Your Chariot Awaits by Lorena McCourtney

and went to stare into the refrigerator, trying to spot something appealing for dinner. I was echoing Joella’s good riddance about Jerry, but at the same time the evening stretched out long and empty without even the prospect of a phone call.
    This is what life is going to be like from now on, I reminded myself dispiritedly. Get used to it.

6
    I was just sitting down at the counter to eat leftover meat loaf and spinach when the phone rang again. Whatever worrisome news it was this time, it couldn’t be any worse than the down-sized, dumped, and granddaughter blues I’d already encountered.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œAndi? Is that you? This is Fitz. From the coffee shop. Remember?”
    â€œI remember. The guy who read my private letter.”
    â€œThat’s all you remember about me?” He sounded disappointed.
    â€œThere’s more?”
    â€œYou could remember that I’m this handsome ex-TV detective, currently involved in glamorous charter sailboat trips, and I wanted to buy you a peach smoothie.”
    â€œWhatever.”
    â€œCome to think of it, if that Jerry guy doesn’t have your evenings all sewed up, I might even spring for dinner.”
    I gasped dramatically and clutched my throat. “Be still my throbbing heart!”
    â€œYou going to hold some permanent grudge about the letter thing?”
    Okay, it probably was petty. Nosy wasn’t a capital offense. I changed the subject. “I thought you were taking a charter sailboat trip out today.”
    â€œWe are. I’m on my cell phone. We’re sailing by Seattle right now. I can see the Space Needle and the Seattle skyline. It’s beautiful. Maybe you can come along sometime. You’d love it.”
    â€œUmmm,” I said. How did he know what I’d love? For all he knew, I could be a shopping-mall addict without a drop of outdoorsy blood in my veins.
    But he was right, of course. I probably would love it. I’d loved hiking and sailing with Jerry.
    â€œThe reason I called, I stopped in at the Sweet Breeze this morning before I picked up our guests, and Joella told me about your limousine. She said you’re thinking about starting a limousine service.”
    â€œWhat I’m planning to do is sell it.”
    â€œOh? Isn’t this a great opportunity to have a business of your own? You wouldn’t be stuck in an office. You’d be meeting interesting people and going places and being your own boss. All kinds of adventure and excitement.”
    He had some good points there, though adventure and excitement were not high on my list of occupational requirements.
    I muttered another noncommittal “Ummm.”
    â€œThe thing is, we have guests from New York arriving next Tuesday for a trip up around the San Juan Islands. They’ll be coming in at Sea-Tac. I usually transport people in our SUV, but these people are arriving at a different time than they originally planned, and I have an appointment with a lawyer set up for that morning.”
    A lawyer? I wondered why, of course, but I hadn’t the nerve to come right out and ask. Though I suspected Fitz might have, if the situation were reversed.
    â€œAnyway, I was thinking you could pick up these people with the limousine. In fact, we might turn it into a regular thing. It would add kind of a classy touch. We’ll pay whatever the going rate for limo service is, of course.”
    I was still hung up on one word back there. Sea-Tac. The huge Seattle-Tacoma airport was situated on the other side of Puget Sound, up between the two cities, at least an hour and a half or two hours’ drive. Maybe considerably more, if the traffic was bad, and it often was. Just the thought of putting my long-tailed limo out there for every eighteen-wheeler and oversized SUV to take aim at made me cringe. “Oh, I don’t think so. It’s quite a distance, and all that traffic . . .”
    â€œJoella said you took her for a