“What did I do?” Carolyn muttered. “What the hell did I just do?”

There were several cars stopped behind them. Lou gave the thumbs-up sign through Carolyn’s window, and the drivers slowly pulled out and drove away. Two of them paused long enough to say they had called 911.

“Lou … that taillight … I was so worried the missing light would cause an accident.…”

Her voice trailed away. She continued staring blankly out the windshield at the rain. Her hands, right at two o’clock, left at eleven, gripped the wheel tightly as though she were still driving. Lou took an umbrella from the rear floor and climbed out of the car. His left knee was stiff, and had probably taken a hit, but it was not nearly sore enough to keep him from tomorrow’s sparring session at the Stick and Move Gym. He took in several sharp breaths of chilly night air and tested the rest of his limbs. Nothing. Next, he made a quick circle around the Volvo. The damage appeared minimal. He waved to a driver who had slowed down, signaling that everything was okay. Then he climbed back into the car.

Whatever had possessed Carolyn seemed to be resolving. Her eyes were no longer glazed. Her hands had relaxed.

“Carolyn, the car should be okay to drive, but this time if it’s alright with you, I’ll do the driving.”

“That would be fine,” she said, still somewhat vaguely.

Lou patted her on the shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“Lou, what did I do?”

“Look, you experienced a major trauma back in the hospital. You weren’t thinking clearly. That’s all. It happens in extreme stress situations. A person just does something … something irrational. We see it in the ER all the time.”

He felt a flash of embarrassment at what might be construed as a reference to Carolyn’s husband.

“I was so worried about those taillights,” she said again as Lou gently separated her hands from the steering wheel. “What’s going to happen to me now?”

Before he could answer, a siren blared behind them, and then whined down into silence. The flash of blue strobe lights danced erratically inside the Volvo’s interior. Lou glanced in the side-view mirror to see a plus-sized police officer exit his vehicle and snap open an umbrella. The policeman sauntered over to the driver’s side of the car and shone a powerful flashlight beam through the rain-spattered window onto Carolyn’s face.

“Oh, goodness,” Carolyn said, gripping the wheel once again.

Lou set a cautioning hand on her arm. “Roll down your window and let me do the talking,” he whispered. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Carolyn did as he asked.

The officer, umbrella keeping them both dry, bent at the waist and poked his head inside the car. “Anybody hurt?” he asked. He spoke with a modest Southern drawl. His eyes, which Lou read as showing no threat, scanned the two of them with concern.

Carolyn immediately became more animated. “Oh, Gilbert. Thank goodness it’s you,” she said, talking without taking a breath. “This was all my fault. I … I was chasing down a car in front of us that had one broken taillight. I got so worried they were going to cause an accident, that I ended up having one myself.”