by Louise, Tia
“I’ll text you.”
Sadness like ice water trickles through my chest as I disconnect. My eyes drift back to JR, and I wonder what the heck I’m doing.
This journey was impulsive and crazy. Scout said it was meant to be, but meant to be what? A three-day trip where we shared our darkest moments, escaped a crazy tent revival, talked about our dreams… And kissed?
My eyes slide shut. JR’s kiss shook me to the core. So aggressive and demanding, so much pent up passion and need and hunger. I felt it all the way to my toes.
I want to do it again and again.
“Everybody okay at home?” I blink out of my daydream to find Scout’s eyes on mine in the mirror.
“Oh, yeah. Yars was worried, but it’s all good.”
“I’m sure they miss you.” JR’s voice is quiet.
“Thank you.” I can’t tell if he meant it as a compliment, but I’m going to take it as one.
I give him a smile, and he shifts in his seat, looking away.
That hurts.
“Should be there in two hours,” Scout says. “What’s our first stop?”
“Becky.” It’s a flat reply.
My stomach should not twist unpleasantly when he says his ex-wife’s name. I shouldn’t care that she’s the first stop he wants to make.
But I do.
“Home it is.” His brother nods.
“No…” JR frowns at him. “I want to see my son first.”
“Wait…” Scout cuts his eyes. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?” It’s more like a growl.
Scout looks like he swallowed a goldfish, and I lean back against the seat. I’m afraid to hear what he thought his brother knew. It doesn’t look good.
He forces a reassuring smile. “Maybe we should stop for breakfast, stretch our legs.”
“Maybe you’d better tell me what you thought I knew.”
Scout’s chin dips. “She remarried.”
My heart beats faster, but to his credit, John nods as if he doesn’t care.
“I expected as much. Hell, I figured she was seeing somebody when she sent those divorce papers so fast.”
His brother’s expression is somber, almost like he’s waiting.
Home. Scout said home…
John glances at him and then appears to have the same realization I have at the same time. “If she remarried, why is she at our home?”
“I think we should stop and get some coffee.”
“Would you stop acting like an old lady?” JR’s voice is sharp.
His brother’s eyes drop again, and the car slows. We exit at a blue interstate sign that says Prizzy’s Diner. “I bet they have good coffee at this place.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
He keeps going, and in less than two minutes we’re pulling up to a Route 66-style roadside diner. I half expect waitresses in poufy skirts and roller skates to greet us.
Exiting the vehicle fast, JR is right behind his brother.
“Scout?” JR pulls his arm, and Scout meets his eyes.
I climb out slower, watching with wide eyes, not sure if I should wait or follow.
“It’s Dad, man. She married Dad.”
Jr
Air leaves my lungs as memories filter through my mind. How long was this going on? Were they together before I left? Was this why he set me up? It’s a kaleidoscope of moments in my mind, and anger is a ticking time bomb in my chest.
I leave Scout and Hope at the car, and step inside the glass-walled diner.
A petite, brown-skinned woman in a kitten mask greets me. “Welcome to Prizzy’s! Table for three?”
I nod, and she grabs three huge, plastic-covered menus, leading us to a booth in the middle of the restaurant.
Scout and Hope slide into the seat across from me, and a waitress quickly walks up.
“Three coffees?” Her voice is bored and muffled, but I don’t look at her.
Scout answers. “Yeah, thanks.”
“I’ll give you a minute to look at the menu.” She’s gone, and I stare at the oversized pictures of eggs, bacon, and toast on plates.
Scout and Hope are looking at me. “You okay, bro?”
The whirlwind of memories of times when we were all together starts to dissipate, and in its place comes something strange. A cold band of iron tightens across my chest, and my throat feels hot. My brain feels a little loose, and I can’t decide if I want to punch someone or flip the table.
“Three coffees.” The waitress reappears setting the thick mugs in front of us. “Have you decided what you want or still need a minute?”
The menu is in my hand, and I haven’t even looked at it.
I look at her name tag. “Heidi, is it?”
