I read the short email that came to my computer that morning:

“I cannot thank you enough for what you did. You saved my life that day. I know that it cost you dearly and you may not want to see me and relive the accident, but I would very much like to meet you and thank you properly for you courage and sacrifice.”

Martina

It had been a terrible accident. I had been driving on what we call The Grapevine just north of Wheeler Ridge where the I-5 splits from HWY 99. It was really foggy that day and the fog came up suddenly, before anyone could realize it. And that’s when it happened.

I had slowed down trying to see through the fog as thick as buttermilk when I heard this god-awful sound of metal tearing followed by an explosion. As I came closer I saw it was a multiple car accident – there were people walking around dazed, some sitting in their cars in shock and the place looked like a car dealership had been bombed.

Suddenly I heard a woman screaming and whirled around to see some lady trapped in her car and it was on fire. I ran over and tried to help but her windows were locked (I was told later they were power windows and they had been damaged in the accident).

I grabbed the first thing I could find – a piece of somebody’s car. It was heavy and had a sharp point. So I smashed in the window and was able to get the door open enough to pull her out. That’s all I remember until I woke up in the hospital.

The doctors told me I had saved the woman’s life but in doing so, I was hit by another car and it crushed my left leg to the point it had to be amputated. That was almost seven months ago and I had gotten used to life now without it. At least as used to life without it as one can.

Things are different now ... I lost my truck driving job and am now driving a desk, and my outdoor activities have been curtained some. But I guess I should be thankful I’m alive. My friends have been wonderfully supportive and I have gotten good medical care. I can walk on my prosthetic almost as good as I used to walk with both legs. The “phantom pains” still come now and then, but they are diminishing as well.

I looked at the email once more. I didn’t remember much about this Martina woman except what I was told. Everything that day happened so fast and then the other car hit me and I went unconscious. I thought about the email that whole day, and that evening I sent my reply:

“Hello Martina,

You don’t have to thank me for what I did that day – the reality is I don’t remember a whole lot about it. And I have gotten past what happened. But if you would like to meet, we can meet at Lulu’s Diner on Friday the 12th at 6:00 for coffee or something. Let me know if this is acceptable.”

Robert

About an hour later I got a ding on my computer telling me I had an email. It was Martina:

“Hello Robert,

I would love to meet you on the 12th and I can help fill in some of the blank spots and questions you might have about what happened if you like. I look forward to meeting you and thanking you for your bravery.”

Martina

I marked my calendar and then went on with what I was doing. The 12th was a few days away and I had just about forgotten the whole thing until the day before I happened to look at my schedule for the following day and saw the meeting note. I was somewhat curious about why after all this time she had contacted me but I figured she could explain all that when we met.

That afternoon I sat at Lulu’s waiting for my mystery woman and wondering if this was a good idea after all. It was a public place though and the place was about half-full so there were people around. I was drinking a cup of coffee while I waited. The time ticked by and I was thinking that she wasn’t going to show up when all of a sudden I heard a voice from behind me.

“Robert?” the female voice said.

I stood up and turned to see the most magnificent woman I had ever laid eyes on!

“Martina?” I asked once I remembered I could talk.

“Yes, I am glad to finally meet you, Robert,” she said. “I have been trying to find you and contact you since right after the accident. At first no one was sure who you were, but I found the hospital that they took you to and tracked you down. Please don’t think I’m a stalker or anything, I just had to thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I would have died that day ... in a most horrible way.”

Martina looked down at the table as she spoke softly. I reached across the table and put my hand on hers. “I am just glad I could be there to help,” I said, trying to comfort her. It was obvious that the accident had a more troubling effect on her than it did on me. Even though I was the one missing the leg, I was fortunate that I didn’t remember what happened that terrible day. But Martina did remember – every gruesome, traumatic detail.

“I was headed to Bakersfield to show a house ... I’m a real estate agent. I had a special showing up there and was headed to it when the accident happened. I didn’t see the car ahead of me in the fog and hit it. But the real bad part happened when someone else hit me. That’s when the gas tank ruptured and the car caught fire. My power windows were messed up in the accident and didn’t work – the mechanic said the wires were cut by something. Anyway, you came along and broke the window and pulled me out. And then...” she explained. She looked down again when she got to the part where I was hurt.

