Love is a Finite Experience

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Love is a Finite Experience Page 4

by B Anders


  "It's at the convention center, not the amusement park," Courtney corrected. "I want you to come with me as my guest."

  Harper stared silently at Courtney suddenly slack jawed at the suggestion.

  Courtney went on to explain, "Bill is picking up the tab. His kids are Graeme freaks, I guess. So, this year's executive management offsite event is at Graeme’s Planet."

  "Graeme’s World," it was Harper's turn to correct Courtney.

  "Whatever. I've never seen the cartoons." Courtney ignored Harper's gasp of horror to continue. "It's just an excuse to take the golf clubs, wives, and kids down to Florida on the company dime. All department and regional heads and their one downs will be there. They'll be rubbing shoulders with the board, showing off their pug nosed private school brats and their newest trophy wife. I get to go because, well because Bill and I have shared history."

  Harper snorted back a nasty remark.

  Courtney ignored the intent and continued, "Corporate booked me a double suite. They assumed I would be traveling with someone. Actually, this will be the last time they’ll book me a double.”

  "Why's that?" Harper asked. “You’re such a man-eater you couldn’t get a date to go along for free? Every guy in town got wise to your wicked ways?"

  "Because Patty OD'd six months ago."

  Harper was sure a normal person would ask for details or at least offer condolences, but she did neither. Instead, Harper just moved on to her next question.

  "Why do you want me to go with you to a corporate event in Graeme’s World, the funnest place in the galaxy, with a company I don't work for anymore? You fired me or don’t you remember that?"

  Courtney sighed, "Harper, you may not know this, but we have a lot in common. We both recently lost someone dear to us.”

  "Really? So, your brother, the only person in your life that you cared about died. Is that what happened to you? Is that how we're similar? Only Patty isn’t a man’s name, is it? Just because your fucked up girlfriend couldn’t say no to shooting shit into her veins, doesn’t mean we have the same grief festering. So don’t you fuckin’ stand here and tell me we have things in common because we don’t."

  Courtney grimaced slightly as if the words tasted bad, "Patty wasn’t my girlfriend. She was my twin.”

  For the first time in many years, Harper felt the weight of her own foul disposition. Recoiling from the malice of her own words, she responded with surprising clarity by apologizing. “Shit, I'm a friggin' asshole. Look, Courtney I was out of line...I'm really sorry." Harper paused for just a moment before explaining, "I'm sorry your sister died and for being a douche bag while you were trying to tell me about it. I had no right to say what I did."

  “It’s okay. I’m used to people not being sympathetic with an OD," Courtney waved off Harper’s comments without a second thought. "I spent so many years trying to save her. Patty had lots of issues, but she wasn’t a bad person. She tried to beat the addiction, get the monkey off her back. She was constantly in and out of rehab for the last ten years. If it wasn’t the drinking, it was the drugs or her no-good boyfriends beating the crap out of her. She just couldn’t say no. I tried so hard to reach out to her, get her to see that she had value as a person, but she still slipped away from me. No one wanted to come for the funeral. It was as if she didn’t matter, as if they were all glad she was no longer around because she was an embarrassment to the family. Because she was a junkie, she didn't matter to anybody. Just a fuckin’ useless piece of shit. But you know what? I loved her. I fuckin’ loved her. Why is that so hard for people to understand?"

  "It was the same with my brother," Harper heard her voice crack as her tears broke free. "He was different. He needed care twenty-four/seven, but I loved him so much it never felt like he was a burden. Sure, it was a ton of work, but he was worth every minute."

  "Was he in a hospital?"

  Harper shook her head no.

  "You took care of him here?" Courtney wrinkled her nose.

  Harper gave a proud smile. "His room is antiseptically clean. It's the attached in-law apartment. Separate entrance for the daytime caretakers. I almost never used this side of the house. My old bedroom is over on that side. But," Harper wiped a tear away. "I can't go back there with him gone."

  "I know how that feels."

