“Right,” she agreed easily, knowing what I must be feeling after my most recent encounter with Danny. “What are you in the mood for, distraction or a pep talk?”
Thinking I would rather not talk about the weirdness that was Danny at all at that moment, I opted for door number one. “Distraction. Save the pep talk for later, I’ll probably need it. If you’ve already got some lines prepared, you might want to jot them down on your mental note pad so you don’t forget.”
I watched as she turned her head down and away from me, reached in her bag, pulled out her iPhone, and started typing.
We were right in the middle of a conversation. What the hell?
Wondering what shiny object had distracted her now, I questioned, “What are you doing?”
She didn’t even look up, but instead deadpanned, “My memory’s not what it used to be.”
Oh, Jesus H. Christ. She was making a real note in her iPhone about things to say for a later pep talk.
Only Allison.
“I appreciate your taking the postponed pep talk seriously, but could you put it on hold and get on with the distracting, Mom? Distraction is priority one and right now you’re kind of doing a shitty job.”
“Right, right,” she muttered, dropped her phone back in her back, and then sunk her toes into the sand, wiggling them around so that the fine granules settled and dispersed properly.
Getting on with her job, she questioned, “So...back on the road tomorrow. Where are we headed?”
That was an unbelievably good question and something I had been mulling over all morning. I knew we would want to hit Colorado, as it was completely unavoidable in a quest for KA men, and then there were some other things I had always wanted to see.
The Grand Canyon. Las Vegas. The Pacific Ocean.
I knew that would mean an awful lot of driving, but if you wanted the rewards life had to offer, you had to put in the effort.
And certain kinds of beauty, nature’s bounty and the love of a good man, for example, were worth the hard work the gift of experiencing them required.
“I’m thinking we go to Denver first. What KA hero search would be complete without a visit to Denver?”
Unfortunately, Carnal wasn’t a real place or we would be going there too. What a crying shame.
Looking over at Allison, I saw that she was nodding her head in ascent, but her eyes were all glazed again. Visualizing the hot guys of Denver, no doubt.
“After that, I’m thinking we make the long haul, hit the Grand Canyon, Vegas, and then make sure we dip our toes in the Pacific Ocean,” I continued. “Sound good?”
When Allison did nothing but nod again, I knew she really was wiped out. “Geez, I really did wear you out last night, huh?”
The nod returned, but this time, it was accompanied by a pitiful whimper.
“Jesus, we’re going to have to do some training before Vegas. It’ll be like the World Series compared to the little league of last night.” I paused for a second, and then hedged, “Maybe not even little league. More like tee ball.”
Her eyes rounded, her skin paled, and another, stronger whimper bubbled out of her throat.
At the sight of her terror, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. I could feel the fine morsels of sand shifting around in my bathing suit as my body shook, and sweet Jesus, did that make me want a shower.
Gross.
“Don’t worry, Mamalicious. We’ll make sure to fit in plenty of relaxation too.”
And if we met men we wouldn’t be so quick to leave.
Shit, I wasn’t all fired up to leave here, but that was life.
That night, I was researching our drive on my computer, freshly showered with my wet hair falling heavily down my back.
“Holy shit, Madre. It’s going to take a hell of a long time to get to Colorado. We’re going to have to stop overnight tomorrow in Texas.”
Allison shrugged her shoulders and responded, “Whatever. That’s fine. We’ll stop whenever we want to, Haley. The trip is supposed to be fun. No need to put pressure on ourselves to drive it in a certain amount of time.”
She was absolutely right. “True fucking story, Allison. How’d you get so smart?”
She shrugged again, one corner of her mouth lifting upward. “Not sure. It sure as hell isn’t the time I’m spending with you.”
Ouch! And from my own mother!
Laughing hysterically, she walked over to me, kissed the top of my head, and murmured, “I’m just kidding, baby girl. You know how unbelievably bright you are.”
Without any further ado, she turned and left me, gathering up her stuff and organizing her suitcase so that she would be ready to go in the morning.
My mom was the master of that. Seamlessly inserting gargantuan compliments into conversation. They were so well executed that you almost didn’t notice them, whether they were following a disingenuous insult or just spoken like everyday thoughts. But they were like the Wizard of Oz, working their magic behind the curtain, building you up, bolstering your self-esteem, and generally turning you into the best version of yourself.
I could have easily taken it for granted, but I knew a lot of people didn’t get there from their parents. I may have only had one parent, but she was a hell of a good one.
Slowly getting up from the desk where my computer was, I headed for my bag to get a ponytail holder. I needed to wash my face, and once again the day’s harrowing events had caused a hair tie casualty.
Throwing my head forward, bending in half at the waist, and sending my hair up and over my head, I used both of my hands to bunch it together, making sure to get all of the hair that had a tendency to stick to the back of my neck. Straightening back to full height, I held the bunch of hair with my right hand, pulled the hair tie off of that wrist with my left hand, and secured my hair at the crown of my head.
I was sauntering toward the bathroom when I heard a song start to play throughout the room. It took me a minute, but I finally recognized it as “My Sacrifice” by Creed.
What the hell?
