Even If

by Bethany Riehl

  The full week of working at the bakery early in the morning would have passed in a blur if Lillian wasn’t so anxious to hear about the management position. As such, it dawdled on, every detail sharp and vivid.

  Mid-week, Lillian realized that regardless if she was offered the job or not, she had to move and should be prepared. Packing would keep her busy while she waited. She walked down to the bar across the street and asked if she could have their empty boxes, thinking the size and sturdiness of their liquor boxes would be just right. Nan had a few to donate as well. Lillian was able to pack most of her apartment in two days—leaving out her clothes, some movies, and kitchen essentials.

  In all of her coming and going, Lillian never once set eyes on Chuck. She reasoned with herself that she’d never seen him before she met him at Nan’s. Or at least, not after the embarrassing encounter in Bittercreek. She figured he must keep to himself more than she did. Still, she found herself suddenly wishing her sink drain would back up so that she would have a reason to call maintenance.

  Viv finally called again on Saturday morning while Lillian was driving to the grocery store, her tone dejected. “Well, Lillian, I have news for you.”

  Lillian’s stomach dropped. She’d prepared herself for this, knowing that the job wasn’t a guarantee. But her job with the bakery and her love of the building crashed around her, and she realized how much she didn’t want to move. “It’s okay, Viv, I can handle it.”

  “Well, Lillian, I should say, ‘Congratulations, the job is yours, if you want it.”

  Lillian’s nerves pulsed with joy. “Really, Viv? Oh, that’s great news! Thank you. But, wait—why do you sound so disappointed?”

  Viv paused for a heartbeat. “That’s the good news, Lillian. The bad news is that they offered less for your monthly salary than we proposed.”

  “Oh. Well, how much less?”

  “About three hundred dollars less a month.”

  The silence stretched. Lillian could see the budget sheet in her mind, knowing that she’d worked the numbers every way possible and still barely came out on top. “I see. I don’t know how I can do that, Viv.”

  “I thought so. That’s why it’s taken so long to get back to you this week. I’ve been on the phone with the property managers trying to get more money in the offer. They say a raise would be just around the corner, but that since you have no experience in property management, this is their best offer for now.”

  Lillian eased off the accelerator and touched down gently on the brake as the cars in front of her slowed for the red light. “I understand Viv—”

  A terrible, howling screech abruptly cut short by a shatter of broken glass and crunching metal boomed behind her. Lillian’s head snapped forward, colliding with her airbag, then back against the headrest. Her cell phone flew away from her, landing on the floor of the car with a thud, and then all was quiet.

  What just happened?

  It took Lillian a moment to catch her bearings. The airbag deflated, though she was certain the burn she felt on her face and chest would last for a while. Lillian glanced through the windshield, her heart catching in her throat. Her Focus was pressed up against the small sedan in front of her, and she could see that her car had obliterated the sedan’s trunk. Which brought her windshield much closer to the yellow, diamond shaped “Baby on Board” sign suction cupped to the back window.

  Lillian watched a young, heavyset woman struggle out of the driver’s side door and tear open the back door to check on her babies. Lillian held her breath, watching the terrified mother. She could see small hands reaching frantically from their seats. She released her breath when the mother’s face relaxed slightly, and she grasped the small hands of her children, kissing them over and over reassuringly. Lillian let her head fall back against the seat.

  The woman, assured that her children were safe, stood and turned a glare toward Lillian. Wait, that wasn’t my fault, was it?

  Lillian replayed the last minute, frustrated with herself that she’d been on her cell phone. But I was watching the road, I was just about stopped and had plenty of room, I thought. The woman marched toward Lillian, and then right past her. Oh, duh. Someone pushed me into her.

  Lillian finally turned around and gulped. Her trunk and backseat were completely smashed in. A tiny voice rang out from beneath her, “Lillian! Lillian! Are you okay?”

  Lillian looked around for her phone, her head aching. She located the device on the floorboard beneath her feet and reached to retrieve it, wincing through the pinch in her neck. Her hand was shaking so violently she could barely hold the phone.