  "Everybody says it must be a relief that he's gone. Well, it's not! It’s unbearable. Being without him is like walking around with your heart ripped out of your chest." Harper let a deep sob escape. "I'm just a gaping wound that won't heal."

  "Maybe," Courtney finally ventured, “We could help each other. Maybe together we’ll find a way to..." Courtney hesitated and flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. You don't want to hear this. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry I wasted your time. I’ll leave your keys and the thumb drive on the coffee table. If that is a coffee table. I can let myself out.”

  Harper watched for a moment as Courtney struggled to clear a spot to put the keys down.

  “I’ll go with you to Graeme’s World,” Harper blurted out before Courtney could push a pile of unopened mail out of the way.

  “Why would you want to do that, Harper?”

  “Because, you might be right. Talking it through with you might make things easier. I really want something to be easier in my life right now. I need a valve to vent out this pain I feel inside that nobody else understands. You might actually get it. But...”

  “But what?”

  Harper smiled sadly. "We can't fly. We need to drive there. I’m afraid of planes."

  "We have time, we could drive, I guess," Courtney replied.

  “You’re going to drive a loaner down to Orlando?”

  “Why not? It's mine for the week. The grunts at Corporate will arrange for the return. It’s no skin off my back.” Courtney paused a moment. "We'll have to figure out a way to get you back home. Train?"

  "Maybe. It would probably be okay to take a train back or rent a car or something." Harper was silent for a moment before she nodded. "Okay then it's settled. I don't have any excuse not to go with you."

  ***

  You kept staring at the cooler. We weren't supposed to take anything out on our own. But, Mom was snoring, and Dad's eyes were focused straight ahead on the traffic. I got it open without a sound. The pudding pack was right on top. When I eased it free, your smile was like a sunrise.

  "Really, I'm sure the hotel could pack us something," Courtney said before mumbling, "Something better than this."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Where's the fun in that?" Harper replied as she lovingly arranged the ice packs in the cooler for the fifth time. "Okay, this looks good. How are the sandwiches coming?"

  Courtney wrinkled her nose, "Well, I did them like you said. Two ham and bologna with mustard and horseradish, two tuna with tomato and two without, and four peanut butter and jelly. You do know I hate peanut butter." Courtney shook her head at a complete loss to understand the joy on Harper's face. "This is ridiculous. Can you just explain why we don't just eat out?"

  "It'll slow us down, and the road stops are a rip off," Harper said as she arranged the soda cans. “And what’s wrong with peanut butter?”

  “Everything is so wrong with peanut butter." Courtney paused to watch the packing, but could not stop herself from supervising. "You're going to put the Twinkies in, right?"

  Harper frowned. "Of course, you made me get them so I'll pack them. Even though they don't actually qualify as food."

  “Twinkies are so food. They were the only things keeping me alive in grad school and don’t forget the cupcakes. I'd have to kill you if you forgot the cupcakes, and that would defeat the purpose of the trip."

  “I won’t forget the cupcakes.” Harper replied with a smile in her voice. “God, is there anything you won’t do for a cupcake or a Twinkie?’

  Courtney laughed softly to herself as she cut the last sandwich.

  "What?" Harper asked. “Care to share the joke?”

  “We were
at this frat party once in college and Patty bet me a Twinkie I didn’t have the guts to go over and talk to this guy on the track team she had the biggest crush on.”

  “Well, did you?”

  “You crazy? I would walk through fire for a Twinkie, and this was a piece of cake. So I go over as cool as could be and chatted him up. You should have seen Patty’s eyes bulge out of their sockets when he asked me out, and I said no. He was the nicest guy and he took it exceptionally well when I explained it was a bet, but Patty refused to talk to me for a week.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he was gorgeous and she thought the least I could do for her was break his heart and pass him onto her. Patty liked the guys, a lot.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “Too busy for that, with my career in high gear, to lose focus on relationships. Well, I will admit shopping for the trip was fun. Who knew you could get all this great stuff from one of those twenty-four hour stores?" Courtney replied quickly changing the subject. "I've never seen a store where they keep the clerk in a bulletproof booth tank before. Nice neighborhood you got in your hometown. I bet the McDonalds has an armed guard too."

