by Tara Lutz
“Dex,” she swayed into him. A little on purpose and a little on the wine. “Have you been out here this whole time?”
“This whole time?” There was that grin again. “Even in your drunken haze you noticed how long ago I left? Are you sure Jessie, or did that shot of tequila distort your time frame continuum?”
A look of ‘does that even make sense’ crossed her freckled face. No, she was sure. She had ordered two more glasses of wine after he left so that had to have been at least an hour, right? Maybe at the beginning of the evening, but after a few they went down a bit easier and quicker.
“What are you doing tomorrow? If I text you an address will you come there? It’s a bit out of the city, but I think you might enjoy the weekend I’ve planned. It might inspire you to write a book or something.”
He held her steady as she contemplated his question, his hand firm against the small of her back. Even in her wobbly state she knew that she never mentioned she was a writer, or given him her number. She grinned, showing off her dimples, and called his bluff.
“Sure, why not? I make a habit of taking off into the unknown every long weekend with a guy I just met the night before.” Two could play this game.
He had nice eyes. They reminded her of chocolate frosting on a birthday cake; smooth and creamy. He reached his hand up to her cheek and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, tugging gently on her ear lobe before bringing his hand down to his side. She slowly pulled away from him and hailed a taxi. When one stopped, he reached past her, opened the back door, and helped her keep what little balance she had left as she stepped into the back seat.
Jessie looked back over her shoulder, her eyes a little squinty. “See you tomorrow, bring sm..” – he shut the door.
Before the driver moved back into traffic she rolled down the window. Who does he think he is? She almost asked him, but decided to flash him another smile instead. Dex watched with eyes as dark as the night ocean, his face never losing the half grin, like he knew something she didn’t. She was conflicted about whether she was sad or relieved that she might never see those eyes again. It took all her willpower not to turn in the seat and see if he was still watching her and was grateful that her phone chimed with an incoming text, distracting her.
The message shook her out of her Friday buzz quicker than the lights coming on in the bar at the end of the night.
1875 Victoria Road, Duke Island, it read. The sender was unknown.
CHAPTER 3
After sending numerous unanswered texts to Ger, to find out if she had given her cell number to the somewhat tall, definitely handsome stranger, and calling Allison until she felt the hour was too obscene, Jessie finally fell into an alcohol induced, dreamless sleep. When she came to the next morning, feeling like a she had been hit by a truck and her mouth full of cotton balls, the events of the previous night entered her foggy mind. Rolling over, almost onto Sam, she noticed her phone blinking with new messages and the rain, once again, hitting her bedroom window like pellets. Neither of these things added to the desire of wanting to get out of her cozy bed and start another day of self-inflicted boredom.
Reaching across her night stand, narrowly missing the full glass of water that she hazily remembered filling before she collapsed onto her bed, she grabbed her phone. The message was still there, it hadn’t been a dream or a nightmare, she wasn’t sure which she preferred. She blinked twice, rubbed her sleep filled eyes and read the address again, 1875 Victoria Road, Duke Island.
Why does that number seem so familiar? It was just right there, prodding the back of her brain. I know that number, maybe it was the last four digits of an ex’s number. Yes, that had to be it. I will Google map it later, but first I have to figure out which one of my supposedly well intentioned friends gave out my number. Her thoughts were making it hard for her foggy brain to keep up. She also made a note to google ‘the mental effects of constantly talking to oneself.’
Ger had sent three texts, none of them mentioning Dex, none of them really having any purpose other to confirm that Jessie and her two friends would probably be spending the day trying to piece together the last few hours of the night before.
Taking a much needed sip of the room temperature water and giving Sam a quick pat she regretfully slipped out of bed, surprised that she had not been cursed by the inevitable headache usually brought on by late night bar shots. The water was a good idea or maybe it was the half a box of Oreos she had munched on while trying to reach the girls at 2:00 am; evidence of which were still on her coffee table.
The orange swirled, obviously hungry Sam, twisted between her slow moving feet as she pulled up her bedroom blinds and gazed out at the city under the clouds. There was some recollection about some bar conversation that it was supposed to be a sunny long weekend. The only sign of anything glowing yellow was the McDonald’s sign she could just make out, a few miles away, through the downpour. Her stomach growled loudly. ‘A sausage mcmuffin would be so good right now,’ it said to her.
“Well Sam, what should we do today? Lay on the couch or go back to bed?” I am so pathetic, is there an app for that?