  “I’m here, Viv. I’ll have to call you back. I was just rear-ended.”

  “Oh, Lillian, no. Are you okay?” The concern in her voice was almost Lillian’s undoing.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Still holding the phone to her ear, she climbed out of the car on shaky legs, her heart racing as she took it all in. The back of her car was completely smashed in, as well as the front where she’d been launched into the sedan in front of her. Her Ford looked like a pop can that had been crunched up, and she couldn’t believe that it hadn’t been smashed completely.

  “Actually, Viv? Do you think you could come pick me up in a little while? I’m definitely going to need a ride.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lillian sat with Crystal, the driver of the car in front of her, and her two young sons, while the police took pictures of the scene, spoke with witnesses, and gave the truck driver a field sobriety test. Lillian felt anger boil inside her as she watched him wobble through the heel-to-toe test.

  Patrick, Crystal’s toddler, patted Lillian’s hand for more trail mix. She happened to have a bag in her purse and gladly offered the snack to Crystal and the toddler, wishing that she had something for the baby. The six-month-old seemed content with the pacifier his mother found and the women did their best to not let the children see their fear.

  They spoke in low tones to each other. “This is crazy,” Lillian murmured.

  “I heard one of them say he’s probably three times over the legal limit.”

  “It’s only ten in the morning!”

  “My husband is going to be furious! No one messes with his family.”

  The police finally came and took Lillian and Crystal in opposite directions to take their statements. As Lillian wrote hers out, using the hood of a police car as a desk, she felt herself becoming more fatigued. A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and she spun, expecting to see Viv or Dave there to rescue her. Instead a police officer stood behind her, his expression apologetic.

  “Miss, are you ready to be seen by the paramedics?” the officer gestured to the ambulance waiting behind the police car where the driver of the truck sat in the backseat. Lillian’s stomach dropped when she noticed the driver staring straight at her, his eyes—though mostly shuttered behind heavy lids—pleading an apology. The dejected pull of his countenance stirred her sympathy.

  She handed the pen and statement back to the officer, considering her options. Having the paramedics check her over wouldn’t be cheap. Now that she thought of it, her auto insurance would cover it…but realizing how helpless she was without health insurance rattled her. That was one benefit that Viv said the job didn’t offer. Not that it would have helped in this instance, but the collision seemed to have yanked all the tension Lillian had tried to cover up over the last few weeks right up to the surface. Panic crawled along her veins like acid—eroding away her barely taped together confidence.

  “Miss?” the officer prompted, pulling her from her thoughts.

  She felt her cheeks grow warm. “No thank you, Officer. I feel okay.” Nothing a nap and aspirin wouldn’t fix, anyway.

  He nodded and waved at the paramedics. They waved in return and loaded up before driving away.

  The sour sweet scent of booze wafted toward Lillian and the officer from the open window of the police car. Lillian held her breath and again made eye contact with the driver of the truck. His
bloodshot eyes could barely stay open enough to stay connected with hers. Instead of disgust and anger, Lillian felt compassion. She remembered how awful that split second was when she thought the accident had been her fault. How must this man be feeling?

  She softened her eyes at him and shrugged one shoulder, ignoring the pain in her neck. He nodded, features awash with shame. Lillian had the feeling this wasn’t his first DUI experience.

  “Lillian!”

  Her midsection quivered again for an entirely different reason. Pressing a hand to her stomach, the drunk driver all but forgotten, she turned to face the owner of that rich baritone.

  Chuck stood on the opposite side of the road, in front of a blue 1980 Chevy Silverado with a wide white band down the side. Once traffic was clear, he jogged toward her, his stormy blue eyes swinging in disbelief from the smashed Focus, already loaded onto the tow truck, and back to her. Concern pinched into a little vertical line between his eyebrows. Their gazes locked and lightning ignited in Lillian, tingling across her lips, her cheeks, and down her back. But that was probably just the whiplash, right?

