Christmas sucks.
When Emily Shepherd's boss boyfriend cheats on her with her best friend, she loses everything in one night-love, friendships, job, and home. In a weird fit of desperation (or some deep-rooted need to punish herself even more) she m...
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The police car pulled up to the curb at an angle, red and blue lightbar competing with all the twinkling greens and reds in the neighborhood. And then that big flashlight on the side of the car flipped on and hit her. She stood in the spotlight, dripping, soaked, muddy, and cold. Someone got out of the passenger side and approached her. She put her hand up over her brow—instantly aware that she had just put even more mud on her face—to block the light so she could see.
"Everything okay?" The officer slowed as he got closer.
Emily flicked a glance to the house next door. The front door was open now and an old man and woman stood in their bathrobes, watching.
"What do you think?" She waved a hand at herself. "You think I go out in the rain and roll around in the mud in the middle of the night just for kicks? Hey, maybe I'll wake up the neighbors so they can come out too? That would be fun, right?"
The officer turned back to the car and made a motion with his hand. The spotlight went out.
"Everything okay?" he asked again.
She sighed and a sob caught in her throat. "No. No, it's not, Officer. I'm locked out of my stupid house without a stupid key, and I don't have my stupid phone to call my stupid landlord to come open the stupid door."
He stared at her a moment. He was her father's age, from the look of all that grey in his mustache. He had that dad look about him, too—the look where you're not sure whether you're going to get yelled at or hugged. Then he pulled out his phone and looked at her. "What's your stupid landlord's stupid number?"
She snorted a laugh and a sob at the same time, sure that by now she looked so insane a little snot bubble laughter was not going to affect anybody's opinion of her. "I don't know."
He looked up at her, his thumb still poised over the screen to dial. "How about his stupid name?"
"Leo Kendrick," she laughed/snorted/sobbed.
Dadcop nodded and dialed information. As he gave the operator the name, he motioned her to head to the car. He opened the back door and indicated she should get in. The other officer watched her from the rear-view mirror.
Sitting in the backseat, separated from the free world by a metal mesh screen, she was suddenly clear-headed. "Am I under arrest?"
The eyes in the mirror were amused now. He leaned forward a little and touched the screen on the dashboard. Warm air rushed out of the vent in the console. "No. You're under the heater."
Emily leaned forward and put her hands out in the heat. "Oh my God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, sir."
The passenger door opened and Dadcop got in. He turned in the seat a little to face her. "He's on his way to let you in. You warm enough back there?"
"Oh, I'll probably never be warm again." Now that she was starting to warm up a little, her teeth were chattering, and she was shivering pretty violently. "But thank you."
