4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Clara

Sitting in traffic on my way home, I cursed Luca's name.

His visit had thrown me off track the rest of the day. I'd been late picking Nellie up from day care, and that meant she was starving for dinner and our time together had been cut by a half hour. It might not have sounded like a lot, but our hours were already so limited thirty minutes was precious to me.

It also meant once she was in bed, I'd be in my home office finishing the tasks I'd left undone instead of vegging out on the couch with a glass of wine and a smutty romance novel.

I relied on those books and an hour or two of laziness to get me through the week.

Damn Luca and his distinct ability to lure me into long conversations. He was too good at saying the exact thing I needed to hear to be distracted.

"I'm hungry, Mommy."

I glanced at Nellie through the rearview mirror. "I know, honey. I'm trying to get us home as quickly as I can. What would you like for dinner?"

"Noodles." She kicked her feet to punctuate her excitement for this particular food, which made up at least fifty percent of her diet.

"You had noodles last night. Let's think of something else."

Her little brow furrowed in consternation. "But I want noodles. Marina can make them."

"Marina's off the clock. Mommy can make you dinner."

She mumbled something that sounded a lot like, "Not as good as Marina." While it was objectively true, it still smarted. Jeez, kid. Take that knife out of my back.

I drummed on the steering wheel, ignoring the growling in my own stomach. That smoothie I'd sucked down for lunch hadn't done the trick. I'd have to make myself a double helping of noodles tonight.

Tomorrow, when we weren't running late, I'd fight for variety in Nellie's diet. Tonight, I—

"Mommy, the lights are flashing." Nellie twisted around in her car seat, trying to look out the back. "They're blue and red. So pretty, Mommy."

I checked my rearview mirror, already knowing what I'd find. That didn't stop the wave of dread from sweeping through my empty stomach when I confirmed it.

"Oh shit."

Those pretty lights belonged to the police car right behind me. I knew I hadn't driven over the speed limit—and not because I was a stickler for the rules. This damn traffic wouldn't allow it.

I couldn't think of anything I'd done wrong, but the cop was on my ass, not giving up.

Fortunately, I was able to pull into a shopping center parking lot. I didn't want to be the cause of traffic becoming any more dismal.

"The lights are coming with us," Nellie singsonged.

"They are. Mommy has to talk to the policeman for a minute, then we can go home for noodles."

I rolled my window down, keeping my fingers crossed this would be quick. Nellie was being as patient as any three-year-old could be, but I knew my daughter. We were reaching the end of her sweet little rope.

The officer bent down, sweeping a serious gaze over me then back at Nellie.

"Hi!" she burst out. "I'm going home to have noodles. I like your lights."

His no-nonsense facade broke. Lowering his mirrored sunglasses, he chuckled. "Thanks for that, little miss." Then he brought his attention back to me. "Are you aware both your brake lights are out?"

My mouth fell open. "No. What? Both? Isn't that—no, I wasn't aware." I hit the heel of my hand against my forehead. Another task to add to the list. I couldn't help thinking if I had a husband, he would have been on top of this. Well…not Miller. He wasn't much of a car guy. But if he'd been around, I might have had the bandwidth to pay attention to things like brake lights, oil changes… "Shit. I'll have to get that fixed."

"As soon as possible." He shook his head. "I can't let you drive home like this. It's not safe."

"Not drive home…? What do you mean?"

"You'll have to get the lights replaced before driving anywhere."

I hadn't cried since Nellie was born. It took a lot for me to become tearful. But this drive, my yearning for home, the gnawing hunger in my gut—I was so close.

"I just need to get home," I pleaded weakly.

With a sigh, he cocked his head to the side. "You're lucky you pulled over where you did. There's a Motor Zone on the other side of the shopping center. Go in there, buy new lights, and someone should be able to help you pop them in." He patted my door. "I'll follow you over there to be safe."

And to probably make sure I didn't drive away like I really, really wanted. Obviously, I wouldn't have, but maybe…

"Thank you, Officer," I murmured.

