A Christmas Rideshare Read online

  A Christmas Rideshare

  By

  Lily Dae

  Copyright © Pilgrim Fowl Press and Barbara Burgess. All rights reserved. www.PilgrimFowlPress.com This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is fictionalized or coincidental.

  Dae, Lily. A Christmas Rideshare (A Snowed In Love Story).

  Phone

  Mom: I can’t wait to finally meet Roxanne! Does she have any food allergies? Love, Mom

  Mom: What size sweater does she wear? I hope I got the right size. We’ll have to take the Ugly Sweater photo right when you two arrive if we’re going to use it for the invitations. Love, Mom

  Mom: Aunt Janice is here! She says to send a selfie. No one knows what you look like anymore! Love, Mom

  Mom: I said that last part. Love, Mom

  Charlotte

  I turned off my oversized phone and pocketed it. There were sweaty, mustached men in my apartment packing up my life.

  “You’re taking the kitchen table?” My voice was more of a squeak than an actual, adult human sound.

  The movers shot each other a not-again look as they wrapped the dining table in a moving quilt.

  “Yeah, I paid for it,” Roxanne said as another mover slid a naked mattress down the hall.

  “And, the mattress?”

  “Yeah.”

  She was so matter-of-fact scrolling through her phone like it was just any other day.

  “What’s going on, Rex? Why are you doing this?” The words fell heavily from my mouth. They felt like work. When she didn’t even look up from her phone, they turned to molten lava.

  “Specifically,” I said, slapping my hand over her screen, “why are you doing this now?!”

  Now. Why now? We were less than 24 hours away from our first official Christmas together as a couple. My parents bought her an ugly sweater for our annual Ugly Sweater Party. We’d been living together for six months, I thought we might actually, god, this sounds so stupid - I actually thought we were going to get engaged soon.

  “We just want different things.”

  “Since yesterday?!”

  She slid her phone into her back pocket and walked over to the half-wall that divided the dining area from the kitchen in our small apartment. I watched her unplug the Alexa and wrap the cord around her hand. She leaned in and kissed my forehead while cradling our…her Alexa in the crook of her arm.

  “You’re really doing this?”

  “Yeah,” she said without hesitation. She turned and walked toward the door without looking back or anything. She just closed the door.

  I looked around at my barren apartment. All that was left was an empty tv stand, my bookshelf, and reading chair.

  “Where the fuck am I supposed to sleep?!”

  Charlotte

  I had only just told my folks about Roxanne. It was all so good and still had that new relationship smell to it. I didn’t want to jinx it. This is what I get for blabbing. A bowl of cereal for dinner and a vintage reading chair for a bed.

  I kicked my feet up on the empty entertainment center. Just as I was about to take a bite, my phone vibrated and chimed.

  Ding.

  A blurry photo of mom and Aunt Janice appeared. Someone’s finger, most likely dad’s, was in the corner, and the two of them were holding goldfish bowl-sized wine glasses filled to the brim with what I imagine was white wine and lots of ice.

  I had been single for so long. “Single Charlotte.” Every holiday, baby shower, and family gathering, someone would make a fuss that “Single Charlotte” had arrived…alone…again.

  I wasn’t against relationships as a rule! I had been swamped since I was two years old. Jazz, tap, spelling bees. You name it; I did it! Adventure camps, science camps, run club, and 4H in elementary school and junior high.

  Then, I focused on high school. High GPA. Extracurriculars. Then, college. Bachelor’s in Business. Graduated early. Got a good job, and then I got a great job.

  The great job came with benefits. Those benefits were flirtatious sticky notes at first. Then, late-night meetings. Then, dinner. And, then well, then a small apartment recently emptied by large men with impressive mustaches. A missing cylindrical device that told those who gathered around it what the weather was going to be for the weekend. Cereal for dinner. And, in Tennessee, a family waiting to admit a new member…finally.

  Me: Don’t start the party without me!

  Mom: We’re saving the good stuff for you and my future daughter-in-law, darling! Don’t worry! Love, Mom

  Me: About that - I’ll be coming alon-

  I’ll be coming alone. I could have just told them I was coming alone, and that I did not want to talk about it. Right? Right.

  Mom: We are just thrilled, darling! I am so happy you’ve finally found someone. What a wonderful Christmas gift for the family! Love, Mom

  Well, shit.

  Charlotte

  The flight from Chicago to Nashville is short. Only about two hours, and while it is nice to fly with an empty seat beside you, it makes the flight longer knowing who was supposed to be sitting there.

  What was I going to tell my parents and Aunt Janice? I could straight-up lie and say something like, “Oh, I lost Rex on the flight! Silly me! I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached!”

  No way that would work.

  I could just stay on the plane. I could just stay on the plane and go back and forth from the airport to the airport. Planes are subways, right? I could just keep flying.

