![]() |
A girl enters a carpool, one of them is crazy, and she falls in love with a guy she meets. |
| Chapter 1 "Attention passengers: Now arriving at Maple Ridge." Trying to clear the haze of sleep, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She groaned in frustration, then began to search beneath her seat for her leather bag. With a sigh of relief, she grasped the handle. It was a wonder it hadn't been stolen. Pushing past her seat neighbor, she rushed toward the stairs. Clutching for her purse, she found it was missing. She scrambled back to her seat and grabbed it, racing towards the train doors. Two levels, it had been designed for comfort. With four seats in a group, and tables in between, there was enough space to read, hook up a laptop, or comfortably fall asleep. Unfortunately, the sound system needed improvement. In consideration for sleeping passengers, who were apparently expected to bring their own alarm clock, stations were announced almost silently. She checked her watch, noting it was already 6:05. Great! She had made her brother promise to pick her up at six. Well, she shouldnât have fallen asleep. Sheâd just have to find a way to get back. She couldnât walk back; it would take forever, and she was already late. Besides, the sun had begun to set a hour ago. A single girl out alone is just asking for trouble, never mind walking in the dark along a semi-deserted road. The West Coast Express followed the Lougheed Highway, going from town to town, with next to nothing in between. Looking for a friendly passenger, she spotted an older Asian woman with a smile on her face. âExcuse me. Do you know when the next train goes back to Port Coquitlam?â âOh, you miss your stop? So cold out! No more trains. They go this way only. Go back in morning. Have to call taxi.â Dismayed, she tried to think of an alternate solution.â I donât need a taxi, my brotherâs waiting at the last station⌠I just have to get back there. Are there any buses?â âNot to PoCo. You take bus to Coquitlam Center, then change bus to Downtown. You walk to stationâ. âGreat. Thank you.â Great. That would make it a thirty-minute trip, when she could walk it in ten. Whoever designed the transit system deserved a fate worse than death. Maybe a lifetime of taking buses to their desired destinations. The thought made her smile. At least it wasnât snowing; this was the first time that she could remember it being somewhat decent in February, but the wind still chilled her to the bone. Dismayed, she stepped off the train, only to be hit by a gust of wind and the force of seasoned travelers. She looked toward the bus terminal, and the mass of people waiting in line. A hand gripped her shoulder. âExcuse me. I heard you were trying to get to Port Coquitlam station. I live out that way, thought maybe youâd like a ride?â Turning around, she stood face to face with a woman who could easily have been her grandmother. Two inches shorter than herself, and at least forty pounds overweight, the woman looked like an overweight Mary Poppins. Weary of any strangers, even women, she hesitated. She had never hitchhiked or accepted a ride in all her twenty-two years. Still, she could easily take this woman if she had to. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes and smiled at the woman. âIf you donât mind, thatâd be great. Normally I wouldnât mind taking the bus, but Iâm already late.â Following the portly woman to the parking lot, she readjusted her bag and relaxed. The wind blew her hair around so she turned towards it, smiling. â Did you fall asleep on the train? My nameâs Pat by the way.â Unlocking the passenger door for her, the woman held the door so she could climb inside, before going to the other side. âIâm Bliss. I havenât quite gotten used to them yet, though thatâs the first time Iâve fallen asleep.â Battling traffic, Pat chuckled. âYou get used to it. Iâve been riding them daily for the past 2 years. I used to drive in, but with the cost of gas, and maintenance, itâs just not worth it. Plus, trafficâs a bitch.â Startled, Bliss laughed. âI know! I drove in the first week, and figured out the meaning of road rage. We were at a dead stop, on a highway! It took me an hour and a half to get to work, when it should have been half that.â She shook her head, in remembrance. âNot that the trainâs any better. After I get to Vancouver, I have to take 2 buses, when itâs only 10 minutes away.â âMm Hmm. Thatâs the way they planned it. If you wanted to get from here to Vancouver, youâd end up taking four or five buses, and longer than driving. Believe me, itâs the truth. They want to encourage people to take the train, I suppose.â âWell, itâs working. Not that I mind the train, I think itâs great. Itâs just so expensive. Iâm trying to save up a down payment for a house, and the hundreds itâs costing me to get to work every month are horrifying.â âSaving for a house already? Youâre so young! Well, good luck to you. This is my turn off. Iâm going to have to drop you off here, if you donât mind. If you walk straight for about 2 blocks, youâll hit the station right on.â She pulled onto the quiet street and slowed the truck. â No problem! Thank you so much. I really appreciate this.â She smiled at Pat, and waved as she drove off. Vancouver. Carpool. VGH. Vancouver General Hospital. Sigh. Nothing was even remotely related to a carpool website in Vancouver was turning up a hit. Usually she found exactly what she wanted with this search engine. The Vancouver Hospital was 2 blocks from where she worked at the Center for Disease Control, and she figured that would be her best bet. It was either find a carpool, this week, or buy a monthly pass for the train. Sheâd made up her mind. The cost of a monthly pass as compared to buying daily equaled a savings of about half, so sheâd be insane not to buy one. She had held out these last few weeks in the vain hope that someone would call her about the ad she had posted. Apparently, not too many people car-pooled in her area. She turned off the computer, and went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate, the perfect way to relax after a long day. She grabbed the latest novel she was reading, and settled onto the couch. Her little Chihuahua, Princess, bounded after her, settled in her lap and got comfortable. She thought again of the condo in North Vancouver. It had three bedrooms, a mirrored dining room, and a decent location. The price was the maximum she could afford on her salary, but real estate was expensive. As far back as she could remember, she had always wanted to own something. That likely stemmed from the fact that her family had moved at least once a year ever since she could remember, and had only once owned a trailor. Up until high school, she had even gone to a different school every year. No wonder she was such a loner. It was amazing she didnât need to spend all her condo fund on therapy. |