But deep breathing and happy thoughts were not working tonight. So she turned to prayer, begging God for some serious help. It was the first time in a long time that she’d asked God to direct her path—but that’s exactly what she said. Because Dillon had no idea where her life was headed—for all she knew it was about to go over a cliff. Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a prayer, but it was heartfelt, and when Dillon whispered amen, she felt slightly more at ease. Like Scarlett O’Hara said, tomorrow was another day.
CHAPTER
2
Once again, Dillon woke to the sound of her phone jingling. But judging by the light sneaking beneath the blinds, at least it was morning. She reached for her phone, thinking it might be Brandon calling to apologize, but seeing it was her boss, she ignored it. Of course, she knew this would only result in more calls, usually about three minutes apart until Dillon finally answered. LeeAnn was relentless.
On the second call, Dillon answered. “Hey, LeeAnn.” She said in a flat tone. “What’s up?”
“I need you to work today.”
“It’s Saturday.” Dillon knew this excuse never worked with LeeAnn, but it was worth a try.
“I know it’s Saturday, Dillon.” Her voice dripped of exasperation. “It’s Saturday for me too and I’m already here at work.”
Dillon wanted to point out that LeeAnn was paid more than Dillon, and that she got paid double-time for weekend work. “I’m exhausted, LeeAnn, and I need a—”
“Who isn’t exhausted? But if I have to work, you do too. I expect you here by—”
“What if I can’t come in today?” Dillon held her breath, knowing she’d just shoved her big toe over the proverbial line.
“Are you dying?”
“No, but I—”
“Then you get in here or else.”
“Or else what?” She felt another toe sliding across the line.
“Or else, get yourself to the unemployment office.”
“Seriously?” Dillon jumped out of bed. “You’d fire me for not working on a Saturday? Seriously?”
“You bet I would. And I’d have every right to dismiss you . . .” LeeAnn’s tone softened. “But I know you won’t put me in that position, Dillon. You’re always such a trooper. I can always count on you. Besides, I just sent out for breakfast bagels and lattes.”
Although the thought of food was tempting, Dillon decided to stand her ground. “I’m sorry, LeeAnn, but I cannot come in today. You’ll just have to get by without—”
“Then consider yourself unemployed, Ms. Michaels. I’ll send a memo about this to Reggie.”
“Honestly?” Dillon didn’t believe it. “You’d do that after all I’ve done for—”
“You can clear out your cubicle on Monday.” Her tone was firm.
Too stunned to respond, Dillon simply hung up and began pacing back and forth in her tiny bedroom. Within twenty-four hours she had lost her boyfriend and her job? How was that even possible? As she paced, two things became very clear. She was ravenous . . . and homesick.
By one o’clock, after a hearty brunch at a nearby café, Dillon had carelessly crammed all her belongings into her small car, surprised that they actually fit. Then, standing in the apartment parking lot, she handed her apartment keys over to her stunned roommates who’d just pulled up.
“Are you leaving because of the Lean Cuisine incident last night?” Reba poked Val in her padded midsection. “Told you she was mad at you.”
“I’m really sorry,” Val said. “It’s just that I started that dumb diet, and I got so hungry, well, I totally meant to replace your food.”
“It’s okay.” Dillon sighed.
“Was it because our movie was too loud last night?” Reba asked.
“It’s because I’m going home to Oregon,” Dillon admitted.
“Because of your breakup?” Reba sounded sympathetic.
“No, not really. It’s a combination of things. I think my grandfather needs me right now.” Dillon jotted down his address on the back of a now-defunct business card. “I just need to go home . . . it’s been too long.”
“But what about your job?” Val’s eyes grew wide. She worked at the same company. “What about your boss—the Dragon Lady? She’ll fire you for sure if you’re not there on Monday.”
“That ship has sailed.” Dillon forced a sheepish smile. “LeeAnn fired me this morning, for not working today.”
“Oh wow, but maybe it’s for the best.” Val patted her shoulder. “It could’ve gotten awkward with Brandon still working there—remember how it went down with Cassie and Tom after they broke up? What a mess.”
“Yeah, I hadn’t really considered that.” Dillon handed Val the business card. “This is to forward my mail. And would you mind boxing up my personal stuff at my workstation and sending it on?” She reached for her wallet. “I’ll give you postage to—”
“I’ll mail it, but you keep your money. I owe you for the Lean Cuisines.”
The three of them hugged and, feeling surprised that her roommates looked genuinely sad to see her go, Dillon got into her jam-packed car, waved goodbye, and drove away. As she headed westward on the interstate, she felt strangely free. Almost like a bird that had just been released from its cage. It was a gorgeous day with clear blue skies and a beautiful landscape. Perfect for driving. What could be better? She put on a mix of her favorite songs and even sang along.
But as the day wore on and the flat Wyoming landscape made her sleepy, she began to feel worried. What on earth was she doing out here like this? It was one thing to give up on Brandon . . . but her job as well? Had she lost her mind? Throughout high school and college, Dillon had always worked hard. Some had labeled her an “overachiever,” which she felt was a compliment. She’d taken the first decent-paying job offered after graduation, relocated to the Colorado Springs software company, and continued with her hard work ethic. For more than a decade, she’d lived frugally, whittling away her college loans, which she’d paid off last year. She’d always been careful and responsible and reliable—something Margot had never understood or even appreciated.
Dillon had never done anything that could’ve been considered spontaneous or impetuous or risky. Even the Subaru she was driving right now, her first and only car, had been carefully researched for gas mileage, safety, and dependability. But today she was taking a long trip in it, and she hadn’t even checked to see if her oil needed changing. Had she gone completely mad?
Suddenly Dillon remembered last night’s prayer . . . how she’d asked God to direct her path. And here she was on the outskirts of Wyoming, heading for Silverdale, Oregon. Was this really the path she was supposed to take? If so, why? Nothing made much sense right now. Well, except for the fact that she was not going to make it to Salt Lake before sundown. And she was hungry. But she’d made no plans on where to stop for the night.
Up ahead was an old-fashioned-looking camp trailer. One of those cutie-pies that someone must’ve lovingly restored. It was white and Pepto-Bismol pink, shaped like a teardrop—and adorable. As she passed the trailer, she tried not to stare at the driver in the white pickup that was pulling it, but she felt curious. What kind of people did that sort of thing? To her surprise, there was another vintage trailer up ahead. This one was white and turquoise and even cuter than the one she’d just passed. Was it a coincidence, or were they friends traveling together? She wasn’t sure, but noticing an exit sign for Evanston, she decided it was time to find food and lodging.