by Nicole Falls
“You can also use the motivation of a little herbal respite once you breach the city limits,” Evie joked.
I patted my side pocket and replied, “Oh that won't be necessary, baby girl because I keep that thang on me.”
Evie's eyes widened. “Wait a minute, you won't say a word stronger than frick, but you...” she trailed off, pantomiming inhaling.
“Everyone has their vices, cousin,” I replied with a giggle, “It's not a constant habit, but it is definitely a stress reliever when necessary.”
“Well, all right now!” Evie replied, clapping her hands together and laughing, “But no, for real, wake me up before you get on the road. I wanna see you off. I wish you could stay longer, but there's no use in delaying the inevitable, right?”
I sighed before nodding my head, “I'll make sure to stop through on my way back and spend a little more time with you guys then.”
“I'm holding you to that,” Evie said, getting up to pull me into a hug before we separated and headed to bed.
The open road in the wee hours of the morning was a fantastic place to replay all of your life’s stupid decisions, and that was exactly what I was doing as I drove through Nevada and Utah, crossing into Colorado. I’d been on the road for about six hours, making fantastic time because there was a distinct lack of law enforcement and my lead foot was in command of the Prius. To my surprise, when I got up to leave this morning, Evie and Jake were already awake. Jake had an early shift at the hospital, so he was up making us breakfast before he headed out. I ate and chatted a bit more with Evie, who gave me Tracey’s contact information. It turned out the reunion would be happening while I was due to be home in Ragston—and Evie took it upon herself to third-party RSVP on my behalf—so I guess I would be in attendance.
A road sign alerted me to the fact that I was coming up on a real town in just twenty miles and I was super grateful. Not only was I hungry again, but I’d also been needing to use the restroom for the past forty-five minutes. I definitely didn’t think about my lack of restroom options when I charted my course home. There was so much sparse land with no civilization for miles, let alone a place I felt safe enough to stop and do my business. There had been a rest stop at the very beginning of my journey, but I’d yet to see another since. So, I would definitely be stopping in Grand Junction, Colorado in search of food and a little respite before continuing onto Denver.
For the third time in the hours, I’d been on the road, and my streaming music was once again interrupted by a phone call. The first call had been from Kellee. Our typical morning routine was to talk to each other through our morning commutes and, as she put it, “No Eat Pray Love ass road trip was going to interrupt her routine.” Our conversation was cut short however because, after just ten minutes of talking to Kells, I got a frantic call from Lance. He was essentially at work freaking out about being the sole point of contact while I was out. That fool boy forgot the very simple password to a protected file that we used daily and almost broke down crying because he had to call me to get it. I laughed my way through the call as he damn near worked himself into a panic attack. So much for that whole “taking my spot” jazz he was bragging about when I broke the news of my leave of absence.
Looking at the dash, this time I sighed before answering the call.
“Are you going to call every day until I get there?”
“I absolutely am, which is why you need to just drive straight here!”
“Have you always been this annoying?” I asked a hint of laughter in my voice.
“I learned from the best,” Grace replied.
“Oh, so your mama?”
“Nah, your daddy,” she quipped back.
We both burst into laughter.
“Naw, that’s your daddy. He and I had a conscious uncoupling a few years back.”
“I cannot deal with you. So where are you now? Tell me all about the purple mountains majesty and amber waves of grain.”
“Actually, where I am right now is pretty boring, tons of flat land and the only pretty thing in sight is, a gorgeous abandoned Cadillac…who would abandon a car in the middle of nowhere?” I asked, more to myself than Grace.
I slowed down a little, and the car was packed to the brim with items, but there wasn’t a driver nor passenger in sight.
“Maybe they couldn’t wait for the next rest stop and hopped out to answer nature’s call,” Grace laughed.
“Nah sis, it’s so open out here that I would have definitely seen anything of that nature happening from the road.”
“Well, that sounds like you’re sticking your nose in somewhere it doesn’t belong, and we don’t need anything else delaying your arrival, so…”
“Dang Grace, someone could be in danger and…” I trailed off, as I looked ahead of me on the road making out the figure of someone walking along the shoulder, “Ooh, I think I’ve solved the mystery of the abandoned car, sis.”
Along the shoulder, I saw a dark brown figure carrying a bright red gas can suddenly come to a stop and mop his brow. From this distance, I could tell the figure was male, but I couldn’t tell his age. What I did know, however, that we were in Bumblescrew, Colorado and I didn’t feel comfortable letting this Black man wander by himself. Not to say that the area was immediately unsafe, but who knew what sort of peril lurked beyond the massive brush.
As I got closer to the man, I rolled down my window to call out to him.
“Excuse me, hello!”
“Emerson Renee, what are you doing?” Grace asked.
“Making sure that there’s one more Black life to matter on this Earth is what I’m doing.”
Dramatic, I know.
“Excuse me,” I called out again, slowing my car to a crawl to match his pace, “I saw a sign that said we aren’t too far from Grand Junction, just a few miles up the road. If you wanna hop in, I can give you a lift.”
He stopped, as if to briefly consider my offer, but never turning to face my direction fully.
