Categories
Dangerous Compassions

brave

Work today was okay. As Erik and I drove away afterward, I said, “It’s like it never happened.” One of the supervisors brought in a rhubarb pie he baked for us last night, and ice cream too, and both were a delicious treat. I got to talk a little with the woman who gave me her haiku zine last time. She and I have things in common.

The mechanic called today. He said he didn’t know Erik was coming, Tuesday morning. I guess he forgot, or what I considered a plan he considered only a possibility. At any rate, it took him three days to call me back. I don’t know how to feel. He said he would do it, to call when we’re ready, but the truck has another car parked right in front of it, almost touching the bumper, and it would be really awkward to double park then try to get in there with jumper cables. So I’m hoping that car will move.

Erik says we should just wait and do it next week. We have next week off. I would rather do it sooner than later. The only problem with his “call me and I’ll be there in five minutes” plan is that he doesn’t answer his phone. So if we get the truck jumped and we’re ready to go over there, and I call, he probably won’t pick up. Sometimes I wish we had a regular mechanic with regular hours who is always there during regular hours and keeps appointments.

It’s a confusing situation because we originally got this mechanic because he’s the son of my friend A who lives here in town, but since then, my friend and her son have become estranged. So Erik and I wonder if he wishes we would get lost.

Tomorrow we’re going on a trip to the bay area to see relatives: I will get to visit my nieces and nephew and maybe see my brother. And I’ll for sure see my parents, who are paying for our hotel room. I haven’t stayed at a hotel since going to Atascadero with my friend P maybe a year ago. I love my young relatives and need to spend time with them before they move away next month. But being around little kids stresses me out, so I need to be very brave.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *