“Ah, entering California!” my boyfriend Trevor announced as we crossed the Nevada-California state line. We were on the second and final leg of our return from a couple’s vacation in the Rocky Mountains. This served as a babymoon before our second child was due to arrive.
Besides this baby, we also have a four-year-old daughter named Hazel. She can’t wait to meet her new baby sibling and find out if it’s a brother or a sister.
“Great!” I said, feeling a hard kick in my belly. “I think I’m in labor.”
Trevor went pale and swerved to avoid an oncoming car. “What?! You’re only 37 weeks pregnant!”
I laughed. “It was a joke, babe; I just felt the baby kicking, is all.”
Trevor sighed. “Well, don’t scare me like that!”
Trevor and I talked about our favorite parts of the vacation for the next hour, only stopping because the car suddenly stalled.
“Goddammit!” Trevor sputtered, unsuccessfully trying to start the car again.
“What’s wrong, Trev?” I asked.
“Well, what does it look like, Veronica?! The fucking car died!”
“Babe, please – your temper!”
When he gets pissed or annoyed, Trevor tends to bring out a very hot temper.
“Don’t fucking ‘babe’ me! Just shut up so I can call a tow truck.”
Trevor fumbled with his phone for a bit, but instead of putting it to his ear to make the call, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Fucking phone died, too,” he mumbled.
“Here, let me try,” I said. I took my phone out of my purse, but after rapidly tapping on the screen about five or six times in a row, I realized that I, too, had a dead battery. I made a “tsk” sound with my lips to show my frustration as I put the phone back where it was.
“Not you, too!” Trevor shouted.
“Yeah, I’m afraid so. I guess we’ll have to flag somebody down.”
Trevor and I got out of the car and would frantically wave our arms at every car that came by. Nobody was biting for a while, and I was starting to lose hope when I saw a car slowing to a stop by the side of the road. It was an expensive looking one, probably a Lexus, and as soon as it parked, out popped a guy around my age. He was short and muscular with longish, wavy blond hair and a goatee.
“Need help, mates?” he asked in an Australian accent.
“Yeah, our car broke down, and both of our phones are dead,” Trevor explained.
“Yeah, do you have a jump starter or something?” I added.
“I sure do,” the guy said. “I like your top, by the way – it’s cute.” The last part was said in a flirtatious tone, which made Trevor hot under the collar again.
“You did NOT just flirt with my GIRLFRIEND!” Trevor snapped.
“Well, she seems a respectable young woman who deserves a nice compliment,” the guy defended as he used the jump cord to get the car running again.
“Then what the fuck was with your tone?! You were totally trying to steal my girl!”
“Guys, please!” I begged. “You’re stressing me out.”
“Stay out of this, bitch; I’m in the middle of something!” Trevor barked, punching me in the face.
“See what you just did, barmpot?!” the new guy retorted to Trevor. Meanwhile, I put my hands on my face to inspect the damage. “That is NOT how a girl should be treated, especially the one you supposedly love!”
“She’s mine; I can do whatever the fuck I want!”
“Not anymore, she’s not! As far as I’m concerned, you might as well consider yourself dumped and single!”
“And you’ll never get to see our children again, either!” I added.
Trevor would’ve pushed me to the ground if it hadn’t been for the other guy’s intervention. He kneed Trevor in the gonads and asked me if I was alright.
“No,” I said, my face still buried in my hands. “I think my face is bleeding.”
“Your face?” he repeated. “Let me see.”
My rescuer told me to remove my hands and gasped at what he saw. “Holy fuck! Look at that goose egg over your left eye!”
“How big is it?”
“Big enough to send you to the hospital, that’s for sure.” He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and gave it to me. “Use this to stop the bleeding and get in the shotgun seat while I call a tow truck for you. In the meantime, there’s a charging port by the console box.”
“Thank you so much,” I said as I followed his instructions.
“Veronica, get out of that car!” I heard Trevor order me as I watched Ashton get my suitcase out of my trunk. “I’m not done with you yet!”
“I told you to get out of my life!” I fired back. “I’d run before I make the other guy call the cops if I were you.”
Trevor put his hands up in surrender. “Fine! But this isn’t the last you’ll see of Trevor Taylor!”
“I heard your ex-boyfriend address you as Veronica,” the guy asked when we got to our first red light.
“My full name is Veronica, but my friends call me Nikki unless I’m in trouble,” I said. “What’s yours?”
“Ashton’s my name; don’t wear it out!” he quipped, making me laugh. “I think Veronica is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you. Where were you and the other bloke headed?”
“Home from vacation. We’d gone to the Rockies for a babymoon this week.”
“I did notice your baby bump. How far along are you?”