Sam answered her chatter with his - cat about to waste away to nothing unless he was fed right then- meow and Jessie obeyed. Her cell tweeted from the bedroom.
“I really need to change that ringtone.” She said out loud, to no one except for her disheveled self. “Maybe then I won’t feel like throwing up every time I hear it.” Doubtful, she knew, but the new ringtone was picked out before she checked the incoming message.
Unknown name. Did you Google map it yet?
It was too early for this. She speed dialed Allison’s number, who answered on the third ring, and listened as Jessie told her about running into Dex after she left the Central and the mysterious texts, both of them, she could only assume were from him.
“Did you give him my number? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie questioned, already knowing the answer. Allison, in all the time they had known each other, would never have given out her number without promptly letting her in on the secret. Not that it was a secret, but any guy asking your friend for your number really didn’t want it to be totally obvious.
“Nope,” Allison sleepily responded, “what did the messages say?”
“The first one was an address and I just got another one asking if I had googled it yet.” Jessie left out any details, she felt hesitant to share them with Allison. She wasn’t sure why.
“So, are you going to go?” Her friend asked, nonchalantly.
“Are you crazy? No, I’m not going to go!” Fur ball looked up from his food when Jessie raised her voice, then resumed eating when he realized that whatever was going on wasn’t going to affect his breakfast.
“Come on Jessie, we could both go, it might be fun. Meeting a strange guy in a bar, not knowing where he got your number and then driving to the middle of nowhere to spend the weekend, we would be crazy to pass that up.” Allison’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Or we could go for coffee instead, but not to Dee’s Place. They changed their couches and put up hipster-looking pictures. You know how much I hate change.”
Jessie smiled one of her rare morning smiles. If there was anything Allison disliked more than change she was yet to find out. They decided to meet in an hour at the Starbucks, because that was way less hipster-ish (it was her turn to be sarcastic), located halfway between their apartments. She sent Ger a quick text with their plans and stumbled into her matchbox bathroom for a much needed shower; to rinse the night before out of her hair and maybe force her brain to work without the help of coffee.
She let the steaming hot water flow over her and closed her eyes, willing the hazy events of the previous evening to be put back into order. She was sure the smoker, who called himself Dex, had left an hour before her. Then what was he doing around the corner when she went to look for a cab? Was he waiting for her or had he stopped into a nearby bar to have one last drink before heading home, where ever that was. Did she touch him?
She remembered stumbling into him, he had stood her back up, but did she touch him? Would he have considered that flirting? Was she flirting? Had she wanted to flirt with him? After thinking for five long shower minutes, mulling over her questions, she came up with the only conclusion that would answer all of them. It didn’t matter, she would never see him again. A more pressing issue was why did she agree to meet Allison in an hour? She would need coffee long before that.
Jessie was blow drying her hair, her head hanging upside down, trying to get the maximum fullness out of her curls, when her new ring tone sounded the arrival of a text. Ger would have to pass on their coffee date. She wasn’t sure where she was in the city and the guy making her breakfast was way too cute to leave just then. She also confirmed that she had not given the ‘cute dirt bag’ Jessie’s number and promised to text her later to fill her in on her night, because it was way more interesting than getting an address to a place neither of them would ever go.
With her hair as full as it was never going to get without product, Jessie pulled on her favourite, well-worn, jeans. She could almost taste the coffee, it was oh so close. Before her feet settled into her pink Converse she noticed her pinky toe protruding through a hole in her dollar store sock. Did they ever last more than a few weeks? She proceeded to lace up them up anyway. She didn’t plan on taking off her shoes until she kicked them off, in her apartment for one, after a Starbucks fix. Jessie opened her front door, and then quickly closed it again to run back to her bedroom to grab an umbrella. She knew remembering the bleak, black, personal awning wouldn’t block the sideways rain, and she would complain non-stop about having to carry it around, but she grabbed it anyway and hurried out the door. Jessie was never late, but was always in fear of being just that. Allison was always late. They made the perfect match.
She exited the front door of her three story, brick apartment building and spotted a red convertible out of the corner of her eye. The top was up to protect its probably leather interior from the now slightly less offensive rain. Of course, now that I’m already lugging around an umbrella. Jessie did not usually notice cars, but this one was the oddest shade of red, like fire and blood. The observation was probably the result of having read too many fantasy books that HBO series was based on.
