“Come here, you.” Lifting her into my lap, I smother her face with kisses, and her giggles fill the air around us. “You are my favorite,” I tell her, hugging her tightly. “All right, Little Miss. Let’s get your butt changed and pack up the diaper bag, or we’re going to be eating the stale cereal in the cabinet this week.”
Standing, I carry her back to her room, change her, and place her in her crib to keep her contained while I pack the diaper bag. I always overpack because with a baby, you never know what you’ll need. Too many times, we’ve had diaper explosions, and the extra clothes have been a lifesaver. I’m a planner, and I’d rather carry an overstuffed bag than be out and about without what I need on hand to handle whatever situation arises. I might be different if I had a partner in this, but there is no one to call. It’s all on me. Sure, I could call Bellamy or one of the girls, but that’s different. Mia is my responsibility.
“All right, sister, let’s get moving.” Mia’s standing in her crib, bouncing on her legs. I lift her into my arms, and we head to the garage.
After the divorce, I was able to secure a lease for this two-story, two-bedroom, one-car-garage condo. It’s tiny, but it’s ours, and that’s all that matters. Once Mia is strapped into her car seat, toys and binky in place, we hit the road.
Going to the grocery store with a baby is an adventure. She gets restless and wants out of the cart, so I end up carrying her with one arm and pushing the cart with the other. It’s exhausting, and by the time I have Mia loaded into the car, she’s fussy, but I still need to get the groceries loaded.
“Give me five minutes, sweetie,” I tell her, but she’s not having it. She begins to cry, and I know it’s because she’s tired. It’s her naptime, which usually works out great for us, but the store was crowded today, and the cashier who checked us out was training, so it took double the time. It’s not her fault, we all have to learn, but Miss Mia’s not impressed.
Once I get the groceries in the back of my SUV, I slide into the back seat, hit the door locks, and get to work making her a bottle. That’s something else that I’ve learned about motherhood. The best-laid plans can be derailed at any moment. So, instead of heading home, I sit in the back seat, with my daughter in her car seat next to me, feeding her a bottle. Sure, I could have just handed it to her and driven home, but what if she drops it or chokes? It’s not worth it. Besides, we have nowhere to be. Thankfully, it’s April in Tennessee, so it’s not too hot, and we don’t live too far away. The groceries will be fine until Little Miss gets her belly full.
Mia finishes her bottle and falls sound asleep. Quietly, I put the bottle back into her bag, slip out of the back seat, into the driver’s seat, and we’re headed home. We live about twenty minutes away from this store. They have a better baby food section, and besides, twenty minutes isn’t that far, and what else do I have to do? This is an adventure out of the house for my girl and me.
I’m just about five miles from the store when I know something’s wrong. The lights dim, and then it’s just like the car loses power. Quickly glancing in my rearview mirror, I see that it’s clear, so I pull over to the side of the road. I barely make it before everything goes black. Tears prick my eyes because it’s always something. Can the universe not take it easy on me?
I turn off the key and try again, but everything is dead. With a heavy sigh, I lean my forehead against the steering wheel, which I’m also gripping with both fists, and fight the urge to scream. I can’t do that and risk waking my daughter. Instead, I focus on slowing my breathing and getting my emotions under control before lifting my head, digging my phone out of my purse, and calling Bellamy. I hate to rely on her and Reid, but what else can I do? I have no one else to call—well, outside of any of the other girls and their husbands—but Bellamy is my bestie, and even if she can’t help, she can talk me off the ledge, because I feel like I’m about to break down. It’s moments like these where I feel the loneliest.
“Hey, you,” Bellamy greets me.
“Hey,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Manda? What’s wrong?” Concern laces her tone.
“My car broke down.”
“Where are you? Are you safe? Is Mia with you?” she fires off questions.
“I’m just about five miles outside of Jessup’s Market, headed home. Yes, we’re safe. I was able to guide us to the side of the road. Mia is with me. She’s sleeping in her car seat.”
“Okay, good.” She sighs.
“I hate to ask this, but are you able to come and get me? I know I’ll have to call a tow truck, but I don’t really want Mia around some strange tow truck driver.” I shiver at the thought. You just don’t know who you can trust these days, and I’m not taking any chances with my daughter or me.
“We’re in Chattanooga this weekend, visiting my mom and Cliff,” she tells me, and I can hear the apology in her voice.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I’m sorry to bother you while you’re visiting with her. I know you don’t get to see her as much since the move.”
“Amanda,” she says sternly. “You know that you’re never bothering me. Hold on.” I hear her telling Reid what’s going on. “Amanda, Reid’s going to call one of the guys to come help you.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I’ll just call an Uber home.”
“Don’t you have a car full of groceries?” she asks, and I cringe.
“Yeah, that.” I sigh. “Thank you. Please tell Reid thank you, and whoever comes, I’ll owe them a huge favor and multiple nights of babysitting,” I say. I don’t have much to offer. I make a decent income, but I’m a single mom, and living in Nashville isn’t cheap.
“Not necessary, and you know it. Hold tight. Reid is going to make some calls, and we’ll call you right back. You’re off the road and safe, right? Are your doors locked?”
“Yes, we’re off the road, and the doors are locked. It’s in a good area, so I’m not worried.”
“Okay. Give us five,” she says, and the line goes dead.
I open my phone’s browser and search for towing companies. I’m sure that since it’s a weekend, the price will be even higher, on top of whatever it costs to fix it. I’ll have to dip into my emergency fund, but if not having transportation isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is. I don’t even know what shop to take it to. I should have asked Reid that, as well. Times like this, I feel like I’m failing at life, but that’s okay. I’ll figure it all out and keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Adding another browser page, I start looking for mechanics, as well. I’m reading through some online reviews when Bellamy calls me back. I rush to answer and glance in the back to see if the call woke Mia, but she’s still snoozing away.
“Hi,” I answer.