“So how did I get hurt?” I asked her. Martina got real quiet for a long time. “Martina?” I asked again.

“Oh, Robert! I am so sorry!” she said. “It was so stupid of me! Right after you pulled me out of the car, you started to push me to the side of the road out of danger and away from the car. But foolish me, I insisted I have my purse. I wouldn’t get off the idea I needed my purse. So to get me to leave and get to safety, you reached back in to get my purse and that’s when out of nowhere, that truck came and ... Oh God, I’m responsible for all this!” she broke down sobbing.

I took both her hands in mine and moved around to face her squarely. “Martina, look at me,” I said. She slowly raised her face and I could see it was wet with tears. I took the napkin off the table and gently wiped some of the tears away while I talked to her.

“Martina, what happened was an accident, plain and simple. None of us wanted to be there at that specific time and none of us wanted to get into that accident. You certainly couldn’t have seen what was going to happen. And I have gotten past it. Actually, the accident was a blessing in surprise – I got a job that keeps me closer to home with better pay and best of all, it allowed me to meet you!” I said, smiling at her and squeezing her hands gently.

“Oh Robert! You are an amazing man. Something like this would make most people bitter and hateful to anyone they can associate with their troubles. Yet here I am telling you it was my fault, and you brush it off like I made you drop your keys or something! I don’t know whether to kiss you for being so sweet or be mad at you for not giving me what I deserve!” she said.

“Well if it makes any difference, my vote would be on the kiss!” I said jokingly.

Her face softened and she smiled a bit. “Yeah mine too,” she said almost too soft to hear. But I did hear it.

I had noticed in holding her hands she had no ring on, so I decided to take a chance. “Martina, would you like to have dinner with me? I mean if you don’t have to get home to someone special or something,” I asked.

“I’d like that very much, Robert,” she said. So I stood up and offered her my hand, pulling her to her feet gently. We then walked to the front counter where I paid for our coffees and we left the coffee shop. Martina told me her car was in the shop and she had taken a cab to the coffee shop so that helped with the logistics of having two cars to move around. I took her to my car and seated her in the passenger’s seat while I took my place in the driver’s seat.

“Well I’m glad to see that you can still drive Robert,” she said.

“Yeah, fortunately it was my left leg that got hurt. If it had been my right leg, it would be a lot harder,” I said.

“Does it still ... hurt?” she asked, cautiously.

“No, not anymore. Actually it didn’t hurt that much at all. Well except for when I started getting fitted for the leg, that was a little tough walking on the stump, still being a bit tender. But it only lasted a little bit. Now I only have an occasional phantom pain once in a while,” I told her.

“Phantom pain?” she asked.

“Yeah, a phantom pain is a feeling that your leg itches or something ... as if it’s still there,” I said, “Of course it isn’t and it’s all mental, but those things will disappear completely eventually, the doctors tell me. I only get them once in a while now. They are more annoyance than real pain.”

“Well that’s good to know,” she said.

“I hope you like barbeque,” I said, hoping I was right. “There’s this great barbeque place I like going to that has the best ribs and pulled pork ever!”

“Barbeque is fine. I like barbeque too,” she said.

We pulled into Chubby’s BBQ Shack a short while later and I found us a table in a relatively quiet corner away from the bar area. “I’ve never been here, so I will leave it up to you to order, since you know what’s good here,” she said. So when the waitress came over I ordered us the Pig-Out Platter for two and a pitcher of sweet tea.

“The Pig-Out Platter has a little bit of everything ... beef ribs, chicken, pulled pork, brisket, smoked sausage and pork loin. I always have the platter for one and I walk away stuffed! But it is just too damn good to not finish everything!” I told her.

“Sounds wonderful,” she said. The waitress started us off with our sweet tea and we talked for a bit, getting to know each other a little. I learned that Martina was 25 years old – two years younger than I was. She was an only child, born from fairly well-to-do parents. My own family was more middle class by comparison, and I have a younger sister the same age as Martina, who was now married with a kid of her own.

She was from Colorado originally, while I was born and raised in the Los Angeles area. I found out that she had never been married (a fact I found difficult to believe!) but she had been engaged once. Stupid guy! Myself, I hadn’t found the girl I wanted to commit to like that yet.