“Yes, sir!” Her eyes meet mine, and her chin pulls back. I think she sees I’ve lost it a little bit.
“I want you to bring us everything on the menu. Can you do that?”
“I don’t understand…”
“We want it all.” My voice rises a bit louder. “Bring us one of these Western frittatas… and some of these… Huevos rancheros, and what’s this? Chipped beef on toast? That sounds good. And wow, eggs Benedict. Fancy. And pancakes. Check it out, Hope. They have pancakes. We can do a comparison taste test.”
“I don’t want pancakes.” Hope’s voice is soft, her eyes round with worry.
“She doesn’t want pancakes.” I look up at Heidi again. “How about you bring her the chicken and waffles. Scout can try the blueberry pancakes.”
“So you want the Western frittata, the huevos rancheros, chipped beef on toast, eggs Benedict, blueberry pancakes, and chicken and waffles?” Heidi reads her pad back to me so fast, I’m impressed.
“And one of these mixed fruit plates. To be healthy.”
“You got it, sir. Can I get y’all anything else?” She looks at Scout and Hope, who are both staring at me with wide eyes and parted lips.
“Ah, no.” Scout quickly takes the menus and pushes them towards her. “Thanks.”
I take the cloth-wrapped silverware off the table and unroll it, putting the napkin in my lap and the flatware beside my mug.
My brother’s voice is low. “Are you okay?”
“Yep.”
“You ordered everything on the menu.”
I nod slowly, my eyes on the fake wood tabletop. “You said you were hungry. Hell, we haven’t had a decent meal in three days.”
“Eating everything in sight isn’t a decent meal. It’s more like… a binge.” He’s still watching me. Hope hasn’t said a word… other than she doesn’t want pancakes. “What are you thinking right now?”
His question makes me think, which makes me want to laugh. “What am I thinking?” I lift my chin and meet his eyes. “I’m thinking about my last day in Fireside, the morning I left for San Francisco almost two years ago…”
Jesse ran into the bedroom in his Iron Man pajamas, and Becky exhaled some complaint. She was lying on her side with her back to me. We hadn’t slept together since he was born. She was always too tired or not in the mood or she had cramps.
My jaw tightens, and I realize she wasn’t sleeping with me because she was sleeping with…
“Here you go!” Heidi’s voice cuts my train of thought. A stout Latino busboy is with her, and he starts unloading plate after plate. “That there’s the frittata… and we have the huevos rancheros, the eggs benedict… We were out of the beef tips on toast, so I substituted corned beef hash. I hope that’s okay…”
Plates fill the table, and I finally dare to look at Hope. Her eyes are still round, but the shock is gone. Now she’s looking at me in a way that makes my chest tight and my appetite disappear.
Heidi straightens, putting her hands on her hips. “Can I get you anything? Coffee refills?”
Scout holds up a hand. “I think we have enough. Thanks, Heidi.”
We all sit in front of the feast, staring at the steaming plates of poached eggs covered in bright orange hollandaise
or red-brown corned beef with green peppers and bits of potato.
The scrambled eggs in the frittata are a sunny yellow, and the waffles are thick and fluffy with dark fried chicken on top. Heidi even brought us buttermilk biscuits.
The scents blend together, and I feel slightly nauseated.
Taking up my fork, I scoop up a bit of the corned beef and put it in my mouth. I quickly stab the huevos rancheros and put a forkful in my mouth. I cut the side off a blueberry pancake and shove it in as well.
My cheeks are full, but the food has no taste. My throat is tight, but I force myself to swallow. All this food. All this food and all this hate and all this anger and all these lies…
So many lies.
Pushing back on the table, I take one last look at the massive spread and slide out of the booth.
I reach into my pocket and dig out the rest of my money, hoping it’s enough to cover all this. I toss it on the table and turn, heading for the doors.
Scout calls after me, but I’m moving fast. The windows of the Impala are down, and I lean through the passenger’s side, swiping the half-empty bottle of whiskey off the floorboard and heading for the sparse forest.