  Telling the truth wasn’t going to make this trip any better. I couldn’t take a week of my mother looking disappointed and the neighbors frowning at me while saying backhanded sympathetic platitudes, “Well, Charlotte, this is an opportunity to get to know yourself. You have to love yourself before you can love someone else.” As if I don’t have a clue who I am! As if I don’t think I worth a relationship.

  I felt my chest start to tighten, and my breaths were getting shorter and shorter. I had to stop telling myself stories like this, but I knew that was what it would be like.

  The truth is that I do actually love myself, anxiety, and all. I think my life is worth sharing with someone, but I wanted to make sure I was sharing my life with someone worth it. So, yes, I dragged my feet a little. A lot. I met Rex and thought she was worth it, but…

  More tightness and shorter breaths were coming on.

  “Ma’am. Would you like some water? Or a paper bag?” A woman in a tightly wrapped bun leaned over my seat with a small water bottle in hand.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, taking the water.

  “There’s an airsickness bag in the pocket of the seat in front of you. Please press the flight attendant button is you need anything.”

  I turned pink with embarrassment. “Thank you.” The other few passengers on the flight gave me sideways glances as I fanned myself with the paper bag and sipped my little water.

  Only a few moments after, we were all jarred slightly as the plane landed at BNA. Time to face the music.

  It was unseasonably cold. Nashville is known for its fickle weather, and we were receiving that fickleness in full. It was 60 degrees when I checked the weather before I left my apartment. And, of course, the temperature dropped the moment I left Chicago. I was standing in the 34-degree cold in ripped jeans and a fashionable but breezy cashmere sweater.

  I opened the Tag-A-Ride app and chose the ride closest to me. Headlights on a large, black SUV flashed the moment I scanned my thumbprint.

  Please, let there be heat in there!

  Opal

  “Take the first fare that comes your way,” I said to my reflection in the rearview mirror. “This doesn’t have to be a long night at all. One quick pick-up and drop-off, and you can go home, have some tea, and read a book. And, you know what, you don’t have to do this ever again.”

  I knew I could rely on a quick fare from BNA. Tourism in the city was always high, but around the holidays, drivers were overwhelmed with requests.

  The moment I turned on my Tag-A-Ride, my phone began vibrating and chirping. A bubble appeared on the screen with a picture of a blonde girl in pale pink aviators.

  “PinkCupcake tagged you,” said the Tag-A-Ride AI voice.

  I flashed my headlights and tapped the “You’re it!” bubble to confirm the ride. I saw a blur of blonde hair and pink fuzz heading my direction. I could tell she was a talker. I took a deep breath, counted down from five, and unlocked the door.

  Charlotte

  “Thank god!” A wave of warmth hugged me as I pulled opened the passenger door.

  “Need help with your bags?” The driver asked, unbuckling her seatbelt.

  “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  I would say I tossed my bags in the backseat with a wild abandon, but that would be an understatement. The skin showing through my jeans was turning blue!

  “Do you mind if I sit in the front?” I shouted from the floorboard, where I was stowing my carry-on.

  “Sit wherever you like, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am? You don’t have to call me ma’am.” I whipped the back door closed, opened the passenger door, and hopped onto the step rail. A hand extended out to you me.

  “Need some help up?”

  She had a pleasant voice. A little smoky which suited her 80’s Joan Jett look.

  “Thank you. Point those bad boys at me!” I tilted all but one of t
he vents right at my thighs, letting the heat hit my skin through the rips.

  “Nice jeans.” She said softly as she adjusted the heat and turned on my seat warmer.

  “I know I look ridiculous in this weather, but it was warm here when I got on the plane.” I have no idea why I was getting defensive and sensitive about a compliment from a total stranger. I should have said thank you, but I just kept blabbing about the weather.

  “They’re supposed to be fashionable,” the driver said, glancing at my jeans and shifting the SUV into drive, “but they’re really just air conditioning that you can’t control. Seat belt, please.”

  I didn’t know what exactly I was supposed to say to that, so I reached over my shoulder, shot her a little side-eye, and belted myself in.

  Charlotte

  Me: Landed. Headed your way.

  Mom: Did you rent a car? I hope you two aren’t riding with some stranger. Love, Mom

  Mom: What kind of car did you get? Are you texting and driving? Love, Mom

  Me: Got a Tag-a-Ride. Will be there soon.

  I closed the messenger app and opened a browser.

  Search: How to be an effective liar

  Delete.

  Search: How to convince people your girlfriend is invisible

  Delete.

  Time to bite the bullet. I was just going to tell them I came alone. My relationship, turns out, was not as stable as I thought, and I’m going to die alone most likely eaten by my neighbors' cats.

  I started typing that last bit but immediately thought better of it. My shoulders sagged. I leaned back and looked out the window while wet sat on the edges of my eyelids.

  “Warming up?” The Tag-A-Ride driver asked softly.

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  She lifted the corner of her mouth and nodded.

  I opened my camera app to make sure I didn’t look ridiculous - you know, like a grown woman crying in a strangers car because she doesn’t want her mommy and daddy to find out she’s been rejected.

