Miracle on I-40

by Curtiss Ann Matlock

  There was a Salvation Army bell ringer at the door of the discount store on the end of the mall, where he entered. Without breaking stride, he dropped a couple of dollars in the pot and continued on inside, maneuvering around people and searching and finding the isle with the cigarettes. But when he reached them, he heard again in memory the boy’s blasted refrain: You shouldn’t be smokin’.

  Hands stuffed firmly in his coat pockets, he walked away, calling himself all kinds of a dope and debating about going back.

  And then he found himself distracted by an array of stuffed animals. Not much of an array, as the shelf was empty in spots. But there was this one wrinkled puppy with a vest and bow tie sitting all by itself, almost as if waiting. He thought the little girl Anna would like it. And it didn’t cost all that much, he told himself as he went to the checkout counter.

  He was a prosperous man now, very far from the fifteen-year-old boy who had stood in the yard, with all of his things in a frayed dufflebag, facing his grandfather and wanting somewhere to belong. His grandfather’s attitude had been that Cooper would come to no good, but he had determined to prove the old man wrong. He had made a place for himself in the world. He owned his second brand new top-of-the-line Kenworth and lived in a spacious, up-scale apartment, when he wasn’t traveling the road. He could pretty much buy anything he wanted, had a good name in the business, savings in the bank. He was a respected man with a secure future. Yes, he had proved the old man wrong.

  For the first time it occurred to him to wonder where the old man’s hate-filled attitude about him had come from. He had never done one single thing to the old man.

  The thought came softly and gently, like a crack in dark clouds, where sunbeams broke through. While standing there in the middle of the busy shopping mall, surrounded by the rich sights of Christmas in every shop window and familiar carols ringing from speakers all around, Cooper felt the first stirring of compassion that he had ever experienced for his grandfather. He thought of how much his features resembled those of the old man, and saw the old man as once a kid and then young man, too.

  In one swift moment, he knew that his grandfather had been a pitiful man eaten up with whatever had hurt him, and that none it had had anything to do with Cooper, not then and not now.

  A bunch of boys came running past. One brushed into Cooper and said, “Uh, sorry, sir,” and was gone.

  Cooper was a sir, not the once-needy boy anymore. And life had been good to him, far better than he had heretofore realized.

  He looked down at the sack containing the stuffed dog. Of course, he couldn’t buy that and not get something for the boy Jon. Breaking into swift strides, he headed for the toy store across the mall, where he perused the shelves with a growing eagerness that felt a little strange.

  The shelves were bleak, with most of the toys sold out. Determined to get something special, though, he meandered back through the mall and a number of stores, until finally coming to the boy’s clothing section in a department store.

  There he spied a black jacket with the Dale Earnhardt Junior racing insignia on it. Size?

  “Hey, kid,” he said, sizing up a boy standing several feet away. “How old are you?”

  “‘leven.”

  “Well, you’re about the right size. Here’s five bucks. Try this jacket on for me, okay?”

  “You bet!” A smallish hand snatched the bill, and the boy proceeded to instruct Cooper in the facts of fashion for boys. “It’s gotta be baggy, man. You want this one.”

  As Cooper left the checkout counter with another shopping bag, he experienced rising spirits and the daring thought to find something for Lacey, although he couldn’t imagine what and felt foolish for even considering it.

  He paused in front of a lingerie store, gazing at a lace and silk gown on a mannequin. The next instant a saleswoman was leaning into the window, draping a tiny sexy nighty into the display. She raised an eyebrow at him.

  Feeling his face turn fiery, Cooper shook his head and moved along.

  Maybe perfume? Not a chance.

  Maybe a candle? Nah.

  Best not to get her anything. It was understandable that he would buy for the kids at Christmas, but he didn’t want Lacey to get the wrong idea about him buying her something.

  Then, passing a gift shop, he looked in the window and spied a crystal-ball snow scene. The ball was a bit larger than his gear-shift knob, sat atop stained oak and had a miniature ceramic Christmas tree inside with colorful presents underneath it and an angel on top.