As we compared our pasts, I found myself liking this woman more and more. I found her fascinating as well as drop dead gorgeous. We talked and had a very nice dinner together. After we reached the point where neither of us dared to take another bite, we asked the waitress for a box to bring home the leftovers. As I was paying the bill for dinner, Martina excused herself to visit the ladies room and we left the restaurant.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, I turned to my dinner companion. “So where can I take you? Where do you live?” I asked.

“Actually Robert, if you don’t have to go home yourself, can we just go for a drive someplace? I really don’t feel like rushing home to an empty house right now,” she said.

“Sure,” I said, happy to spend more time in the company of my lovely dinner date. So I pointed the car towards Santa Monica, figuring the beach at sunset was a pretty good bet when you have a beautiful woman you want to impress! It took us about 30 minutes to get to the Santa Monica Pier and by the time we got there the place was pretty much emptied out.

I found us a parking place close to the pier and we got out and walked to the end of the pier. It was nice, we held hands and walked out to the end just as the sun was beginning to set. It was a little windy coming right off the ocean like that, so I offered her my jacket and I wrapped my arms around her from behind. As we stood there watching the ocean and listening to the sounds, Martina lay her head on my shoulder and pulled my arms around her tighter.

She felt wonderful, so soft and so warm. The breeze would generously grant me a whiff of her sweet perfume and the smell of her hair. I silently prayed that the sun would hang up in the sky a little longer. But the sun had other places to be I guess, and it sank slowly out of sight. As soon as the orange ball dipped below the horizon she turned to face me.

I held the beautiful creature in my arms as she looked up into my face. Her eyes darted back and forth as I felt her holding her breath as if waiting for something. “I think this would be a good time to collect that kiss,” I told her, and I leaned down to kiss her. Just before our lips touched I heard a nearly imperceptible “Yes” from her.

Her kiss was tentative at first, as if unsure her kiss would be returned. But when I kissed her back and she felt my arms holding her tightly to me, she melted into my embrace and moaned softly into my mouth. Martina’s kiss tasted sweeter than I could have imagined. I felt her lips part slightly and I took the invitation, slipping my tongue out of my mouth and into hers, seeking her tongue to play with.

Martina’s arms went up around my neck and she drew me down further, her kiss becoming more passionate and even a little urgent. I sensed this was something she needed as much as it was something she wanted. I knew it was something I wanted, and I enjoyed every moment of our tenderness. Then just as our kiss was becoming serious and passionate, she stopped and pulled back.

“Robert,” she gasped, “Please take me home ... to your place,” she said.

“Are you sure?” I asked her. I didn’t want to take advantage of her if she wasn’t sure of what she was doing.

“Robert darling, do you remember when I went to the ladies room as you were paying for dinner?” she asked.

“Yeah, why?”

Well, sweetie,” she leaned in close, “I’m not wearing any panties!” she whispered playfully.

I didn’t argue. I pointed the car towards home and drove as fast as the speed limit would allow. Growing up my whole life in the L.A. area, I knew my way around pretty good and I certainly knew how to get home from Santa Monica – I had spent a lot of time there when I was younger. So I knew how to get from point A to point B in the shortest time possible.

“Robert, I hope you don’t think that I am some sort of slut or that this is somehow my way of making up to you what happened. I really like you and for some reason this feels right to me,” she said, looking down and fidgeting with her hands as I drove. I knew she was feeling a bit uneasy about this sudden turn of events, so I put my hand on her thigh to try to comfort her a little.

“Martina, those thoughts never entered my mind. I like you as well and I am glad of what happened because it brought us together. We might never have met had it not been for that accident that day. And as for my saving your life, well in a way you saved mine as well.”

“How so?”

“Well, before the accident I was a trucker. I drove all over the country and was never in one spot for too long. Believe me, it’s not as romantic as it sounds. I was hardly ever home, I slept in my truck probably 300 days out of the year. I had no social life or friends really since I was never around long enough. I just had a few fellow truckers I would talk to on the radio and in emails, but I never met most of them. And I wasn’t real happy with the company anyway – they treated us truckers like crap.