Jack Who? (Book 1 Draft Version)

PART TWO~CHAPTER : 10

♪♫••═════ PART TWO~CHAPTER : 10  ═════••♬ ♭

 Fortunately, there were no injuries, other than my pride and my stinging face from the impact of the airbag. Until today, I had never wrecked. I had been in a minor scrape with Olivia driving, and I had once backed into Kel's four-wheeler. So, the grim experience of accident reports, a citation, wreckers, and other details was new.

We were given a ride to the tow shop where we waited for the rental car that Randi's incredibly competent insurance company was sending over.

In the restroom, we took off our shirts, shaking out the airbag's white powder before putting them back on. Wetting paper towels, we shared a tiny cracked mirror over the sink and began to clean the residue from our faces and skin.

Randi stepped back to allow me to lean in, and made a joke. “Lucky you to not have sunglasses on.”

I tossed my third used towel to the already overflowing trash, and moved to shake powder from Randi's hair. In doing so, I got a closer view of red skid marks down Randi's nose caused by the airbag colliding with sunglasses.

“It's not something a little makeup won't cover.” Randi winked. I marveled that Randi could remain so carefree through this ordeal.

I had apologized several times over and still felt terrible. “I'm so sorry. I'm really not a bad driver. I just—I wouldn't have even driven your car if it hadn't been for the wine...”

“The wine?”

Mortified at bringing up the other woman's inebriated state before the shock of the collision must have surely sobered her, I gulped and picked at my freshly manicured nails.

“Did you think I was drunk?” Randi's inquiry rode on a voice laden with surprise.

Keeping my eyes on my fingers, I shifted a foot, tracing a line in the tile floor.

“Is that why you wanted to drive?!” Bursting into a high pitched laugh, Randi rocked back on her heels, and my gaze finally riveted to her face.

“You fell off the curb.” I defended my assumption. With my own eyes, I had seen Randi down six to eight glasses of wine between the boutique and the salon.

“Yes, I fell,” Randi stressed the verb. Then, to my chagrin, Randi set me straight as we traversed from the restroom back to the main area of the building. “The only wine I drank was at the dress shop. The salon serves sparkling cider. Well, they serve wine too, but I had the cider. It's fresh from a vineyard around here. So yummy, and so good for your complexion--that's why I was trying to force some on you. You didn't have any because you thought it was wine?!”

“You think I need something for my complexion?!”

Randi's expression relaxed from incredulous mirth to sympathy and her reply was gentle. “You have a chalky kind of thing going on. A lot of stress is what I'm guessing. But my stylist can make it go away.”

“Flight reservations back to Mississippi?” Unable to stop myself , I made the mutter.

“Huh?”

Wryly, I explained, “Just a joke.”

Randi didn't laugh. “You are going to do fine out here. California is an easy place to love. And Jack. I have never seen him so happy. He will make sure you fall in love with this new life.”

Suddenly, embarrassed that I had made this type of confession, even in jest, to this woman, and that it had progressed to this level, I turned away focusing on some type of palm plant.