  Hesitating only a moment, he went in to buy it.

  When he got back to his motel room, he set his packages on the bed and gazed at them. He wondered at what was happening to him.

  He could no longer deny that something was happening to him.

  He looked again in the mirror, jutting his face forward and searching his image. This time he found no trace of his grandfather.

  Likely he was just imagining all of it. He really had gotten to thinking too much since he had dragged up all that stuff about his past. That was why he never liked to think or speak about it.

  He patted his shirt pocket and came up empty. Dang, he wished to have bought the cigarettes. He did not think now a good time to quit, despite the boy harping at him.

  He walked down to the lobby of the motel, passing Lacey’s room as he went. Light showed around the edges of the heavy drapes. Sounded like a television going.

  In the lobby, he got a cigarette package out of the machine. The clerk had a small television going, and he paused for a look at a weather report.

  “Boy, they’re gettin’ it up north a-ways,” the clerk said. “Closed the St. Louis airport.”

  “Really? Is it still stayin’ north?”

  “So far. We’re gonna get some sleet, maybe heavy ice in places.”

  On his way back to his room, he got a Coke from the machine. He kept looking at Lacey’s window, with the light around the edges. He did not intend to stop.

  But he did, as if his feet had a mind of their own, and the next instant, he raised his hand and knocked softly.

  Lacey, sitting in the chair right next to the door on the other side and staring mindlessly at the television, about jumped out of her skin at the sound. She immediately thought of Cooper and some possible contingency. Eyes anxiously going to the children asleep in the two double beds, she attempted to answer the door before another knock that could wake one or both of them. But the blanket she had wrapped around her legs got all tangled, with the result that she pitched forward and almost fell on Anna, managing at the last moment to twist and end up plunking on the floor instead.

  Outside, Cooper heard the thudding noise just as he was about to knock a second time. His hand froze in mid-air.

  Lacey made it to standing again and frantically scrambled to the window and to pull back the curtain. Cooper’s face was only inches away, and his eyes seemed to widen in surprise of seeing her.

  She dropped the curtain, smoothed her hair and clothes, and calmed herself before removing the security chain, as quietly as possible, and opening the door.

  “Hi,” she said, studying him intensely for signs of trouble. “Is there a problem? Has the weather worsened?”

  “Uh…not yet. But it could. I just thought I should tell you. It’s gonna sleet and it may get up a good ice storm in some places, they’re sayin’ now.”

  He gazed down at her, and she knew he had not stopped to talk about weather. She stepped out, he moved enough to let her, and she pulled the door closed behind her.

  “Kids asleep?” he asked.

  She nodded. “They were exhausted. They may sleep in the truck, but this is all a lot for them.” Folding her arms, she hugged herself against the bitter wind.

  Cooper moved over to shield her with his body, an act that struck her deeply. She began to shiver and not all from the cold.

  Though she couldn’t clearly see his eyes or assess his expression because of the dim light on the porch, she fel
t the warmth of him. She told herself it was because he blocked the wind. She told herself he couldn’t be attracted to her, at the same time that she knew very well her was. And that she wanted him to be, wanted him in a way that she had not wanted a man in many years.

  “Look, Lacey,” he said, you’d arranged to ride back to Albuquerque with Pate. I’ll be goin’ back just like he would. You and the kids might as well come along.”

  Her mind was still back at hearing him say her name, at the way he drawled out the word. Finally she said, “Think you could stand the kids?”

  “Hey, it’s only for a few days.” He almost grinned.

  His eyes were very dark as he gazed at her, and his grin faded completely. The wind snatched at his thick hair, and the yellow glow of the porch light magnified the bruise around his eye. Lacey caught scents of cigarette smoke, leather, and faint cologne. His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips, then back up to her eyes again.

  “Here, take my coat,” he said in a husky voice. “Don’t want you to catch pneumonia.”

  She shook her head and protested, “Then you’ll be cold,” but he was already shrugging out of it.