  She glanced over as I was wiping beneath my eye. The corner of her mouth lifted again. It would have made a great picture…

  It would have made a great picture!

  I had a plan. I wiggled in my seat a bit and lifted the phone.

  I framed myself for a selfie and got the driver’s head right over my shoulder, but she was like freaking bigfoot! Always blurry and never even giving as much as profile shot!

  Time to take it to the next level.

  Opal

  I could see her fidgeting in my peripheral vision. She was about the change the destination last minute or ask to be dropped at a bathroom. I could tell.

  “Hey, so this is going to sound strange, but can I take a picture of you?”

  “Me?” That’s a new one.

  “Yeah.”

  “While I’m driving?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Proof of life. For my mom.”

  “For your mom? How old are you?”

  “26. I’ll give you 20 bucks.”

  “What are you going to do with it? “

  “Send it to my mom. Then, I’ll delete it. I promise.”

  She turned slightly in her seat and leaned her head back, almost resting on my shoulder. I suddenly smelled vanilla. An artificial shutter sound clicked before I could say anything else.

  “Okay. One more, but this time can you smile?”

  “I’m kind of driving right now.”

  “You can’t smile and drive?”

  “Point taken.” I complied, and she snapped another.

  “Not bad. Okay. We’re going to nail it this time! Could you just…”

  “Nope.” I turned on the hazards and pulled over. Cars raced passed my door as I pulled to the shoulder of the highway.

  “Okay. Who do you work for?” I was exhausted by the media. I didn’t care how cute she was or what kind of baked goods she smelled like, I was going to have her fired.

  “What?”

  “Are you a reporter? A blogger? A vlogger?”

  She scrunched her face and looked genuinely confused. “What?”

  “Okay. You can get out here.”

  “Here? On the interstate?!”

  “I’ll wait here with you until another Tag-A-Ride comes for you. Now, will you please delete that picture?”

  “Excuse me, I’m paying for a ride, and I paid for that picture. I’m sending it.”

  “No transaction has taken place, and I did not agree to be photographed.”

  “I’ll pay you once I get to my destination.” Red crept up her neck and cheeks. I saw her jaw clench. I reached for my phone and swiped through the app.

  “There’s another car 15 minutes from here. I’ll take you to the gas station off the exit.”

  “Fine.”

  “Delete the pictures.”

  Charlotte

  Two minutes later, we were sitting in the parking lot of a truck stop. She tapped on her phone a few times and slouched hard in the driver’s seat.

  “I’m sorry. I know that was weird. If you will just hear me out before you send for that other car. I think we can help each other out here.”

  “I’m really not in the mood. The ride is on me. Both of them.”

  “Please, hear me out. It’s Christmas.”

  An audible sigh followed by a frustrated groan bounced around the interior of the SUV. She placed the phone down on the dash. “I’m listening.”

  “First, no. I’m not a blogger or anything.”

  “Go on.”

  “I can’t believe I’m telling my rideshare driver this, but I was dumped yesterday. She took my fucking mattress.” The words were escaping before I could form a coherent storyline. “My family is expecting my very serious girlfriend for an ugly sweater party and me.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “Well, I have so many questions.”

  “Look, here’s what I’m thinking. You take this photo with me and pretend to be Rex. Roxanne. We go to my folks’ place, you pose for our ugly sweater photo, and then you get an “emergency text,” and have to leave. No one will ever know. It will be our secret for life. I’ll take this one to the grave if you just save me this humiliation and another year of my mom asking me for grandchildren!”

  “And how does this benefit me?”

  “I’ll give you five stars?”

  She crossed her arms and screwed the corners of her mouth.

  “And I’ll pay you! No one drives during the holidays if they aren’t looking for extra cash. I can throw some your way. I’m not rich or anything, but I can invest a few dollars in a peaceful holiday vacation with my family.”

  “How much?”

  “50. And, and I’ll feed you!”

  She took a deep breath and leaned on the steering wheel.

  “Please? I can’t tell my parents my first real relationship has ended without any good reason.

  She leaned her head back and sighed. Her finger curled over pursed lips. She was either genuinely considering it or wondering how good a shot she had of just making a run for it.

  After a moment of tense silence, she pinched between her eyebrows, closed her eyes, and said, “How long have we been together?”

  Lightning energy whipped through my body.

  “Nine months, but we’ve known each other for about a year.”

  “How did we meet?”

  “At work.”

  “Ew, that’s going to be uncomfortable when you get back.”

  “Tell me about it.” I slumped.

  She adjusted herself in the driver’s seat and flitted her lapels. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  My eyebrows went rogue. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She unbuckled her seat belt and slid toward the center console. Her right arm reached for the headrest behind me. I leaned into the crook of her arm, resting my head on her shoulder.

  “You’re a saint! You are not going to regret this. There is so much good karma coming to you for this!”

  “Uh huh. Let’s do this.”

  I snapped a perfectly ordinary photo of two strangers pretending to be in love.