I looked to Allison to see that she was just as perplexed as I was, scanning the room with her eyes to find the source.
I quickly jumped into action, leading the investigation by checking all electronic things first. When I came up empty at the TV, clock radio, and room phone, the music stopped. And then started again.
I looked back at my computer on the desk, found that to be innocent, and then quickly tried to play “follow-the-sound”. When I got to my pink tote bag and dug inside, it became hideously clear that the music was coming from my phone.
You would think I would have checked that sooner, but this was not my ringtone. With as many cell phones as there were out there these days, attached to all sorts of body parts in all sorts of manners, I had trained myself to only perk up at the sound of my specific ringtone (“Cruise” by Florida Georgia Line, programmed specifically for this trip).
As I swiped to answer, I looked at the screen, saw that it was Danny, and muttered a disbelieving, “How in the hell does he do these things?”
I brought the phone to my ear and heard Danny’s soft chuckle. The one that said he thought I was funny. Obviously, he had heard at least the tail end of my rhetorical question.
“What’s up, Danny?” I asked, eager to find out why he was already calling me.
He paused briefly and then responded, “Just wanted to talk to you, Hales. I tried to be okay with not knowing where you’re going tomorrow, but...well...I just wasn’t.”
Wow. Instantly, my heart was thudding violently in my chest, the intensity somewhat akin to a hammer trying to pound its way out, but before I did anything else, I knew I had to find somewhere else to talk. I shared everything with Allison, but talking on the phone with someone, especially someone I was crushing on a little, was not something I wanted to do while sitting right next to her.
“Can you hold on a minute?” I asked into the phone. Danny muttered a, “Sure,” so I turned to Allison,
covered the bottom of the phone with the heel of my hand and told her, “I’m going to go down and sit on the beach. I’ll be back.”
My mom nodded frantically, her hand doing a flapping wave that said, “Go, go. It’s fine.”
I took her cue, not wasting any time double checking, swiped the key card off of the dresser, and took off out the door.
As I walked I told Danny, “I’m just going down to the beach. Mind if I call you back when I get down there? I might lose you in the elevator anyway if I don’t.”
Wait a second. Who was this girl? And what had she done with me?
Tied me up somewhere and gagged me, apparently.
Not even giving him a chance to answer, I just hung up. I didn’t need to ask effing permission. Now, I could have explained that to him and changed my tune, but Jesus, that would have been so long winded and full of effort. Hanging up was much easier.
This would be a good test to see how well he thought he knew me after our limited time together.
Half jogging, half skipping, I made short work of the hall, punched the call button for the elevator, practically jumped inside when it dinged open, and then pushed the “L” button for lobby repeatedly. I knew it wouldn’t make the elevator operate any faster, but that didn’t stop me.
The doors eventually closed, allowing the car to coast gracefully down six floors to the lobby. I speed walked out, tucked my head so I didn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes in my relatively skimpy pajamas, and then went out the doors on the back of the hotel.
As I went by the pool, I grabbed a towel from the little hut. It was totally “illegal”, or in breach of hotel rules, but there was no way I was going to sit directly on the sand in my pajamas.
Whatever. If hotel management caught me, I would just have to make sure I went down fighting. If I was going to end up in the slammer on this trip, it was going to be for something more serious than after hours towel “borrowing”.
I semi-ran all the way to the beach, my breathing turning ragged due to lack of exercise, fluffed my contraband towel out in front of me, and then gracelessly collapsed into a heaving, sweaty mess on my back, my face pointed up toward the stars.
I took a few moments to compose myself, swiped my phone open, went into recent calls, and hit Danny’s name to call him back.
When his voice came over the line, it was what I would describe as a good-tempered growl. “I’m not real fond of being hung up on, Hales.”
I opted for the doe-eyed-innocence act. “Oh? I’m sorry. I come by it honestly. My brother does the same thing. Just hangs up mid-conversation.”
“Hales.”
Okay, so he wasn’t falling for the innocent act. I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t that great of an actress.
“Alright, fine. I was just being a little too accommodating and that was the only way to balance the scales.”
“I figured as much. You sounded a little too sweet. Thought I accidentally called the other Haley in my phonebook.”
A little shocked squeak sounded in the night, and then I realized it was me. I was the thing that was squeaking. “There’s another Haley in your phonebook?” The indignation in my voice was downright palpable.
He burst out laughing, but somehow managed an explanation around his mirth. “No, baby. If you want the truth, I’m pretty sure there are five names in my phonebook, maximum.”
“Not many friends then, huh?” I questioned.
There was a pause, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it was pretty heavy with meaning.
“My inner circle is kept pretty tight...sometimes unbearably so,” he murmured, the volume of his voice tapering off as he went. “And I tend to limit making friends to a night to night basis at the bar.”
Oh.
I was pretty sure “making friends” was code for something else altogether, but I kept it to myself.
I focused on something else instead.
“But not me?” I asked, voice serious, eyes scanning the clear sky.
“No, Hales. Not you.”
The silence enveloped me, but I could still feel him there, on the other end of the line. Maybe it was the soft whisper of his breathing, or maybe it was some otherworldly, indescribable connection, but whatever it was, it was like I was tethered to him.
