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She entered the gas station which thankfully was air conditioned. An empty counter greeted her, but she loitered there anyway, taking a few minutes to cool off. A couple of vending machines hummed next to each other. Another door led to the garage. She poked her head through it. Country music wailed from an unseen radio.

“Hello?” she called. “Anybody home?”

She took a couple of tentative steps into the two-bay garage. A minivan sat elevated on a hydraulic lift in the first bay, its hood up and tires off.

She walked past it, looking for signs of life.

A pickup sat in the second bay, the front end jacked up. A pair of long legs covered in dark blue denim and work boots stuck out from under it.

A male voice sang along with the radio. Garth Brooks he wasn’t, but she’d heard worse.

“Hello?” she called. “Excuse me?”

The caterwauling continued. At this rate, she’d never get to Miami. She nudged the nearest ankle with her toe. This time she was rewarded with a loud clang and an even louder curse. The rack he’d been lying on slid out from under the truck.

“What the…?” His gaze locked with hers and Kay Lee felt a tremor go through her. He was dangerous-looking, with what appeared to be a two-day growth of beard, black hair almost to his shoulders and a dark scowl. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he had the kind of muscles she and other girls back home drooled over in the magazines, only his were covered by a snug, almost spotless white tee shirt.

“Sorry to disturb you, but—” Kay Lee began.

“What? Wait a minute.” In one swift movement he got up and Kay Lee had to take a step back from his imposing presence, even though he turned in the opposite direction. A second later the music snapped off and he came back tapping the wrench he held against his open palm. The scowl remained.

“Can I help you?”

Words almost failed her, but her goal never did. Miami or bust, she reminded herself. “My car won’t start,” she told him. Nervously she blew a bubble, sucked it back into her mouth and popped what was left of it.

“Fine. Let’s have a look.” He shepherded her out of the garage and paused to survey the empty gas pumps and surrounding area. A few other vehicles were lined up in a row along one edge of the property. He turned back to her. “Where is it?”

“It’s, uh, at the convenience store out near the interstate. I stopped to use the bathroom, and it wouldn’t start.” I stopped to use the bathroom? Too much information, Kay Lee.

“Then you’ll have to wait. I’ve got a brake job to finish on that truck and a tire rotation on the van.”

“Okay,” Kay Lee agreed as if she had some choice in the matter. So Miami would have to wait another hour or two. She’d been waiting her whole life to get out of Bertie Springs. She could wait a little while longer.

She followed him back into the garage. He repositioned himself on the rack and disappeared beneath the pickup once again. “I’m Kay Lee Walsh, by the way. You must be Rick, huh? I’m not one of those psychics like on TV or anything. The clerk at the convenience store told me your name. Rick Bradley? Is that right?”

“Braddock,” came the clipped reply.

“Oh. I knew it was something like that.” She leaned against the wall of the garage, although what she wanted to do was sit. Since she’d held out long enough to make an impression on Rick Braddock, she stepped out of her mules. The cool concrete felt heavenly on the soles of her feet. Her little toes were rubbed raw and ready to blister from her long walk. She blew her bangs off her forehead. The heat wasn’t so bad in here. A couple of fans set on high speed swiveled back and forth stirring the humid air.

“I hope it won’t take long to fix my car. I’m on my way to Miami. I’ve got a job at my cousin Tillie’s beauty salon there. Well, she’s not exactly my cousin, but we’re sort of like cousins, being that our mamas were like sisters, you know what I mean?”

Kay Lee blew another bubble and popped it, the sound echoing off the concrete block walls. “At Granny Daisy’s funeral, Tillie told me I could come work for her. I thought why should I stay in Bertie Springs? There’s nothing for me there. Well, there was Bobby Lou Tucker. He was real sweet on me. But I just couldn’t see spending the rest of my life in Bertie Springs with Bobby Lou. Eating dinner every Sunday with Bobby’s family. Plus, our kids would have to have Lou as their second name. It’s a Tucker tradition. Cindy Lou. Billy Lou. Donnie Lou.”

Kay Lee blew a series of small bubbles, punctuating each of them with a satisfying pop. She slid down to sit, propping her elbows on her knees. This way she could see some of the white tee shirt too. It was almost like having a conversation with a whole person.

“Lee’s not any better for a middle name,” she went on to her audience of one. “I’m not thrilled with the name Kay Lee. I always sort of wished my name was Kaylee, you know, all one word? It sounds more modern. When I get to Miami, I’m going to be Kaylee. In fact, I think I’ll start right now. With you. You can call me Kaylee, all right?”

In response, Kaylee heard a non-committal grunt.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you? Don’t you have anything to say?”

Rick Braddock scooted out from under the truck and fixed her with a dark penetrating look. He caught her right in the middle of blowing a big bubble.

“Yeah. I’ve got something to say. Do you ever stop talking?”