At the start of Spring Break, Wren and I set out for yet another dance competition, this time in New Jersey. Trying to cut back on the miles on my leased car, we took Arnauld’s car. Everything was going smoothly. We got on the road with plenty of time to get us to New Jersey, checked into our hotel, where Wren could prep for dancing, and then to the venue…

Then I heard a ding. Was that an alert? I scanned the dashboard. Low tire pressure?!? I turned off the audiobook I had turned on when Wren adjusted her seat into napping position. Did I hear any evidence of a flat tire? Nothing sounded emergent but of course, I went into full panic mode imagining every worst-case scenario.

I called my husband and explained what had happened. “Has this happened to you?” I asked, hoping this was just a car glitch. It had not happened before. He suggested pulling into a rest stop.

I hung up with Arnauld right after he insinuated that I was making a mountain out of a molehill. All my “what iffing” stirred Wren from her nap. I updated her on what was going on and her response was, “Just keep driving.”

Just then, I saw a sign for a rest area. I pulled over and held my breath as I took a quick look at all of the tires. There was no visible sign of a flat, but I wasn’t convinced. What if there was a slow leak? I took advantage of being parked and did a little Googling. I determined that I needed to add air to the tires. I watched a quick video on how to do that. “I can do that,” I told myself as I pulled back onto the highway, in search of a rest stop with an air machine.

We kept driving. Wren returned to her nap and my mind continued to whirl. Would I have to buy new tires? Would we make it to New Jersey? What if the tire just exploded?

We finally made it into New Jersey, around the same time that Wren decided she was hungry. I negotiated a promise of food if she helped me pump some air into the tires. We pulled into the first gas station off the exit and pulled up to the air machine. It looked nothing like the pump in the video I had watched and it required quarters I did not have. We left without air.

As we drove towards food, I saw what looked like a small garage. “Maybe they can help us,” I said to Wren, but more to myself. She wasn’t offering me much support. I pulled into a spot and approached a man I hoped worked at this garage. “Could you help me?” I asked, knowing my eyes probably looked desperate.

He directed me to move the car towards the side of the building where the air pump was. A kind gentleman met me, and proceeded to check each tire, with a gauge. One thing I did learn is that while my car and Arnauld’s car are made by the same manufacturer, my car tells you the tire pressure on the car dashboard-Arnauld’s does not. Each tire was low! The kind man didn’t think I had a leak but just needed to refill all the tires- which he proceeded to do.

When he was done, he reset the car’s alert, and I asked, “Can I pay inside?”

“The air is free,” he said.

And your kindness and my peace of mind are priceless I thought as I resisted the urge to hug this man and fished through my purse for some cash to leave him as a token of my appreciation.