Full Circle Ch. 03: Finding Help

Full Circle - Searching for Help (Ch.3)

soppingwetpanties

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Chapter Three

Searching for Help

Elaine checked her phone, which showed no service. The battery indicator was red. Walking away from her disabled Tesla on a dark country road, she made a kicking motion into the cold night air to vent her frustration. What more could go wrong? According to her workout app, she'd walked exactly a mile. She was hoping to see the gas station she remembered was on this stretch of lonely expanse of thick woods but all she'd seen were a family of rabbits, two deer, and what she could swear were the glowing eyes of a coyote. She wanted to live in the country so here it was.

Elaine was almost a comical sight wearing an indecently short red designer cocktail dress and battered sneakers that were about to fall apart. Her bare shoulders were unprotected from the biting wind because Elaine, in her haste to get away from her country estate and the break-up she'd just finished with her three-year girlfriend, forgot to bring the jacket she'd carefully set aside for her drive to New York City. Elaine's wispy blonde hair was a jumbled mess and her make-up had smeared down her cheeks. She wasn't the epitome of elegance of elegance and sophistication she was just a few hours earlier at her 50^th birthday gala at her magnificent 160-acre Somerset County estate. She was just Elaine. Cold, tired and now ravenously hungry Elaine.

There was no sign of the gas station she remembered and with each step Elaine doubts about her decision to go in the direction of the gas station instead of towards home increased. Her arms and legs had gone numb from the stiff breeze. The sole of her left shoe had now fully separated in the front, so she had to walk awkwardly so she wouldn't trip. It was almost pitch black and the dense forest was only a few feet back from the dirt shoulder of the road. Her hopes flagged with each step.

It was without a doubt the suckiest day of her adult life.

Elaine was also becoming more fearful the farther she strayed from the safety of her Tesla. She was more than twenty minutes into her walk and she hadn't seen a single car. She didn't have any food or water and in a short time that wouldn't matter because she would have frozen to death. But giving up never entered her mind. She continued to put one foot in front of the other, telling herself that everything would work out.

Elaine's thighs and calves ached from her awkward gait and her feet were starting to scream in pain. Finally, in the distance, she saw the dull glow of the streetlight she remembered marked the location of the service station. Her heart leapt knowing she might be able to get some shelter as well as access to a working phone. She walked briskly, trying not to trip, and ignoring the pain from the blisters that formed where her shoes rubbed against the back of her heels. Her face dropped when she saw the station was closed. The lights above the pumps were dark, as were the lights inside of the station.

The station was built in the 50's, and still maintained most of its original architecture. It had a small office and two service bays adjacent to it. The roll up glass paneled doors were in the down position. With the faint light from the streetlight Elaine pressed her face against one of the bay doors noticing there was a car up on one of the lifts. She recognized it as an older model Ferrari. She walked past the service bays and around the corner of the building to the back. There was a pockmarked asphalt driveway leading to a parking lot filled with cars in various states of repair and beyond that a log cabin and a dock leading to White Feather Lake.

It was a small lake surrounded by rustic log cabins like the one located next to the dock. The cabin was dark but there was light leaking out from a door to a shop adjacent to the cabin. The shop was about the size of Elaine's six-car garage but made out of corrugated sheet metal walls that long ago had rusted to a pleasing shade of bronze. Elaine walked closer, careful not to trip in one of the potholes, and could hear Jon Bon Jovi singing "Livin' on a Prayer," and a strong female voice, pretty much in key, belting out the words with him. Elaine got to the shop's large sliding door and knocked, knowing it probably wouldn't be heard. She waited for a few seconds and then pounded on the door with her fist.

"Just a minute!" a female voice on the inside shouted out. The music was silenced and Elaine heard only the waves from the lake slapping against the pillars holding up the dock.

Elaine stood at the door, arms folded across her chest and shivering. The corrugated metal clad door slid open and bright light flooded out into the darkness. A tall dark haired woman wearing bib overalls with nothing on underneath answered the door. Her face was smeared with black grease and her long straight hair was pulled back and covered with a Harley-Davidson bandana. She was young and stunningly beautiful. Her dark, smoky eyes apprised her late-night visitor standing there in her skimpy red cocktail dress.

"Hey pretty lady. Are you lost?" she asked in sultry voice, not able to resist poking her unexpected visitor.