  "Ah, not a city dweller, are we? Everyone knows the McDonalds round the corner from here has their own SWAT team."

  Courtney laughed out loud. "Oh no, I'm busted. Yep, I'm a farm girl."

  Harper let a genuine smile spread across her face. She had convinced Courtney that taking her cooler and getting groceries on the way back to the hotel was their best food option on the road. It was more than a little work to get Courtney to go along with the plan. Courtney kept saying it wasn't necessary to bring food, but Harper finally got her way after a heartfelt plea and a promise of sugary treats. Their easy conversation while packing the cooler for travel made all of Harper’s efforts worth it.

  "I knew it. You’re a green acres escapee." Harper teased. “What made you do a runner? The idea of having to pitch more hay or shuck corn?”

  "God, don’t get me started about shucking corn. Do you travel a lot? Is that why you have that massive cooler and super frozen ice blocks?" Courtney asked.

  Harper shook her head. "Haven't traveled in years. The cooler is really old. The ice packs were just in case I wanted to take off somewhere someday."

  "Funny, it's all of a sudden someday."

  "Yeah," Harper replied. She lost her humor. "Funny. Ha Ha."

  The mood had changed in an instant. It was like throwing a bucket of ice-cold water on a fire. They both let the conversation smoother and die.

  ***

  They had trudged down to the lobby less than ten minutes before, but Harper was anxious. She was haunted by a funny feeling they were leaving to go somewhere important, but they were leaving too late. She was sorry she hadn’t tried harder to convince Courtney to start the trip right after they packed the cooler, but the ever-reasonable corporate troll insisted they would be better off starting out at daybreak.

  Swallowing her rising eagerness to get on the road, Harper waited for Courtney to pay the bill. She watched as the woman flashed a smile that was all teeth and insincerity to the desk jockey behind the counter. The man was professional, but would glance over to Harper every few minutes. He let his gaze linger when he reached to hit the shiny silver bell on the counter. A bellman approached with a ding. Nodding absently to the bellman’s greeting, Harper followed him out the automatic doors to the waiting car. She was happy to escape the manager’s questioning eyes.

  The suitcases were loaded into the back with a show worthy of a Greek epic, the battle between man, suitcase, and a tiny trunk. Man won in the end with sweat pouring off the bellman’s brow as the trunk finally slammed shut. Harper wondered if the trunk would explode in a cascade of clothes and toiletries when they opened it at their next stop, but decided she didn’t care in the least.

  "Are you sure you have enough stuff?" Courtney asked as she stepped into the crisp morning air next to Harper.

  Harper gave a nod as she dragged her attention from the bellman trying to push the cooler into the tiny back seat. Courtney had dressed down in a pair of skinny jeans and a fleece jacket.

  "You know, the creep at the front desk almost crapped his pants when he saw you with me. He mumbled something about, 'you again' or something like that. Do you think he remembers you from the company holiday party last year? It seems you make quite an impression on people."

  "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. That’s my story, and I'm sticking with it." Harper gave a nonchalant shrug, "One suitcase is fine. I don't need much. Just a couple of pants, tee shirts, underwear, and a toothbrush."

  "I'm sure you forgot something," Courtney was concerned. "Come on, why don't we go back to your place and I'll give you time to look through your stuff, maybe pick up some last minute items like face cream or shampoo. I'm sure you've forgotten something you'll sorely miss."

  Harper gave a small smile, "Less than twenty-four hours ago, I didn't think I would need anything ever again, so one suitcase filled with stuff is a giant step forward."

  Courtney grinned. "Sure, it’s an improvement to you, but I bet together we can do even better than one suitcase. Why not give it a try?"

  Harper ignored the question. She was more concerned with the bellman pushing the cooler into the back seat. It was near double the effort of the fight with the suitcases. The cooler finally moved enough for the front seat to snap back with a loud rending of leather. Both Harper and the bellman pretended they did not hear the noise.

