If Kelli Zellers had a fault, it was the fact that she couldn't easily say the word, "No". It was a trait borne somewhat out of her DNA, her Mother was such a sweet woman that most who knew her thought she was a prime candidate for Sainthood. Between the selflessness Kelli showed with her Husband and two daughters over the years, not to mention her chosen career as a registered nurse, Kelli had long ago given more than she would ever take on this Earth.
That word, "No" often crept out of her lungs and into her throat, but very rarely did it ever slip off her tongue, and even when it did, Kelli felt a silly but real discomfort thinking she might be disappointing the person making the inquiry. It was simply the way she was wired.
Kelli's inability to say 'no' was what had her driving towards the Interstate on-ramp that unusually warm, late September Thursday morning, so she could head back to her home in the 'burbs after a 3rd straight 12 hour overnight shift at the St. Louis hospital she worked.
She was only a couple of blocks away from the entrance to I-64 West when she looked down and saw her gas gauge creeping towards a quarter of a tank. While it was certainly enough to get her home, Kelli decided to stop and fill up anyway so she wouldn't have to pump the gas on her way back out that night to go back in to work.
Kelli had worked the dayshift at her hospital for nearly a decade and a half, and certainly had the seniority to turn down the hours on graveyard if she wanted to put her foot down. But with several girls on 3rd shift away on vacation and many of the less tenured girls on her shift having young children who needed a steady routine in their lives, Kelli had offered to take the bullet for a few weeks until the night crew was back at full strength.
It wasn't the worst thing in the world. While it did mess with her internal clock, Kelli had found it quite nice to get off work a little after sunrise and be able to go home to a quiet house after her Husband had left for work and her 16 year old Daughter had left for school. She could make herself a little breakfast in peace, watch some of Oprah or The View perhaps, then get a good dose of sleep before waking up around 5 o'clock, put on some dinner, eat with her family, then get ready for her shift at work.
Kelli made the right into the gas station's parking lot and took a deep breath of thanks seeing the place wasn't that busy. The last thing she needed after being in her work clothes all night was to have to wait in line around a bunch of strangers, much less without a dab of make-up on, running into someone she knew. Quickly pulling up to the pump, Kelli got out, pumped $37.00 into her Subaru Outback and went inside to pay.
Other than the two clerks and a handful of customers milling around the store, the place was pretty much dead. After paying for her gas, a bottle of V-8 and a pack of peanut butter crackers to tide her over until she got home, Kelli walked back outside and clicked the remote to unlock her car.
Everything was going so routinely Kelli allowed her mind to drift as she walked to her car, thinking about a variety of things from a few incidents that happened the previous night at work to perhaps buying a new outfit to wear for a dinner party her Husband's office was throwing in a few weeks. She was completely oblivious to everyone parked or pumping gas around her.
Kelli was able to lose herself in thought a little easier at 9 o'clock in the morning at a place like that than she might if she'd stopped at 9 o'clock that evening. Still, she jumped a little and froze when she heard a male voice call out in her direction just as she'd rounded the front of her vehicle.
"Ma'am...excuse Ma'am," a deep but very friendly voice caused Kelli to turn around just before she reached for the driver's side door handle.
"Yes," Kelli answered, fumbling a little with her juice and crackers as she turned to see a well dressed and smiling black man pumping gas two pumps over.
"A co-worker and me are staying here in town a few days on business...up at the Best Western right up the street...we were both saying we're getting a little burnt out on fast food and we're wondering if there's a nicer sit-down diner or something a little further up the road?"
"...Yeah...I think so...I know there's a steakhouse that's open for lunch right up at the stoplight past the interstate exchange and the closer you get downtown there's plenty of Mom and Pop places," Kelli offered, completely at ease answering the unassuming man's question.
"Thanks," he replied. "And a few malls up that way, too?"
"Yeah...a couple of strip malls and a big indoor one," Kelli added before opening the door and preparing to step back inside.
Just before she did however, the 12 ounce glass bottle of V-8 that she'd been struggling with slipped from her fingers and shattered in a blood red puddle directly at her feet.
"AAAHH," a quick shriek burst from Kelli's throat the same time the exploding glass caused everyone in the parking lot to look her way.
Instantly pulling her feet away from the expanding mess, Kelli was thankful only a trace of the thick red juice dotted her white work shoes. Taking a quick look around to see just how many people had been outside to hear her little case of the 'dropsies', Kelli once again said a private prayer of thanks that the station wasn't all that busy. Only the gentleman that was pumping gas a few pumps over, who'd asked her a couple of questions a few seconds earlier, had apparently witnessed her act of clumsiness. And he only stood there behind his sunglasses smiling.
"OOPS," Kelli said out loud with a half a laugh, now faced with what to do next.
Like most people, her first instinct was to sneak back into her car and drive away but her conscience quickly stopped her. Kelli immediately imagined how she'd react if one of her children had made such a mess only to turn their back on it and disappear as if nothing had happened.
Stepping aside the growing puddle of juice and broken glass, Kelli swung her purse over her shoulder and started to walk back inside the store to get a broom. Before she could get halfway to the door however, a short, gray haired man with a noticeable slump and limp hobbled outside with a broom and walk along dustpan.
"I'm so sorry," Kelli mouthed with heartfelt apologies to the attendant who ambled up to the smashed glass and began sweeping it up into a loose pile.
Several of the customers who were inside the store gradually began filtering out the door and passing Kelli as she stood in the center of the parking lot, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to go back inside and get another bottle of juice.
"Just leave and go home," she told herself, the tiring brunt of her discombobulated work schedule, and messed up sleeping habits, finally catching up with her.