Thin pine trees rise around me, and we’re close enough to the shore that sand is under my boots. I don’t know where I’m going. I need to get away from everything so I can breathe.
I don’t know where I am or even how far I’ve walked. I’m in the middle of nowhere, and the trees are thicker, their branches coming together to form a dim alcove. I stop and put one hand on the trunk of a tree before sliding down to sit on the ground.
Pine needles cover sand here. I bend a knee and pull the cork-lined top off the whiskey. Putting the bottle to my lips, I tilt it up and take a long pull.
It burns like fire going down my throat. My eyes squint shut, and I exhale a growl. Damn, them.
I do it again, taking a longer pull, and this time when my eyes open, I see her standing there. Like a beam of sunlight or an iridescent angel, Hope steps quietly through the trees in those white cowboy boots I bought for her.
She comes to where I’m sitting and lowers to a squat, taking the bottle from my hand and replacing the cap. She puts it on the ground beside me and reaches out to slide her fingers through my hair, moving it off my forehead with her thumb.
“Are you okay?” Her voice is gentle.
I don’t answer her right away. I gaze at her blue eyes so warm, so full of concern. Her light hair falls in gentle waves around her cheeks. She’s so pretty.
My voice is dry when I speak. “No.”
“You have every right to be upset.”
I think about it. I do have the right to be upset. My father stole my life. He kept me away from my son…
“Are you still in love with her?” Hope’s voice is quiet, tentative, and my eyes lock on hers.
“No.” I say it with conviction.
Any love I had left for Becky died when those divorce papers showed up. Learning she’s with my dad just makes my reasons for coming back more specific and more focused.
I couldn’t give a shit about them. I only want my son.
Her hand moves from my hair to my shoulder. “What are you feeling?”
Lifting my eyes, I feel hot blood in my veins, and I feel tired of fighting.
“Come here.” Reaching out, I catch her by the waist, pulling her onto my lap in a straddle.
She doesn’t fight me, resting her slim arms on my shoulders. I pull her closer, resting my face against her neck like I’ve wanted to do so many times, and just breathe. God, it feels so good.
Soft lips touch my brow, and I’m surrounded by coconut and flowers and hope eternal.
With my eyes closed, I slide my hands around her waist, pulling her closer against me, her soft body flush against my hard chest. Her knees rock forward onto the soft sand, and I lift my chin, searching for her mouth.
She cups my cheeks, and our lips seal together. It’s a match striking. Pushing hers apart, I’m hungry for her kiss. Our tongues meet and curl. She tastes good like fresh coffee mixed with the sharp sting of whiskey.
My hands drop to her thighs, and I slide them higher, under her dress to the line of her panties. I grasp her soft ass and squeeze, dragging her slowly up my lap, over my hardened dick in my pants.
“John…” She gasps, kissing my cheek, my temple.
It’s all the encouragement I need. Moving my hands to her hips, I rip her panties away then push my fingers between her thighs, circling her clit as she rises higher, panting in my ear.
“Oh, God, oh…” She moans, riding my hand.
I’ve got to get these jeans off.
I reach down to unfasten my pants. She quickly unbuttons my shirt, grasping and pushing the fabric away. Her palms slide over my chest, followed by her lips.
We’re driven by lust and need and hunger. My jeans slip down and her fingers wrap around my cock, not quite touching.
Blue eyes rise to mine, and her nose wrinkles. “So big…”
Her head lowers to my lap, and I groan loudly as her hot little mouth closes over my tip, sucking and pulling.
“Oh, fuck.” I twist and writhe, doing my best not to thrust it down her throat.
Her head bobs fast, and her tongue slides up and down, teasing the ridges. She comes off with a pop, while her fist pumps my shaft.
Her smile is naughty, and her hair is messy, her full lips swollen and glistening.
“Wait…” I’m going to come too fast at this rate.
Digging frantically for my wallet… why didn’t I think of this before? I don’t even know if I have a condom. Shit.
“Hang on.” She sits up on my legs and pulls off her boot, turning it over. What looks like a gold coin drops out, and she scoops it off the sand, cleaning it with her dress.