"Kind of," said Elaine, her teeth chattering.

"Where are my manners? Come in this instant," the woman said, pulling Elaine into the shop.

Elaine felt a welcome warmth as she stepped in, greeted by a strange mixture of smells - - gasoline, car exhaust, strong coffee and stale cigarettes. She noticed the inside was neat, with Snap-On logoed rolling tool chests on top of an epoxied floor and well-lit workbenches lining the two side walls. Her eyes travelled to the rear wall, where there was a small kitchen area with a mini refrigerator that had an ancient coffee maker and small microwave on top of it.

The woman wiped off her right hand with a rag and extended it to Elaine, who shook it. The woman's hand was warm. Elaine's was freezing.

"Sylvia . . . Sylvia Bianchi, but my friends call me Syl. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

"Elaine . . . Elaine Harris. My friends call me Elaine, and the pleasure is mine."

Elaine was reticent to let go of Sylvia's hand, being both soft and warm, although she did let go.

"So Elaine Harris, how can I be of service to you?"

"A landline would be amazing. I can't get any cell service here. My car's about a mile from here and kind of a wreck."

"I think better with a cup of coffee in my hand and I think you need one to warm up."

Syl went over to the coffee machine and poured each of them a fresh mug. Elaine wrapped her hands around the warm mug.

"Ummm," said Elaine. "I can't thank you enough Syl." She took the first inviting sip and felt the hot liquid warm her belly.

"You drink your coffee and wait here," said Syl. She went over to a set of lockers in the corner of the building and opened one of the locker doors. She pulled out a worn and scuffed brown leather jacket and brought it over to Elaine.

"Turn around," she said to Elaine. Elaine turned her back. Syl looked at the flawless skin revealed by the deep cut in Elaine's dress and then draped the heavy jacket over Elaine's shoulders.

"It's my motorcycle riding jacket. It's old but the warmest thing I've got."

Syl's hands rested on Elaine's shoulder for a moment before Elaine turned back around.

"What do you think?" Elaine asked as she assumed a model's pose with her hand on her hip.

Syl put her finger to her chin. "Very sexy, but in a weird way. The sneakers don't really work with your dress."

Elaine looked down at her ratty shoes.

"It's an embarrassing story."

"I'll tell you what, why don't I set you up with a phone so you can make your call and I'll finish up here? We may have some time after that for you to tell me that story."

Then Syl stopped as a thought jarred loose in her head.

"Do you own a Maybach?" she asked out of the blue.

Elaine was shocked by the woman's question. How did she know?

"Why yes I do," Elaine answered.

"I know Geraldo. I've worked on your car at your place."

Elaine's eyes lit up. "You know Geraldo?"

"Sure. I like him."

"So do I."

"You have a nice spread . . . at least what I saw of it the few times I was there. I think I saw you in the distance once."

So Sylvia did know me, Elaine thought. She wondered what Geraldo had told her, though she shouldn't have worried. Geraldo was the master of discretion and hadn't betrayed any confidences. Syl only knew that Elaine was beautiful, wealthy and single and nothing more.

"I just wanted to thank you again," said Elaine. "I know this is a terrible imposition this late at night."

Syl smiled back. "It's no problem. I run the local service station and auto repair so I get all kinds of urgent requests. Your ask is one of the easy ones."

Elaine was looking at Syl's eyes as she spoke, comparing them to Rae's, both women having dark eyes and hair. Elaine wondered why, just hours after seeing Rae leave forever, she has a chance encounter with another beautiful woman.

"Focus Elaine," she told herself. Getting distracted by an attractive young woman wasn't helpful to her plight.

Sylvia seemed oblivious to Elaine's internal conflict. She kept talking. "Let me take you to the office."

Elaine followed Sylvia outside, guided by the streetlight in front of the station. Elaine could see her breath as she walked. The heavy leather jacket felt good on her, and the cold didn't seem so foreboding in Syl's company. Elaine could smell Syl's scent from the jacket and admired her lanky gait as she followed to the office door.

Sylvia unlocked the rickety glass half panel door, with "White Feather Pump-N-Go" painted in faded white letters. The windowpane rattled when she jerked open the balky door.

"Meaning to fix that," she said, ushering Elaine into a small office with a desk piled with yellowed papers and surrounded by stacks of dog-eared shop manuals. Elaine spotted the old-fashioned push-button phone on the desk behind a jumbo-sized fast-food paper cup.