“No thanks, miss. I’d hate to put you out,” a gravelly voice replied.
“Welp, you tried,” Grace said, through the speaker, “Now get your tail back on the road and continue on your journey.”
“Shut up, Grace,” I sniped, then continued to the man, “I was going to be stopping anyway, grabbing a bite to eat, it’s not too much trouble at all. It’s too hot out here to be stubborn, brotha.”
That earned me a slight chuckled and his fully focused attention.
“Jesus Tyrone Christ,” I murmured.
Now that I was viewing him head on, I was even more glad that I’d stopped. I was now staring into a pair of deep-set, dark brown they were almost black piercing eyes, settled into a face that was all angles—jawline looking like it was carved out of ebony, nose wider than the Mississippi and a set of full lips that were curved into a smirk as he moved toward the car.
“Well since you put it that way…” he replied, before grabbing the door handle to open the passenger side and get into the car, “How can I say no? Appreciate it, sista.”
“Uh-uh…Emerson, I know you are NOT about to let some stranger danger mickeyfickey get in your car without knowing his name? How do you know he isn’t a serial killer or this isn’t a setup? Stranger Nigga, you better tell me your name before you get in my baby sister’s car,” Grace yelled through the Bluetooth connection, “Matter of fact, I want your full name and date of birth.”
“Oh my gosh Grace, really?”
“Yes, really. I know you get on your power to the people kick, but he could also murderize you and quite frankly I don’t have the time to plan a funeral, so…I’m waiting.”
I mouthed an apology to the stranger who shot me a look of understanding that let me know that no matter what Grace thought he wasn’t a serial killer that lured women with a fake breakdown and empty can of gas.
The handsome stranger froze with his hand on the door before speaking, “The name’s Ro Ashe, and my date of birth is two, fourteen, eighty-two.”
“I know your mama didn’t put Ro on your birth certificate. Full name please and hand my sister your license so she can verify that you’re not lying.”
He chuckled again while reaching into a pocket and retrieving his wallet to follow Grace’s commands.
“Full name is Roosevelt James Ashe,” he replied while handing me his license.
“And that checks out, Detective Benson,” I said to Grace while motioning for Roosevelt to enter. He moved cautiously as if he was awaiting Grace’s okay before making any moves.
“Take a picture of his license and send it to me,” Grace commanded.
I shook my head as Roosevelt got into the car and buckled the seat belt. I mouthed another apology as I did what Grace said because I knew that if I hadn’t, she would continue to be a pain in the behind. After receiving the message, she finally allowed me to hang up the call with her, only with a promise for me to call her back as soon as I’d reached the exit for Grand Junction.
“I’m so sorry about that. I called myself trying to be a good Samaritan, and my overprotective big sister just had to do the most.”
“You’re good, sweetheart,” Roosevelt responded easily, “I would have done the same thing if my sister was trying to pick up a random idiot from the side of the road.”
“Idiot?” I asked.
“Yeah, I knew I should have stopped at the filling station that was miles back, but I decided to take my chances because I was hell-bent on getting to GJ and Freddy’s. Too busy fantasizing about steak burgers that I completely missed that my gas gauge was screaming for attention,” Roosevelt finished on another of those low rumbling chuckles that sent a frisson of…awareness through my body. I’d always been a sucker for a man with a deep voice and Ro’s put Barry White’s to shame.
“Must be some good burger,” I joked.
“It’s like Steak and Shake, but actually good. Matter of fact, you’ll have to let me treat you to one once we get to GJ. My way of saying thank you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I insist.”
I nodded my head in acquiescence as we rode the next couple of miles in companionable silence.
“I’m Emerson, by the way. I just…it occurred to me that while Grace got all of your information, I never gave you any of mine. I could have been the ax murderer,” I laughed.
“Not, with those nails. They’re too pretty to get covered in blood,” Roosevelt joked back.
Once exiting the highway, I noticed a gas station immediately to the left and the Freddy’s place Roosevelt had referenced was just across the lot from that. I pulled into the gas station so that he could fill his can and I hopped out the car to take care of my business in the restroom. When I emerged, I noticed that Roosevelt was also topping off my gas tank.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, walking back toward the car.
“You didn’t have to stop,” he replied.
“Touché. Are we all done here? I’m ready for this life-changing burger joint,” I joked.
“Wait a minute; I never said it would change your life.”
“It was enough to make you risk your life and ignore your gas gauge, so it must be life-changing,” I teased.
Roosevelt laughed, a full-throated, head thrown back laugh that felt like it came from the depths of his soul.
“Aight, you got jokes, I see, it’s cool,” he replied.
“You left yourself wide open for that one,” I laughed.
“C’mon, and let me change your life then,” Roosevelt said, grabbing me by the hand and leading me toward the restaurant.
We were halfway across the lot when a car came careening into the parking lot damn near on two wheels. Roosevelt acted quickly, pulling me backward and into his body as he turned us away from the direction in which the car was heading.
“You all right?” Roosevelt asked.
