“This was not a good idea,” Annie muttered as she tried to see through her rain splattered windshield into the darkness around her. “I should have just stayed home.” But she was not home. She was currently trying to navigate a “short cut” through back roads to her friend’s charity event. What she would like to be was home cuddled up with a cup of tea, her book, and her cat; but Mari, a fellow teacher, was insistent that Annie try to break out of her self-induced shell and come be social with her. This rainy, back road navigational nightmare was not part of the bargain. Annie’s ringless hands gripped the steering wheel, as she avoided looking at the tan mark on her left ring finger. 

Annie pulled to the side and reached for her phone. In small letters at the top the words “No Service” were stalwartly thwarting her progress. Wasn’t there some sort of hiking advice to go straight and turn right when needed? Did she read that somewhere? Or maybe she made that up. Annie pulled back onto the deserted, wet road and continued. At the next crossroads she turned right. Continuing along, her headlights reflected off the rain-slicked trees lining the road. Another crossroads, another right. Annie felt her spirits lift a bit. At least she was moving and getting somewhere. Thirty minutes and two more rights later Annie stopped and felt her spirits plummet down to her toes. She was at a familiar looking crossroads - familiar because she had just spent the last half hour driving in a large square. So much for always taking a right. She never was much of a hiker anyways.

With no cell service and rain pelting down, Annie determinedly turned left. 

“Please, God, send me a sign,” she prayed silently. Funny how you can go days without thinking about your spirituality or religion, but the minute you are in a fix, the old habits come right back. Annie couldn’t remember the last time she had been in a church, but the familiar words were some of the first things that came back to her when she was in crisis. “I could use some help here,” she said out loud, feeling silly since she was alone.

And then suddenly, there was a sign. It was large and white and proclaimed “Entering Groton”. Annie gave a huge sigh of relief. Groton! Her best friend lived there and she’d been there 100 times. Soon something would look familiar. Coming to the next crossroads was another small sign: “Town Center” with an arrow pointing left. Annie’s spirits revived. She knew where she was! Soon the dark night was interspersed with street lights and the lights of a small convenience store as well as the town’s only stop light. Annie stopped at the red light and glanced at her phone. One bar of service! She had never been so excited to see one bar of service before.

It was now past 8:00 PM and arriving at a charity dinner that started at 7:00 did not seem like a thoughtful thing to do. Yet, Annie felt the draw of seeing a friend, and, since this was the first time since the summer that she had felt like going out of her way to actually connect with live people on her own time, she would do it. Annie navigated the side streets to her best friend’s Patricia’s house. Patricia and her husband had a lovely colonial with a large yard and swing set for their two children. Patricia was a good friend, even if Annie often felt like a third wheel when she was with them. Maybe Will, Patricia’s husband, would have taken the kids out tonight and she and Patricia could open a bottle of wine and laugh about her woodsy adventure and her potential failings as a Girl Scout leader. At least she was pretty sure they would be home as she had talked to Patricia that afternoon. She talked to Patricia every day and considered her a sister.

Annie ran through the rain to the front door and rang the bell. As the door opened she  called cheerfully, “Surprise!” The man at the door looked at her, startled. He was tall and blond and definitely not Patricia’s husband. 

“Oh my goodness!” sputtered Annie. “I’m so sorry! Is Patricia here?” She looked around. This was the right house, right?

“Oh hey, I’m Tim. Will’s friend from college,” the man at the door said, holding out his hand. “Will was tied up with the pizzas so I offered to answer the door.”

“Aunt Annie!” Will and Patricia’s 6-yea- old son, Liam, came running up. “Mom took Sarah to the mall for new dance shoes and we are playing Monopoly. Want to play?” Liam grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house.

Annie smiled at Tim as she hugged Liam. “I’d like nothing better,” she said. Tim smiled as he took her jacket.

 “I’m Annie by the way,” she said.

“Oh I know you!” Tim said with a laugh. “The other godparent.”

“Yes!” Annie agreed. “The one who missed the baptism because she had to be in her cousin’s wedding in Peoria. But I thought you lived on the West Coast.”

“I did,” Tim smiled ruefully. “Then I got pink-slipped last summer. I’ve been traveling a bit and now I’ve just taken a job about 45 minutes from here, so I was visiting Will and family.”

“I got pink-slipped last summer, too,” Annie said derisively. 

“Really? I had no idea. You’re a teacher, right?”

“Oh gosh. No. I mean yes. Yes, I am a teacher. I was using pink-slipped as a, um, figure of speech. I’m good now though. Really good. I’m actually better than I was before.” And, she thought to herself, I really am. I’m better than I was before. I’m strong and capable and I’m me, Annie. And no one can take that away from me.

‘Hey,” she said, smiling, “I could really go for a glass of wine!”

Six Years Later…

“Tell me again!” crowed four-year-old Jack as he bounced on his bed, a small train in each hand. “I want to hear it again!”

“I’ve already told you this story twice tonight,” Annie said as she gave Jack a goodnight kiss. “How about Go, Dog, Go?”

“I like my story,” he said as he snuggled under his covers. “One more time, please?”

“I’ve got it,” Tim said as he entered Jack’s bedroom, laying a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Okay, big guy. One more time. I’ll tell you the story of how Mommy got lost one rainy night and Mommy and Daddy found each other.”