My eyes are wide, and my dick is aching. She’s gotten me right to the edge. “What are you doing with a condom?”
“I bought it at the gas station.” She peeks up at me. “I thought I might get lucky last night… But I didn’t.”
Grabbing her waist, I pull her against me again, rougher this time. “You’re about to get lucky now. You’re about to get fucked hard.”
Her eyes flare, and she grins. “You weren’t supposed to be listening to that.”
My hands slide to her shoulders, raking those straps down her arms so I can palm her bare breasts. They’re perfect handfuls, her nipples tight and straining. Pulling one into my mouth, I give it a firm suck while I tweak the other with my fingertips.
Her back arches as she threads her fingers in my hair, rocking her hot little core against my aching cock. “Mmm… yes.”
“Give it to me.” It’s a rough order.
She puts the coin in my hand, and I twist it apart, quickly rolling it on as she traces her lips along the top of my ear, against my neck. Sizzles of pleasure race through my shoulders.
Lifting my chin, I capture her mouth with mine, gliding our tongues together as I lift her, lowering her onto my rock-hard erection.
“Oh!” She lets out a startled cry, and my mind blanks. Jesus, she feels so good, so damn tight.
For a minute, I’m afraid I hurt her. She’s breathing fast, and we’re still as she takes a moment. Then she starts to move.
Her hips roll forward like a dancer, sliding back and forth, picking up speed, and I close my eyes, tracing my fingers up the skin of her thighs. I’m certain it couldn’t feel better, then she rises on her knees, bringing me all the way to the tip and dropping again fast.
“Fuck…” I choke out, and she does it again.
I almost can’t focus. She’s so tight, bouncing on my cock, her small breasts teasing at my mouth. Leaning forward, I catch one in my lips, giving it a firm pull that causes her sweet little pussy to clench tighter around me.
It’s been so long, and this girl feels like heaven, drawing me to the edge with every unexpected movement. Clutching her soft ass in my hands, I grab her, moving her faster on my dick.
“Yes…” She murmurs, moving with me. “Keep doing that.”
I couldn’t stop if I wanted. My hips rise up to meet her, and she’s riding me, her moans growing more frantic. I can’t hold out much longer, and she slams her knees into the sand rising up as her body breaks into spasms. Her pelvis bucks with every movement, and her inner muscles clench and pull.
It’s so intense. My head drops back against the tree and I let go with a low groan. I’m driving higher, holding onto her like an anchor to the ground. My orgasm shakes my thighs, lifts me off the earth and sends me to the stars.
I’m weak as I start to come down. Hope’s cheek is against my forehead, and our chests are flush, skin against skin. It feels so good. Her arms are around my shoulders, and a bead of sweat traces down my neck.
Sliding my hands slowly up and down her back, I chuckle. “Why the hell did I wait so long to do that?”
Her body tightens with her laugh, and I reach between us, catching the edges of the condom before slipping out. I quickly take care of it, putting it aside before pulling her to me again.
“It was worth it.” She props an elbow on my shoulder, meeting my eyes. “I think the anticipation made it hotter.”
“So we should wait three days again?”
Her lips press into a small smile, and she looks down. “I don’t know. A lot can happen in three days.”
Reaching up, I cup her cheek in my hand, pushing her soft blonde hair behind her ear. I know what she’s thinking. It’s the same thing I’m thinking. We’ve reached our destination. This is where the journey ends.
Only… it’s not that simple. My part in all of this is more complicated than a three-day road trip, and I’ve got forces pulling me in both directions.
Curling my fingers in her hair, I guide her lips to mine for one more hit of my new favorite drug. It’s soft and sweet, with the faintest hint of whiskey.
Our eyes meet. “I hope we don’t.” It’s the best I can say at this point in the story.
Her smile is bittersweet, and I hate it.
I want to make promises. I want to tell her we never have to part, but I promised I’d never lie to her.
I have to follow this path to the end and deal with my shit before I can start fresh. If that’s even possible anymore.