"I want the lights," Nellie announced, blissfully unaware her mother was about to crack.

"You got it, baby doll," he drawled before sauntering back to his car.

He gave us the full police escort treatment across the parking lot, lights flashing, siren booping. And while I wanted to melt into my seat, it tickled Nellie to death. I hadn't done anything wrong, and his presence behind me made me feel guilty and deeply embarrassed—especially with all the lookie-loos stopping to watch.

Thankfully, once I parked, he drove away. I exhaled a shaky breath.

"Why are we here, Mommy?"

I turned to smile at her. "We have to run into this store for a minute. My lights aren't working, so we have to fix them."

She tilted her head. "Do you know how to fix lights?"

I rounded my eyes and puffed up my cheeks. "No idea. I was hoping you would do it. You know how, right?"

"No," she squealed. "I'm only three!"

I snapped my fingers. "Oh, that's right. I forgot you aren't a car expert. Well, let's hope someone inside knows more about cars than us, right?"

"Right!"

I got myself and Nellie out of the car, handing her a granola bar from my emergency stash as we walked in. I hated giving her snacks so close to dinnertime, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Inside the door of Motor Zone, I came to a standstill. I had never stepped foot inside one of these shops, and I was immediately overwhelmed. Considering it was bright and organized, with rows upon rows of supplies to maintain and repair vehicles, it wasn't any fault of the shop's. There was just so much ; finding two little brake lights was like a needle in a haystack.

Fortunately, a young Black man in mechanic's overalls tied at his waist and a nametag reading "Dante" clipped to his shirt approached us with a friendly smile.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"I hope so."

"The policeman talked to Mommy," Nellie informed him. "He had pretty lights."

Dante shot me a polite smile. "Let me guess, do you have a light out?"

I nodded. "Both brake lights."

He hissed. "That's not safe. It's a good thing you came in. Let me see if I can help you find your lights."

He led us to the opposite side of the store, walking down a row with what seemed like thousands of different lights. Undaunted by the intense variety, he homed in on the ones I needed.

"Here you go, ma'am." He pressed the small boxes into my hand.

His arm braced on the shelf beside him, waiting while I studied one of the boxes. Nellie nibbled on her granola bar, dancing from foot to foot.

"Are you hungry?" she asked him.

He pressed his hand to his stomach. "Yeah, I could eat. That granola bar looks good."

"You want some?" She waved her snack at him like we hadn't all witnessed her sucking and drooling on it the last five minutes.

"That's okay, you eat it. I have a burrito calling my name at home."

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Dante."

She nodded. "Your burrito is saying, ‘Daaanteee! Time for dinner!'"

He cackled, and I lost track of what I was doing from the overpowering need to squeeze my daughter's body into my side. Her sense of humor had definitely come from Luca. Her precociousness too. Luca had emerged into the world winking at the nurses…or so our mother had said.

Finally, I found what I was looking for, confirming they were the right lights, and Dante escorted us to the cashier.

"If there's anything else I can do…" he said, making the offer as he started to walk away.

I glanced at the lights on the counter, and he stopped. I must have looked helpless. "It might come as a surprise to you, but I'm not well versed in installing brake lights. Would you be able to help me? Or someone else?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time.

"Any other night, I would, but I'm about to clock out, and I have plans." He glanced from me to Nellie, then back. "But lemme go check in the garage. I'm sure there's someone who can do it. It won't take long."

I pressed my hands together. "Thank you so much, Dante. You've been a huge help. If your manager's around, let me speak to him or her about giving you a raise. You deserve it."

He shuffled his boots, offering me a sheepish grin. "Thanks, ma'am. Just doin' my job." He jerked his head toward the direction of the garage attached to the store. "I'll send someone out to you."

Nellie waved to him. "I hope you like your burrito, Dante."

If my flattery hadn't been enough to get Dante moving, Nellie's cuteness had done the trick. At this point, I didn't care who fixed my brake lights. I just wanted it done quickly so I could get home, pour myself an oversized glass of wine, and kick off these heels.