  “What are you doing here?” Lillian asked when she was finally able.

  Chuck didn’t answer. Instead he shifted his eyes away from hers and shook the officer’s hand. “Hey, Tom. How’s it going?”

  “Just livin’ my dreams, man. How about yourself?”

  Chuck gave a pinched smile and leaned around Lillian to look toward the back of the police car.

  “It’s not him, man,” Tom said. Chuck’s shoulders relaxed considerably. He faced Tom, crossing his arms over his chest, and asked about the accident.

  Lillian watched the obvious friends with muddled curiosity, distracted by Chuck, and even more by her physical response to his presence. Obviously, Viv must have been unable to come and asked Chuck to give her a ride home. He was technically Viv’s employee, after all.

  Lillian’s head began to ache as she listened to the men talk. Tom was still describing the accident to Chuck when Lillian swayed and stumbled a step back into the hood of the police car. Both men reached out to grab her arms, one on each side.

  “You okay, Lillian?” Chuck’s eyes flickered to her feet and back again.

  Self-conscious, Lillian stood a little taller, her feet planted wider apart than before for balance. “I’m fine. Just a little shook up.”

  “Did paramedics check you out?” Chuck asked. Lillian tried to move her head in response, but sharp pain snaked across her shoulders and around her neck.

  Tom answered for her, “No, she didn’t want to be seen.”

  Chuck gently squeezed her arm and ran his fingers down to her elbow, tugging gently so she could lean on him. “You done with her, Tom?”

  “I sure am.”

  “Great. Why don’t you add to the report that her ride took her to the emergency room?”

  “Will do, Chuck.”

  Lillian protested, “I’m fine. I just haven’t eaten since breakfast with Nan this morning.”

  Chuck ignored her. He walked her across the street, arm still on her elbow, head swiveling back and forth to watch for traffic. The passenger door opened with a squeak and Chuck gently guided her inside. Lillian drew her legs up into the truck, still arguing, “Can you just take me home? All I need is lunch, aspirin, and a nap. Then I’ll be good as new.”

  Chuck slammed the door and jogged around the front before hopping in behind the wheel.

  “Chuck, really—”

  “Lillian, you were just in a serious car accident. You are going to see a doctor,” he said, starting the engine, his flat tone and the firm set of his mouth indicating that he was done listening to her. He pressed in the clutch and grabbed the tall stick shift.

  “But, Chuck…” Lillian had to raise her voice over the loud engine. She toyed with her necklace, waiting for him to at least glance in her direction. “I don’t have health insurance anymore. And I know that my auto insurance will cover it…eventually. But I don’t have any cash for the copay right now.”

  “Then make them bill you.” He shifted into first gear, glancing over his shoulder before merging into traffic.

  “No, I can’t—”

  “Lilly, I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to make this any clearer—you are going to the doctor.”

  Lillian crossed her arms, inexplicably irritated, and stared out the window as he eased the Chevy into traffic. The first stop light they came to, her entire body tensed, delivering more waves of pain through her sore back. She watched the side mirror, holding her breath until she was sure the car behind them came to a stop at a safe distance. The light turned green and they drove on in silence.

  After a few minutes, Lillian finally relaxed against the seat. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier until all she could think about was going to sleep. Chuck suddenly shook her arm violently making the pain in her neck and shoulders scream in protest.

  “Hey, hey, hey! Wake up, Lilly. Lillian!”

  “Ooowwww!” Lillian growled out, shoving Chuck off her arm. “Knock it off, Chuck! I’m tired.” She scooted closer to the window and draped her arm across the ledge to act as her pillow. Just as she lay her head down, he shook her again. His eyes darted to her, then back to the road, frantic.

  “No, Lilly. You can’t sleep yet. Just wait a few more minutes until we get to the doctor, got it?” Chuck’s voice sounded desperate.

  Lillian’s eyes remained closed. “I’m fine. I’m just going to rest my eyes until we get there.”