  "I didn't think they even made metal ice chests anymore," the man huffed as he held out his hand for his tip.

  Harper didn't answer. She walked to the passenger side of the car and got in leaving Courtney to dole out the bellman’s tip. Sitting inside, Harper noticed the interior of the coupe was very much like being in another world. The sounds of the city outside acquired a muted quality lulling her senses into a stupor while the smell and feel of the soft-tooled leather seats seemed to envelop every inch of Harper’s weary body. It was the dashboard, however, that held Harper’s attention. It was nothing short of a command center with lights and indicators for temperature, lights, speed, and sound. It was a world away from the old stick shift Harper drove, and for a moment, Harper froze suddenly uncertain with the reality of the situation.

  Harper looked up when Courtney opened the passenger's door with a rough tug. "Hey, I was talking to you. God, if this is how you finish your conversations, we seriously need to work on your pragmatics..."

  "Oh," was the only answer Harper could give.

  Courtney gave her a long hard look as her voice dropped an octave at Harper’s pale, blank face. “Hey, you okay? You don’t look too good.”

  “I’m fine. Just admiring your ride from the inside. It looks like the lovechild of the USS Enterprise and the Death Star.”

  Courtney snorted in derision, before slamming Harper’s door and crossing over to the driver’s side. Closing her eyes for a moment, Harper heard the door shut as Courtney settled into the seat next to her. The waft of the other woman’s perfume invaded her personal space.

  "Like I was saying, we can swing by your house and grab some more clothes for you. We have time."

  "No," Harper shook her head and reached for her back pocket. "We are right where we need to be to get on the highway."

  Harper flipped opened an ancient Triple A Trip Map. The pages had gone yellowed with age and the plastic loops binding them let almost half the pages slip free along the way. Several pages fell out in Harper’s hands as she slowly flipped through its pages. Undeterred Harper carefully tucked them back in order before locating the page she wanted.

  "Just hop on 93 south to 128 and we can pick up 95 south from there."

  "Harper," Courtney whispered. "What’s that supposed to be? We don't need a map. This car has a GPS. I already plotted our course on the computer."

  Harper gently shook her head. "I want to do it this way. It will be like before. We don't need GPS. It'
s a straight shot down 95 from here to Florida."

  "Like 'before' when?" Courtney tried to ask.

  "Let's do it this way. It's easier to chart our progress this way."

  "Harper, like before when?"

  "Huh?" Harper replied confused by the question. "Like when what?"

  Courtney asked, "When did you do this before? You said it’d be like before. And, you have something there in your hands Triple A probably stopped making in the 70's."

  "Wrong, it's from the 80's," Harper said. "But, who cares? We need to get moving. We'll miss the sunrise over the highway if we don't get moving."

  Courtney snapped back, "I’ll get this baby moving, don't worry about that. You leave the driving to me. But, I want you to tell me when you did this before."

  Harper swallowed hard before nodding in agreement. "On the road, please. Can we save the gory details for the road?"

  Courtney smiled as she turned the key and the car purred to life. Harper watched in fascination as the instrument panel flashed on with an overwhelming array of information. There was every imaginable detail from tire to atmospheric pressure. Pulling out of the hotel driveway and onto the road, Courtney seemed to be born to drive such a car, handling it with a skill and precision that impressed even Harper. Confident that Courtney could handle the driving Harper began scribbling on the map.

  ***

  Finest hospitals in the world

  Couldn’t repair one small brain

  Momentary impact by a drunkard driving a Ford

  And four lives flushed down a singular drain

  "Tommy, these guys are the best. They're gonna fix you up," Dad said

  You looked at me and smiled not because he told the truth but because he cared enough to lie.

  Although it was still early in the morning, the entrance to the highway was jam packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic. Courtney was unfazed by the traffic as she maneuvered into lanes, snaking her way through the sea of brake lights flashing red without the slightest frown. Harper marveled at her calm collection.

 

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