Road Rage by Jessi Gage

reached Brick and Mortar’s lot at 6:02. Closer to a main artery now, he saw more traffic. Early birds like him getting to work before the rest of Redding got out of bed. His truck hunkered all alone in the lot, white as a ghost in the darkness. His boots crunched on loose pebbles as he strode to it. As he climbed in, his stomach did an uncomfortable flop at the memory of the woman’s expression when he’d refused to believe she was real. She’d looked hurt, embarrassed. Disappointment had snuffed the joy in her eyes.
    “Shit,” he muttered as he climbed into his cab. Before turning the key in the ignition, he wiggled his cell phone out of his pocket and texted Deidre. Pls call me when u get this.
    He needed to see Haley after work today, not to admit he might have a ghost–he still wasn’t sure he believed it himself–but to apologize for last night. And the only way he’d be likely to get any face time with her would be to make nice with the ex. God give him strength.
    * * * *
    By the time Derek arrived at the job site at 6:30, the crew was already in full swing. He slapped on his hard hat and made the rounds before heading for the trailer to slog through his inbox. Sometimes he missed being out there with the crew, getting his hands dirty and using his muscles. Like today. He could have used a physical outlet for anger at himself.
    He was such a shithead. Destined to disappoint every woman in his life, even his Haley-girl, whom he’d hoped to protect from his anger. Even the dream girl he may or may not have made up. Thoughts of the tears in Haley’s eyes and the disappointment on his dream girl’s face kept pulling his focus away from what he needed to get done. To top it all off, he felt bad about going off on Deidre last night when she’d only been trying to help.
    His cell phone rang at 9:15. He glanced at the display. Deidre.
    “Hey,” he said.
    “Hey,” she said.
    “I’m a dick.”
    “Yup.” The p popped.
    He sighed and leaned back in his squeaky chair. He stared at the acoustic ceiling tiles while he tried to figure out the magic combination of words that would get her to let him see Haley tonight. Thinking he’d come up with something pretty good, he said, “I should have kept my temper in check with Haley in the house.” He waited for her to say something. “You still there?”
    A bitter laugh. “Would it kill you to say the words?”
    He knew the words she meant. How many fights had gone on for days when he could have ended them within minutes by simply saying those two little words? He hated when people said them and didn’t mean them, or said them so often they lost their meaning. He’d determined long ago to save those words for times he knew he’d done wrong and intended not to do it again. This wasn’t one of those times.
    He couldn’t promise never to lose his cool with Deidre again, and since Haley was their kid, she’d most likely see them clash from time to time even though he’d do his damnedest to spare her that. But he did owe Deidre an apology. So that’s what he gave her.
    “I apologize, okay? I shouldn’t have yelled at you with Haley in the house.”
    She sighed long and loud. “It would be nice if you didn’t yell at me at all. What’s with you, anyway? Ever since Friday, it’s like I can’t say two words to you without you taking offense.”
    “Friday?”
    “Yeah. At Haley’s game. You were distracted the whole time. Then you practically bit my head off when I said hello. I hope you weren’t hard on Haley over the weekend. I tried to ask, but she’s being sullen.”
    Friday. The accident.
    Had he really been acting more irritable since then? Come to think of it, why was he still having nightmares about the wreck? One nightmare he could excuse, since he’d witnessed something pretty hairy, but having it every night? Dreaming about that other accident, the one on the rainy roadside, what the hell had that been about? And his dream-ghost girl… He