"Excuse the mess," Sylvia said, brushing aside the cup and a half-eaten candy bar sticking out from its shiny silver wrapper.

Sylvia turned to leave but Elaine grabbed her by the wrist. Sylvia stopped immediately and her dark brown eyes softened as she looked back at Elaine. Elaine felt that familiar twinge between her legs that she couldn't suppress.

Ridiculous, Elaine told herself. Syl looks to be half my age. Like Rae. Haven't you learned your lesson? Keep your head on straight, she chided herself.

Elaine released her light grip on Sylvia's wrist. "I wanted to tell you again how much I appreciate your help."

Sylvia put her hand over Elaine's. "Believe me. It's no problem. I'm happy to help you. Really."

Sylvia looked at Elaine's flawless porcelain skin and then her own greasy hands. She took a clean rag out of a cardboard dispenser box and wiped her hands first, then the smudges on her cheeks. Elaine wet the tip of her finger and then leaned over to take a bit of grease off Sylvia's cheek that she'd missed. Her fingertip lingered for perhaps a beat too long.

"I must look like I was in a hurricane," Sylvia said, no doubt realizing how grubby she looked.

"Don't give it another thought," said Elaine. She thought Sylvia looked sexy with or without the grease spots.

"You make your call. I'm a night owl anyway. I'm going to get cleaned up while you make your phone call."

Elaine watched Syl's hips sway as she walked back towards the cabin. As the outside and then the inside lights of the cabin switched on Elaine wondered if her life was going to change yet again.

* * *

"What?" Elaine asked incredulously.

The woman answering the Tesla road service number repeated her answer.

Elaine's mind reeled. "10 a.m.? That's the best you can do? I've got important meetings in New York City starting at 8 a.m. I need to be on the road by 7." Elaine knew none of what she said would matter but had to say it anyway to make her feel better about how fucked up things were about to get.

The customer service rep was sympathetic, but of course in no position to help Elaine. Elaine's call was routed to Tesla's Sunnyvale call center, and the young woman was just reading the service vehicle's availability off her computer screen. The repair van was being dispatched from a service center 60 miles away.

"OK," Elaine said glumly, resigned to having her Monday destroyed by her flat tire. "I've given you my address. I'll expect to see your service vehicle by 10."

Elaine hung up the phone. Her next call was to personal assistant Vic and her mind was focused on how to rearrange her schedule. Vic answered the call on the fourth ring, awakened from a deep sleep.

"This better be good," she answered, noticing it was after 1 a.m. Her caller ID was coming up with a number she didn't recognize. She was ready to hang up, thinking it was a solicitation or a prank call.

"It's me, Elaine," Elaine blurted out.

There was a short pause while Vic processed this information. Why was Elaine calling from a phone that wasn't hers at 1 a.m.?

"Elaine? Where are you calling from?"

"From a landline at White Feather Lake. You know, where . . ."

"I know where it is. What happened? Are you OK?"

"I clipped a deer. Spun out and got a flat. Tesla service is supposed to come here at 10 a.m. tomorrow. I'm fine, just a bit cold and tired. I had to walk maybe a mile or so."

"Don't tell me you were wearing your cocktail dress."

"I was."

"Shit."

"Yeah, and I forgot to bring a jacket."

"Oh Elaine . . ."

There was a pause on the line before Vic continued. "So is Geraldo going to go back to pick you up?"

"No can do. He dropped Rae off in the City and went on to Philly to see his nephew."

"How about I call you a car service?"

Elaine thought for a moment. "No. I have to take care of my car before I go back to the City."

"I could drive out early and let you have my car. I'll take care of yours so you can make your 8 a.m."

Elaine was gratified by Vic's offer. But something told her it was kismet that she ended up in White Feather and meeting Sylvia. Besides, it was going way above and beyond the call of duty for Vic to leave the comfort of her bed to make an hour drive at 1 a.m., and where would Vic stay while she was waiting for Tesla service to arrive?

"No. No. I don't want to do that to you. Just reschedule my meetings to Tuesday. You can schedule the brokers at 10 a.m. and cancel my masseuse."

"The brokers are going to be pissed . . ."

"Fuck them. It wasn't like I got a flat tire on purpose."