  “No. You need to stay awake.”

  Annoyance coursed through her. “What does it matter, Chuck? Back off.”

  “Lillian,” he spoke slowly, accentuating his words as if she were dimwitted, “I’m afraid you have a concussion. You need to just stay awake until we see the doctor, okay?”

  Her eyes snapped open, and she rolled them heavenward, then slanted a look in his direction. “I don’t have a concussion, Chuck.”

  “Really?” he asked. He gripped the steering wheel and lifted his fingers off one at a time, “Let’s see. You’re tired—”

  “I’ve been up since 4:00am.”

  “You’re dizzy—”

  “Because I was just rear ended, and I wasn’t expecting to see you.” Lillian blushed, hoping he didn’t read more into that and realize how his presence affected her.

  “I know I don’t know you that well, but you’re awfully snappy and cranky—”

  “Because you won’t let me sleep!” Lillian shook both clenched fists in the air in frustration. “Chuck, I caught my boyfriend cheating three months ago and moved out. Then he showed up at my work as my new boss, so I had to quit my job without a back-up plan. I couldn’t find another job, and so my savings is almost gone. I was finally offered the management position, but Viv says they can’t pay me what I need. While she was telling me that news, I was rear ended by a drunk driver. And now my car is totaled. I have no idea how I’m going to pay for this appointment that you’re forcing me to go to. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m sore, and I’m scared. Please. Back. Off.”

  The weeks of job searching, early mornings in the bakery, and fighting against the temptation to call Drew just to combat her loneliness—all of it—came pouring out of her.

  Lillian’s chest heaved with a sob, strangely liberated by her uncharacteristic outburst. The fire of freedom was immediately snuffed out when she realized who she’d just said all this to. She turned to face this virtual stranger as he guided his car into a parking space in a large lot surrounded by office buildings.

  “Here we are,” Chuck sang out, shifting into neutral.

  Lillian blinked at him. Had he heard her? “What?”

  “The hospital. We’re here.” Chuck pulled his keys from the ignition and hopped out of the car. He jogged around the front, his serious face giving her a shiver. Before Lillian could find the handle, the door swung open, and he helped her step down.

  They reached the door to the hospital—which Chuck insisted on opening
for her—and he turned his puppy grin on her. “Sorry for getting you riled up before. I just couldn’t let you fall asleep on me,” he said with an adorable wink.

  Lillian melted into a confused puddle right there on the pavement.

  Chapter Twelve

  The doctor ran Lillian through what he assured her were standard tests and x-rays after an accident. Once he was finished, he called Chuck back to the examination room. Lillian sat on the high table, the paper crinkling beneath her as she shifted. Thank goodness, they’d allowed her to stay dressed for the x-rays.

  “Slight concussion and whiplash,” the doctor confirmed, handing a stack of papers to Chuck. The doctor had asked for Lillian’s permission to share her medical information with her ride. “A concussion can make you forget things. It’s vital that you care for yourself properly in the following days,” he explained.

  Lillian blushed as the doctor relayed the information to Chuck.

  “I would like someone to be with her at least until tomorrow afternoon,” he pointed out, highlighting portions on the care sheet while Chuck nodded along.

  On the way out, Lillian was able to arrange for the office to bill her and left them her address.

  Chuck then drove to the store and left Lillian waiting in the truck while he ran inside for pain reliever. Next, he pulled into a long line at a drive-thru, insisting they grab lunch. Lillian took in the tattered white building with bubblegum pink and mint green trim. There were two drive-thru lanes on either side of the small structure, and a handful of tables arranged in the small area out front. Every one of them was full.

  “Where are we?” she asked, skeptical.

  “Don’t tell me you live downtown and have never eaten at Westside Drive-in?” he asked, incredulous.

  Lillian shrugged, looking down at her fidgety hands. “I guess I’ve never noticed it. Drew—my ex-boyfriend—was really health conscious. This definitely doesn’t look like his kind of place.”