I’d barely nodded before he was moving in the direction of the car to confront the driver. A quick glance at the vehicle made me immediately grab his arm, trying to dissuade him from going forward with whatever he was planning to do. This whole thing had started with me trying to save him from inadvertently becoming the next hashtag and confronting some idiot with Trump/Pence stickers all over his bumper was not worth it. Instead, I prodded him toward our original destination, Freddy’s Frozen Custard, and Steakburgers.
“You totally buried the lede here, Roosevelt,” I said, as I walked through the door he held open for me, “You were worried about a darn burger when they have concretes!”
“Call me Ro, please. And what, pray tell, is a concrete?”
“It’s like a milkshake, but not quite. A sundae, but way better. A milkdae or sunshake if you will,” I replied, “And, I’ll call you Roosevelt if it’s all the same? I don’t really do nicknames.”
“Not even if it’s my preference?”
“I mean if you prefer I’ll call you what you asked to be called. But honestly Roosevelt, your parents went through the likely painstakingly difficult process of auditioning several and finally settled upon one name for you only to not have anyone use it? Isn’t that a bit silly?”
Roosevelt nodded once, “I never really thought about it that way. You may have a point.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty good at getting people to see things my way,” I quipped, stepping forward to the now vacated counter to place my order.
After we both ordered our food, we sat at a table falling back into the conversation. I learned that Roosevelt was on a cross-country road trip as well, but he was actually moving back East—which explained the mounds of items I saw in the car as I passed it. He was leaving sunny Southern California for the temperamental weather of the Midwest once again, settling back in his hometown, Chicago.
I really could have listened to Emerson talk for hours about nothing, but I had already derailed her trip for long enough. Not many women would have stopped for a random stranger on the side of the road, let alone driven said stranger for gas and entertained said stranger for lunch, but I quickly determined that Emerson was unlike any woman I'd previously encountered. She was bad as ever, a pecan-skinned beauty with a natural vibe, but she had her quirks about her. Her insistence upon calling me by my full first name, no matter how hard I tried to get her to do the opposite.
“Have you ever thought about why your parents named you Roosevelt instead of something more fitting like Valentino?” Emerson asked.
Her penchant for asking random questions was another of those quirks.
“Valentino, really?” I asked with a chuckle.
“It's a name!” she countered, “And very befitting for someone who was born on the day of love...or whateva.”
“Roosevelt is a family name, my daddy's name and his daddy before him.”
“Y'all Ashes are big on tradition?”
“More like lacking creativity,” I replied.
My folks were very much into keeping up appearances and naming me after my dad and grandpa was building a legacy in their eyes. Never mind the fact that I was very unlikely to have a kid to pass this tradition down to. And even if I did have a kid, saddling them with such a cumbersome name so early in life seemed less...a point of pride and more...a burden. One that was saddled with a history that none of my future children should have to bear honestly. I shook off the thoughts of the past, my parents, and the Ashe legacy and shifted my focus back to Emerson.
She'd stopped speaking and was just staring at me with her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“What?” I asked, startling her from whatever trance she'd fallen into.
“You are...really handsome; you know that?”
“Cut it out.”
She nodded once before laughing, “Ok, so you definitely do know that.”
“Ain't nobody said all that now,” I shot back.
“It's true. If you had an inkling but weren't sure, your response would have been a simple thank you. The deflection, deepening of your voice, and that grin l
ets me know that you know just how fine you are, Roosevelt.”
“Do you always say whatever is on your mind?”
“It's a very recently onset phenomenon, actually. Rather freeing, honestly.”
“I bet so...”
“I...” she started before being interrupted by her ringing phone. A quick glance down led to a groan, “Ah fudgesickles! Hey, Grace.”
I could only hear her end of the conversation, but from her responses and the way her face kind of closed in on itself, whatever the other person had to say on the other end wasn't something she wanted to hear. The phone call was brief, maybe five or so minutes, but the comfortable vibe that had once flowed between us now held a charge of something different.
“I think I’ve derailed you enough. Thank you, Emerson, for everything…I can call an Uber to get me back to the whip,” I said, standing to gather our trash and dispose of it.
“What?” Emerson exclaimed, “No! I can take you back to your car.”
“And go back in the complete opposite direction of your travels. Nah, love, I’ve already delayed your timeline. Aren’t you trying to make it to Denver before sundown?”
“Twenty additional minutes won’t change that, Roosevelt. Besides, it’d be your luck to call for an Uber and Confederate Carl from earlier rolls up. It’s fine, c’mon.”
The ride back to my car brought that comfortable vibe back between us as Emerson chided me about being sure to watch my gas gauge because she wouldn’t be there to pick me up once again if I ran out of gas on the hunt for burgers. Almost as quickly as she entered my life, she left it, and I began the long trek home once again. The plan was to stop in Denver like Emerson as well as make a stop in Nebraska…for yet another Freddy’s fix. That would be my last chance to get one of those burgers for a very long while, and I definitely planned on taking advantage as much as I could before I slid into the crib. I was also, if I wanted to be completely honest with myself, prolonging the inevitable. Just as I tried to shake off the thoughts of the things that were bringing me home, my phone rang.