  He slipped it around her with awkward motions, one hand still holding the Coke. The back of his hand caressed her neck, and she knew without doubt that he’d done it on purpose. Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were on her intently.

  He said, “The first time I saw you in Gerald’s place four years ago, I wanted to kiss you.”

  He seemed as amazed by his words as she was. His eyes were all over her face, and her heart was beating like running horses.

  She said, “The first time I saw you, I wanted to touch your cheek to see if you were as cold as you looked.”

  He shook his head and chuckled, looked away and back at her.

  “I didn’t want you to come on this trip.”

  “I could tell...just barely, but I could tell.”

  His teeth showed for an instant. Then, intensely, “Pate never said…is there anything between you and him?”

  She shook her head. “Not like you’re thinkin’. He’s a good friend.”

  He seemed to relax, to take a breath. “I haven’t meant to be an ass. I’m just not good with kids.”

  “It’s okay. I know we came as a big shock to you. You are, though—good with kids.” He looked skeptical, and she said, “You really are.”

  Again they gazed at each other. He got this rather ironic and fearful and hopeful grin. She raised her hand to touch his cheek. She felt the stubble of a beard on his warm skin.

  “You’re warm,” she whispered.

  His head came down, slowly, slowly, and his arms slipped around her, slowly, slowly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, not too very slowly but with a great sigh.

  Then he was kissing her. Hard and demanding, lips pressing and hearts pounding.

  When they at last broke apart, she said breathlessly, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed.”

  He gazed down at her with something of a puzzled expression. His chest was heaving, too. He touched her lips with his thumb and then bent his head and kissed her eyes softly. Then her lips, softly. A kiss of goodbye.

  He stepped away from her, reached behind her and opened the door to her room. “Good night,” he said, giving her that almost-grin.

  “Good night,” Lacey managed to say as she handed him his coat.

  She slipped through the door, closed it, and leaned against it, her heart beating hard beneath her ribs.

  Later, when she lay in bed, she pulled the pillow against her chest and struggled with the emotions of a woman overwhelmed about a man.

  * * * *

  She was awakened by a loud pounding on the door. “Lacey…Lacey!”

  While she struggled to find her way from beneath the covers, she heard the door open and Jon’s voice. Freed at last from the blankets, she stumbled to her feet to see Cooper standing there.

  “What time is it?” She had trouble focusing, but she could see behind Cooper’s head it was still black outside. She was tired of getting up before the chickens.

  “Four-fifteen,” Cooper said. “The storm is on its way, and we gotta hustle if we want to get to Pine Grove by evenin’.” Turning, he strode away.

  Within twenty minutes Lacey had herself and Jon dressed, their bags gathered, and Cooper was helping a sleepy Anna into the truck.

  “Is that snow?” Lacey paused and looked upward into the light of the pole lamp.

  “Yes,” Cooper said. “Let’s go.”

  Cooper had thoughtfully bought coffee, milk, and sweet rolls for the early hours, and at nine they stopped to refuel and took just long enough for a quick breakfast. It began to snow in earnest, big heavy flakes. The report was icy rain to the East, which would be more dangerous than snow.

  Lacey’s gaze kept straying to Cooper’s profile, then down to his hands on the wheel, her mind having the perverse tendency to dwell on the feel of his lips on hers. He didn’t seem to remember. His focus was on the storm.

  He likely kissed women on a frequent basis, she thought.

  Cooper isn’t the marrying kind, Jolene had said. And Lacey didn’t think he was her kind, either.

  Her insides became tighter and tighter as she sat and watched the outside world grow whiter. When she cautioned the children to be quiet, she had to grit her teeth to keep from yelling. The worries swirled in her mind. Would they make Pine Grove by evening? Somehow she wasn’t in as much of a hurry now. She dreaded saying goodbye to Cooper. Would her father accept them upon arrival? Would she be able to borrow enough from Beth to get them home again? No way could she ride with Cooper. He would know how she felt about him, and she would feel a fool. Would Cooper ever be just another customer to her again?

