled car parts strewn across the road. Your car surrendered pretty gracefully, all things considered.”
Lizzie laughed. “It did, didn’t it? And common sense has been telling me for years now that it was time to get a new car. I was just holding out as long as I could.”
It didn’t take much time to get to north of their original spot, and another patrol car was there directing them back through yet another cut-through. Once they were finally heading north in the north-bound lanes, Evan broke the silence.
“So what’s your son studying?”
Lizzie’s eyes closed briefly as she thought of her beloved son. “What’s he not studying might almost be easier. He went in thinking about pre-med, but he’s fascinated by the mind, and now he throws out phrases like neuro-chemical biology, which I guess still might make him pre-med. But he loves computer science, as well, and right now he’s talking about completing a double major. And there’s a girl he likes who’s majoring in Chinese, so now he’s talking about taking a Chinese course.”
“Whoa, you’re lucky. So many kids seem to go to college to major in frat parties and black-out drinking marathons.”
“That’s for sure. But one of Daniel’s friends in high school died from an overdose, so I think he’s more careful than most. He’s not a saint, but he keeps his head about him.”
“Losing a friend must have been tough. But I suppose it taught him early on that no one’s invincible. A lot of them still don’t get that, even though young people are dying from this virus. You didn’t mind sending him back to school?”
“Of course I minded.” Lizzie’s voice was quiet. “But I can’t keep him tied to me. He’s got a big enough complex as it is, thinking he has to take care of me. He has to live his own life.”
Another quick glance. “Classes don’t start for a while. Why did he want to be there early?”
“He’s taking a paramedic training course.”
“Wow. Good for him.”
“Yeah.” Lizzie couldn’t say more. This guy didn’t have to listen to her whine.
There was quiet for a few minutes. But maybe it was better to talk? It was late at night, and he might be tired. Or better to leave him be? They were strangers after all. But he had been more than kind.
“So what about you? Do you visit your mom often?”
Evan laughed. “Usually not as often as I have this spring and summer. But my mother insists on defying the senior in senior citizen. She’s spent the last few months recuperating from a fall from a pogo stick.”
Lizzie stared at him, eyes wide.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
“Sounds like my Daniel and your mother would like each other.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that. She loves young people. She is always forwarding this or that to me from YouTube and is on social media platforms I’ve never even heard of. And now she’s proud as a peacock that she managed the latest Tik Tok challenge.”
“What was that?”
“I have no idea. I’ve had to learn over the years to siphon off the important points of her conversations. Otherwise I might go mad, myself.”
Lizzie laughed. “But like you said about Daniel, better that way than the alternative, right?”
“God, yes. As crazy as she makes us, my sister and I were so relieved she wasn’t in a rehab center or nursing home during this nightmare. Those numbers were horrible. Absolutely reprehensible.”
Another silence. There really wasn’t anything positive one could say about the number of elderly people who had died during the pandemic. The rain had decreased from torrential to a steady downpour, but Evan was still driving below the speed limit, taking care. His next question was startling.
“Forgive me if this is too personal, but why does your son feel like he has to take care of you? You seem eminently capable of taking care of yourself, aside from falling trees.”
Lizzie let out a small sigh. This was a moment she hated, one that she tried not to encounter, if at all possible. People looked differently at widows, avoided certain subjects, or asked her how she really was, as if she didn’t have good days and bad days just like everyone else on the planet.
“My husband died when Daniel was ten. He was always bright and attuned to the world around him, and he got it in his head that he had to take care of me since his Daddy was gone.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. It was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, but a little boy never gets over losing his dad.”
His words were sharp, and Lizzie stared at his profile. Yet another thing to hate about this stupid virus. Masks made it hard to read facial expressions, and from this angle, she couldn’t even see his eyes.
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“I do, to an extent. My father didn’t die, but he ceased being a part of my life when I was eight.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need. It was a long time ago, as you said. Was your husband ill?”
“No. It was a freak accident. Kind of like tonight, only I’m still alive.”
Lizzie bit her lip, and for a moment, she didn’t breathe. Daniel really could have been left all alone if that tree had hit less than a second later.
He must have sensed her disquiet, because Evan reached out and put a hand on top of her own.
“Hey. It missed you. You are alive. You and your dog both.”
She looked at him. His eyes were intent on the road, but his broad hand on her own was reassuring and felt bizarrely natural.
She forced herself to breathe normally.
“You’re right. Blue and I are fine. And thanks to you, we’re not standing out in the storm waiting to be hit by something else.”
“And, as your commercials keep telling us, the car companies are here for you.” His tone was light, coaxing her to relax, and he put his hand back on the wheel. “You’ll have salespeople falling over each other trying to convince you why their model is best.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “That they will.”
Blue’s normally loud breathing had turned into a low whimper at the sound of his name, and Lizzie turned in her seat to put a hand on the dog’s neck.
“It’s okay, boy.”
“How old is he?
“Blue? Eleven. We got him as a puppy shortly before Miguel’s death.”
“Eleven’s getting up there for a purebred.”
“Shhh. Don’t say that. The car was one thing, but Blue’s gotta last a long time, yet.”
After a short pause, he laughed. “There’s absolutely nothing I can say to that that won’t come out wrong, so I’ll just keep quiet.”
Lizzie gave her own small laugh.
“I know. I live in denial. It’s not a bad place, sometimes, given the world around us.”
They had finally reached the turn-off to I-66, the highway that led through the suburbs into DC. Traffic was moving well, the rain having tapered off even more.
“We’re going to be in Vienna in no time. It’s really okay if you go directly there. I can get a ride at that point.”
“And have my mother kill me? No thank you. Besides, rides aren’t as easy to get as they were back in normal time, especially if you’ve got a big dog who isn’t a service animal.”
Lizzie laughed again, remembering his mother’s silly question. “All right. I guess I’ll have to pull out some of my rarely used graceful acquiescence. One of my son’s favorite expressions is, ‘Just say okay, Mom!’”
“He does sound like a remarkable young man.”
“He is. I’m incredibly lucky. Do you have children?”
“Me?” He made a derisive snorting sound. “No. I thought it was best the line stop with me. The male line, at least. My sister lives in California and has two children, but she’s got a good husband, so we’re hoping nurture wins out over nature.”
She stared at him, confused.
“I know I don’t know you, and I suppose it’s possible you’re a part-time axe-murderer, but you seem like a remarkably decent human being. You didn’t have to give me a ride—the police would have arranged something. And your mother’s attitude shows a tendency towards extraordinary kindness.”