The sun had barely come up, but the taxi yard was already buzzing. Young driver Maggie was bent over the engine of her cab, fully absorbed in what she was doing. Then she heard a pleasant male voice behind her.
“Morning, Maggie. Up before dawn and already elbow-deep in grease. Serious problem, or do you need a hand?” The young woman jumped a little, straightened up, and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
She looked pretty funny, honestly: a streak of grease across her nose, oily rag in one hand, heavy wrench in the other instead of anything remotely ladylike. “Morning, Kevin. Thanks, but I’ve got it. The ignition was acting up, but I swapped out the spark plugs and now she’s purring.
Let me wash my hands and we’ll grab some coffee. I didn’t get a real meal in me yesterday, and my stomach’s starting to complain. I brought homemade cabbage hand pies, too, so help yourself.” The man rubbed his hands together and dug in, praising her cooking between bites. “Maggie, you’ve got a gift.
These are terrific. You can fix a car, cook like that, and on top of it you’re easy on the eyes. If I weren’t already married…” He grinned. “That boyfriend of yours must be blind.
A woman like you ought to be treated right.” Maggie let out a tired breath, sat down beside him, and took a sip of hot coffee. “Oh, come on. Men are all cut from the same cloth.
At first it’s all sweet talk and forever promises. Then the minute life gets complicated, they disappear. It’s fine. I’ll save up, have this baby, and raise him myself if I have to. I don’t need anybody rescuing me. Just do me one favor—don’t tell our boss, Arman, I’m pregnant. That cheapskate would show me the door in a heartbeat.”
Maggie had barely finished breakfast when the radio crackled to life: dispatch had a new fare. She gave Kevin a quick tap on the arm, jumped behind the wheel, and drove off humming to herself. Truth be told, Maggie loved driving for a living.
You never got bored behind the wheel. There were always new faces, and passengers told the best stories—some funny, some strange, some downright unbelievable. If someone had told her just a few months earlier that she’d be driving a cab for work, she would have laughed in their face.
Maggie had grown up out in the country. Her mother died young, when Maggie was only five, after a long battle with kidney disease. She never knew her father.
After her mother passed, her grandfather, Mack Turner, took her in and raised her himself. He wouldn’t hear of sending his granddaughter into foster care. Life in the country suited Maggie just fine.
Wide fields, open sky, the smell of fresh-cut grass, cold milk in the morning, and her fluffy cat, Muffin. Mack adored his granddaughter and taught her everything he knew. He showed her how to work with her hands, how to drive his old sedan, and even how to tear down and rebuild an engine.
They spent long afternoons side by side under the hood of that aging car. By the time she was sixteen, Maggie handled a vehicle better than plenty of grown men. So it was no surprise she passed her driver’s test on the first try.
When she got older, Maggie decided to move to the city and make a life for herself. She knew there wasn’t much future back home. Most of the younger crowd had already left, and the town was mostly older folks hanging on to the life they’d always known.
Her grandfather gave her his modest savings and his blessing. After moving, she rented a tiny room and found work as a waitress in a small neighborhood diner. She hated the job…