"Right. I just hope they don't kill the messenger," Vic lamented. "So where are you going to stay tonight?"

"I'll figure it out."

Actually Elaine hadn't given it any thought until Vic mentioned it. She figured, unconsciously, that she'd ask Syl if she could spend the night.

"Well OK, I'll tell everyone that tomorrow is postponed and I'll see if I can reset the meetings to Tuesday. What did you want me to tell Julia about lunch? Reschedule?"

"We'll have to. Damn it." Elaine knew that Julia would be pissed. They had traded texts for two months before they found an acceptable date. Cancelling the last minute, though justified, would not be well received.

"I'm glad you're OK. I'll take care of everything."

"You're a gem Vic."

"Just remember it when you're figuring out my next raise."

Elaine hung up the phone and took another sip from her coffee cup, thinking she might be up all night, but ignored the consequences as the hot coffee cut through the chill she was feeling. She took off her shoes and cleared some papers to the side so she could put her feet up on the desk. She was enjoying the last bit of her coffee when Sylvia returned, dressed in fresh clothes and scrubbed clean. She was wearing a tight-fitting t-shirt with no bra under an unzipped pink hoodie and blue jeans with rips on the knees. She couldn't help but look sexy.

"All set then?" she asked optimistically.

"Not good news," Elaine replied, though she didn't feel bad saying it.

"How bad?"

"Service truck won't be here till 10 a.m. They'll pick me up here and take me to my car. That's the best they can do."

"That's not good."

"You wouldn't happen to know someplace I could stay?" Elaine asked, hoping it would be at Sylvia's. It was as if she was consciously tempting fate.

"Not at this hour. Why don't you just stay in my cabin? I've got a pullout sofa that I can use. You can sleep on the bed."

"I'm not going to sleep in your bed. It's yours," Elaine insisted.

"Nonsense. Elaine, I can see that you're dog tired and sore. Take a shower. I've got some clothes you can borrow. Just say thank you."

"Thank you Syl."

* * *

Elaine followed Sylvia on the short walk to her cabin. She'd seen too many movies about this exact situation. Woman in distress meets beautiful savior. She told herself this wasn't destined to be so simple.

The lights were already on when Syl opened the door. It was small, rustic and cozy. There was an efficiency kitchen in one corner of the single room, a kitchen table and a bed and sofa. The kitchen table had a worn, washed-out red Formica top. The four-burner gas stove sat next to a noisy full-size refrigerator. There was a Mr. Coffee on the countertop and the pot was full.

"I figured you might be staying here. I put on a pot in case you did."

Syl went over to an upper kitchen cabinet to retrieve two mugs. She poured coffee in each. Elaine glanced at a framed picture sitting on a side table next to the sofa. It was Syl with her arm around an attractive short, curvy redhead. They were standing in hip waders in a shallow, rocky river.

"Here," said Syl, "it's decaf," giving Elaine a fresh cup. Elaine sat down and took the cup, watching Syl sit down with her own.

Elaine looked at herself, realizing she looked ridiculous in a fancy evening dress covered by a heavy leather motorcycle jacket.

"I'm sure you're wondering how I got here."

Syl chuckled. "I kind of wondered . . ."

Elaine took a sip of her hot coffee. The bright lights of the kitchen area and the shot of caffeine energized her.

"It's a long story."

Syl settled back in her chair. "I've got all night."

Elaine told her about her lavish 50^th birthday party (leaving out some of the details, like the caviar bar), Rae and the break-up (and why they broke up, which Elaine attributed primarily to their twenty-year age difference) and her forgetfulness after Rae's emotional departure, hence the lack of a jacket. She told Syl about the deer, the flat tire and the lack of cell phone reception, the culmination of her night of heartbreak, absentmindedness and just plain bad luck.

"You must have thought the world was conspiring against you," Syl said.

"Conspiring? It felt like an outright rebellion. I was fit to be tied, and it was freezing outside. Thank God I found you."

"It all sounds like a humbling experience."

Elaine's eyes became thoughtful. "Maybe I needed it. I feel like I'm out in front of my skis right now and need to reassess what I want and where I'm going."

Elaine wanted to ask Syl about the picture and her relationship with the woman in the picture but thought it rude to ask such a personal question at the outset. She decided to go to safer ground.

"I see you have a vintage Ferrari on a lift in the garage, and what was that, a 1967 GTO in your shop?"