“Tell me something about you that no one else knows,” I instructed him, point blank, no leading into it whatsoever.
“Jesus, Hales. Don’t start off with anything easy. Christ,” he griped.
“Oh, just do it, you big baby,” I teased haughtily.
“Well, I’ve been called a lot of things, but I’m pretty sure no one has called me a big baby before.”
He would know. He would remember if they had.
“They obviously weren’t familiar with your whining ways,” I explained. Then, because I was wondering, I queried, “Do you say things like that just to normalize yourself?”
“Things like what?” he asked.
“Things like the words “pretty sure” when you’re referring to a memory. I’m pretty sure there’s no “pretty” about it. You and that elephant brain are sure.”
“Yeah, I guess I do,” he responded.
Satisfied that I had gotten enough out of him to confirm one of my observations, I got back to the issue at hand. “Good. Now, tell me your deepest, darkest secrets.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, obviously still annoyed at my demands and stalling for time with all that he had.
I decided he was taking too long and beat him to the punch. “Jesus, Danny. You really are being a baby. I’ll go first.” Mustering all of the confidence I could find, digging down deep and even fishing around in a few imaginary pockets, I told him, “I generally don’t care what anyone thinks of me. But....I’m afraid that one day, my family is going to wake up and be disappointed in me. My choices...maturity level...my somewhat mediocre lifestyle.”
“Hales—” he started.
But I cut him off. “No. Danny, I didn’t say that for pity or even because I think I’m going to have some sort of revelation and change my ways. Trust me, I’m stuck this way. Overbearing, over-exaggerated, and in your face. I just said it because no one knows it.” I took a breath, closed my eyes, and said, “But now, you do.”
Danny heaved a deep breath, and then dove right in, taking the pressure off of me immediately.
“I feel like I’ve been waiting for someone like you...foul mouthed, brutally honest, and downright genuine...frustrating. God, you can be frustrating, but...well, I feel like I’ve been waiting for your friendship for most of my life.”
Five minutes into our conversation and I felt like I knew Danny better than I knew 95 percent of my friends. Quite frankly, I was surprised by how forthright he was. I had used my usual approach, skewering him with a really honest, personal secret, but I had expected a typical man’s answer in response. Something along the lines of I jerk off in the shower every day. Or something just as fake and meaningless.
But no, he had given me a genuine answer. And that got me thinking.
There was a beauty in getting to know someone over the phone. It was safer when you didn’t have to look someone in the eye; it allowed for more honesty. Plus, it was so easy to get lost in someone in the beginning. The look and feel of them overwhelming your senses and skewing your thoughts away from issues of substance. Over the phone, the only physical gratifications were that of memory and sound, the focus easily finding its rightful place among thoughts, philosophies, and values rather than looks, touches, and sensory pleasures.
Maybe it would be nice to be away from him physically. The reward of getting to know him on a much more personal level might just be worth it.
And I had met him in person, laid my eyes on him several times in fact, so I wouldn’t end up on that show Catfish, only to find that my new best friend was actually a five foot one inch Mexican-American woman looking to fill the voids of her life by tricking me into a fake relationship.
Good news.
“You’re
unusually quiet,” Danny cut into my thoughts.
“Just thinking, Dan-o. I try to do it at least once a week,” I teased.
“You try to think once a week?” he asked for confirmation.
“Yeah, any more often than that, it gets in the way of fun.”
I could hear the smile in his voice as he murmured, “Fair enough.” After a brief pause he added, “That also explains some of your behavior.”
I laid on my towel, phone to my ear, eyes to the sky, and feet flexed and wiggling back and forth for close to an hour. Danny and I talked about mostly nothing. I told him our travel plans and he teased me with some things to look out for when suitors approached me.
It was the most fun I had had just talking to someone in a long time. And I laughed a whole heck of a lot.
When I finally hung up, after a promise from him that he would call me, and got back up to the room, Allison was passed out cold. I quietly packed my bag and made sure everything was as it should be for tomorrow, and then laid my head down on my pillow, tucked my hands in prayer position under it, and fell asleep with a smile on my face and peace in my mind.
WHEN WE LEFT the next morning, someone made the God-awful decision to wait and stop at a McDonald’s on the road for our first Coke of the day rather than preparing one at the hotel. I didn’t want to name names, mostly because I tried to avoid pointing the finger at myself, but yeah, I really screwed the pooch.
“Where in the hell is this Mickey D’s?” Allison pleaded. “I’m losing my ever loving mind.” Her eyes were wild in a way that I rarely saw.
She was a little hysterical, but I really couldn’t blame her. We had been driving for many, many miles and far too many minutes without our sustaining life force. For many people, this was something named “Coffee”, but not us.
And we couldn’t stop at some other place for Coke. McDonald’s had a good one. We had extremely high tuned Coke palates from years of taste testing and you didn’t just abandon that knowledge. Even in a time of need.
“I know, I’m trying—” I told her as I finally saw an approaching exit sign with the golden arches logo on it. “Shit! I’ve got one!” I screamed and swerved dangerously from the far left lane all the way over to the exit and off.
A Is for Alpha Male Page 10
