Blog 3: Casa D'Waffles

Spring woke to a loud tap next to her ear and the orange streaks of light filtering through the car window. She jumped and turned toward the sound. A police officer stood glaring from outside her car window. “What the...” Spring uttered. Then she remembered.

Her phone still lay next to her hand, and she thought of the night before. Closing her eyes and groaning, she recalled the car breaking down, Spencer shouting, the blind man’s strange words, storming out of her house, leaving the frantic voicemail message for Spencer, and falling asleep in her car.

What is wrong with me...she thought. It wasn’t really a question.
She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes rolled down the window. “Good morning, officer,” Spring said, attempting her usual cheery tone, but it wasn’t the same.
“Morning, ma’am,” he grunted. “You know you’re parked on the side of one of the busiest roads in town, right?”
Spring looked around. She was pulled over on Popular Avenue, where a line of bumper-to-bumper traffic curled around the block.
“Oh,” was all she managed to utter.
“Yeah. ‘Oh,’” the officer said. “Do you also know that it’s illegal in CityBlock to sleep in your car?”
“No, I’m sorry, officer,” Spring said.
He sighed in disapproval and produced a notepad from the pocket of his uniform. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to write you a ticket for this.”
Spring knew it would be a waste of time to argue. She didn’t really care, anyways. Just one more problem to deal with. She took her ticket and thanked the officer, simply out of the habit of being polite.
“You’re going to have to move you car, ma’am,” the officer added before walking away.
“I understand,” Spring said, to no one in particular. She watched the officer drive away into the traffic.
Spring sat for a moment, still waking up and simply not wanting to move. Eventually, she turned the keys in the ignition. The engine, once again, choked and died.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Spring shouted.

She never cursed, but it was becoming a bit of a habit lately.

She slammed her fist on the wheel and the horn sounded loudly. A passing driver sped up in fright.

Looking around, she notice the Casa D’Waffles at the end of the block. A large neon sign advertised “Free Waffle with a Cup of Coffee!”

“Fuck it,” Spring said. She got out of the car and trekked across the street, ignoring the honks of the cars stuck in the mess of traffic now extending even further down the street. She glanced down the road to see what was causing the back-up. A large bus was stalled halfway around the corner, and several flashing police cars scattered around it. A woman in a waitress uniform was being handcuffed and escorted into the back of one of the police cars.
Huh, Spring thought.
She entered the waffle place, sat, and ordered a coffee and free waffle. She stretched her neck with several cracks. The headrest in her car wasn’t exactly a pillow. She would go home later and take a nap. Home. She couldn’t go home, could she? She had stormed out of her house without a word to her sister. They didn’t even know where she was.
Spring dug in her purse for her phone. They had probably called her a million times, worried about her. She pressed a button on her phone to light up the screen.
0 missed calls.
Spring didn’t know what she was expecting, really. Her sister and brother-in-law had their own problems to deal with, namely Caleb. Plus, their work. Why would the preoccupy themselves with her whereabouts?
Shit, Spring thought. Work. It was almost 9 AM. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.
The waitress brought Spring her coffee, which tasted watered-down, and her waffle, which tasted stale. “Could I get a newspaper?” Spring asked.
The waitress nodded and retrieved one. Mostly just to pass the time, Spring flipped through the dull news and advertisements. But suddenly, an ad caught her eye. A smiling, blue-eyed baby looked up at her from the left page. Underneath, words read “Watson Fertility. For a free consultation, call 1-800-350-8888.”
Spring dialed the number into her phone.