He placed one hand on his steering wheel and thought about driving away. He imagined arriving at nine sharp, shaking hands with the hiring manager, and describing eight years of warehouse experience with the confidence he had practiced in the bathroom mirror. He imagined telling Lily that the interview had gone well. Then another picture entered his mind: the stranger standing alone while the morning grew colder, watching one car after another disappear into traffic.
Daniel shut off his engine. He took an old canvas tool roll from the trunk, closed the door, and crossed the parking area. The woman looked at him with surprise and immediate caution, as if she had not expected anyone to respond and now did not know whether responding was safe. Daniel stopped several feet away rather than approaching her too quickly.
"I can call somebody," she said, holding up her phone. "I already called roadside assistance."
"You did," Daniel answered. "But they aren't here. What happened when it stopped?"
"I turned into the parking area to check my directions. Then it wouldn't start again. The dashboard lit up, and there was this awful clicking." She glanced toward the highway. "I have to get to an appointment."
"So do I." He looked at the car rather than at her suit. "May I take a look?"
She hesitated, then moved aside. Daniel released the hood latch and examined the battery compartment with the careful familiarity of someone who had spent years making old vehicles last longer than they were supposed to. The battery was not obviously damaged. He checked the cable connections and found one terminal clamp loose enough to shift beneath his fingers. Greenish residue had gathered around the edge, and the connection had become unreliable.
"Are you a mechanic?" she asked.
"No. I run warehouses. Or I did, before I spent a while running a household full-time."
"Then how do you know what you're doing?"
Daniel gave the smallest shrug. "When your car is old and your budget is small, you learn a few useful things."
He loosened and reseated the clamp, cleaned the contact as well as he could with the basic supplies in his tool roll, then secured it firmly. He also checked that the other cable was seated properly. It was a simple roadside repair, not a guarantee that the battery and charging system needed no further attention. Daniel explained that distinction before asking her to try the ignition, because he disliked offering certainty he had not earned.
The engine turned over, hesitated, and came to life. The woman sat motionless behind the wheel for a moment. Then she leaned forward, pressed both hands against the steering wheel, and closed her eyes as though the sound of the engine had released something she had been holding together by will alone.
"It's running," she said, almost to herself.
"It is. Have the connection checked and the battery tested today. Don't assume a roadside fix is a permanent one."