  The traffic thickened in the mountains, as did the falling snow, piling up inch by inch over the ice that had come before it. Repeatedly Cooper swore under his breath at vehicles pulling in front of him, slamming on their brakes, slowing dangerously. He commanded the children to get into the bed of the sleeper and stay there, and he checked twice to make certain Lacey had her seat belt buckled.

  Just past noon they were forced to leave the highway. It had been closed ahead because of ice and drifting snow. The good news was it was expected to be cleared within the hour.

  “Good a time as any for lunch,” Cooper said, bringing the big truck to a stop in a restaurant parking lot.

  He stretched his arms, and Lacey saw the lines of strain around his eyes. For a brief moment she dared to meet his gaze. With surprise, she saw an unusual softness in his dark eyes as they met hers. The same softness she’d seen there when he had kissed her, and an intimate smile, all for her.

  “Are we gonna make it to Grandpa’s by Christmas Eve, Cooper? Anna asked in a worried voice as they trudged through the wet snow to the crowded restaurant.

  “It is Christmas Eve,” Jon told her.

  She looked up at Cooper, who paused and looked down at her. “I’ll get you there tonight, squirt, if I can at all.”

  Then, in a fluid, surprising motion, he swooped Anna up into his arms. “Let’s keep your feet dry. Don’t want to make your cold worse on vacation.”

  White Christmas

  Cooper went off to check highway conditions. He returned and slipped into the booth. “They’ve cleared one lane going east. And it’s slick out there,” he told Lacey. “I think we can handle it, but there is some danger.” He gazed at her with a raised eyebrow.

  His consulting her came as a bit of a surprise. She gazed at him, and then looked at her children.

  Anna said with all practicality, “We have to get to Grandpa’s, Mama, or else Santa won’t know where we are.”

  “Cooper can handle it, Mom,” Jon said with confidence.

  “Of course he can...and of course we’re goin’ on.” The looks Cooper and Jon exchanged did not escape her notice. Boys and men, she thought.

  Then Cooper lifted Anna and carried her out to the tru
ck. Jon slid on his shoes across the lot. Lacey prayed: I trust in You, Lord.

  The big truck rolled down the entrance ramp and into the single lane of traffic, all going at an amazingly good clip, to Lacey’s mind. From the sleeper, Anna and Jon poked their heads out and sang, “Jingle Bells…”

  Cooper actually grinned.

  Lacey peered hard through the windshield. The hard north wind made a muffled roaring sound, and the windshield wipers thumped rapidly as the Kenworth sliced through the swirling white gloom. The CB radio crackled occasionally with reports of the highway conditions from drivers heading both east and west. Music from the radio provided a low background to it all. Twice, on two different stations, they heard “White Christmas”, and Jon and Anna sang along.

  It bothered Lacey this time. She told the children to please get back in the sleeper and stay there.

  “Where’s your Christmas spirit?” Cooper said, giving her a wink.

  The snow began to blow back on the road faster than the plows could keep it clear. Repeatedly, the truck plunged through drifts that completely obliterated the pavement. Lacey caught occasional glimpses of two other semi rigs up ahead. Directly in front of them was a red station wagon, a blessing to follow with visibility so poor.

  Though she could feel the tug of the wind and the occasional sliding of the truck, Lacey strangely did not feel terribly anxious. She felt a certainty they were going to be all right, and this caused her to worry if she was being neglectful of worrying.

  She glanced over at Cooper. All of his attention was focused on his driving, and it was as if he were attached to the truck, anticipating its every movement. She suspected, by the rapt look on his face, that he secretly loved the challenge of driving in such abominable weather.

  It had begun to grow quite dim when it happened. Lacey had actually been drowsing, when a car came pushing around them in a rare wide spot in the road. As Cooper braked slightly and struggled to keep the Kenworth on the road, he cursed under his breath, which brought Lacey up in her seat to see the car’s taillights disappear immediately into the gloom. She strained to see, expecting to find the sedan nose first in a snow-bank on the shoulder, as they’d seen many others.