She headed in the opposite direction from where the car was parked, its engine humming; and popped up her umbrella, then folded it down again. She realized she would be less uncomfortable just pulling the hood up on her rain jacket. As she struggled to close the uncooperative umbrella, she vaguely noticed the sports car pull out into the street behind her. When it revved past her she couldn’t help but notice the license plate, 1875VIC.
Jessie stood frozen on the sidewalk as the rain halted and the sun started to peek out between the storm clouds. She pulled out her phone, typed in the already memorized address that had been sent to her early that morning, and hailed her second cab in less than 12 hours.
CHAPTER 4
Jessie climbed into the taxi and requested the driver take her to Avis, Budget, the closest place she could rent a car, before she changed her mind or allowed it to think that she was making a huge mistake.
For the last few months Jessie had an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach, but it was nothing like the ache that she had in her heart for most of her adult life. She met Tyler shortly after they had both turned seventeen and within weeks they were applying to the same college and making plans to move away from their one horse town and start their life together, while pursuing their dreams. Hers to become a writer; Tyler to save the world. Their parents’ protests over them moving away, to a strange city, after only two short months together, went unheard, and only made them want to succeed more.
At first it was perfect, Jessie’s name was never said without Tyler’s attached. Are you going to JessieandTyler’s tonight? What time do you want JessieandTyler to pick us up? JessieandTyler really are the two luckiest people in the world. She was happy, beyond happy, but sometimes she would find herself drifting, wanting more. As a couple they were defined, but there was nothing that defined her.
She joined a book club, gym, learned to knit, started a blog, but still Jessie found herself lying awake at night wanting something that she couldn’t find. She felt like she had been taken from her real life and dropped into this one. Jessie would look in the mirror and give her reflection pep talks, trying to understand what it was that she was missing. She was excelling at school, with a close family, supportive friends and the love of her life. Tyler thought she was silly when she asked him not to carve their initials on the picnic table when they went camping or when she refused to get their picture done in front of a Christmas tree. ‘Screw you, do you even know me at all?’ Jessie wanted to scream over and over at him. The words, what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me, put her to sleep at night. They were her counting sheep.
After graduation, like clockwork, he proposed and the whirlwind of planning a wedding took over her life. Their wedding was fifteen months away but already she was tired of the traditions that seemed to come with social media and retailers. How did people announce things before Facebook and who really needs engagement photos? These were just a few thoughts that started to point her in a contradictory direction from where her life was moving.
Tyler was busy at grad school and Jessie started working at a local paper, writing an advice column that she was completely unqualified for. She couldn’t help asking herself why she was giving these people advice when she was wandering through life, having no idea what she was doing or even if she wanted the future that was upon her. She decorated their home, picked out her wedding dress, flowers, cake, decorations, but could never shake the feeling that any of it was right. Jessie wasn’t the person she was supposed to be, she wasn’t even close.
Since the day she left Tyler, with no explanation other than she had no explanation, she had been sure she was getting closer to the path that she was meant to travel on. Sitting in the back of the cab that morning, on the way to rent a car to drive to who knew where, nervousness was quickly replaced with confidence. She called Allison, cursing her for not having a cell phone for hundredth time, giving her little information, other than she needed to take a rain check and that she would call her later.
Before she put her phone back in her pocket she googled the address. It auto populated and showed it was exactly 202.8 kilometers from the position where she was at that moment. She could be there by 1:00, if there were no issues getting a vehicle. She never had a reason to rent one before, and definitely not on a long weekend Saturday. Suddenly she was anxious about not being able to make her destination. If she couldn’t reach 1875 Victoria Road, Duke Island, was she destined to live out her life alone, with nothing but a cat to help her pick out her outfits? Her mother was right, she should have called that therapist, the one a friend of her yoga instructor’s sister used. She was about to tell the cab driver to change his course to the nearest Starbucks, and call Allison to ask to her meet there instead, when he pulled up to an Enterprise Rent-a -Car and politely asked for his fifteen dollar fare. Jessie handed him a twenty, told him to keep the change, climbed out of the sedan, leaving her umbrella behind and stepped, with only slight hesitation, into the small retailer.
CHAPTER 5
A glasses clad, almost not a teenager, looked up at her from the counter and gave her an - I wish I was anywhere but here - smile. Jessie moved closer, she could see keys hanging on hooks behind his head, and hoped this was a good sign. She placed her purse on the counter, pulled out her wallet containing her driver’s license and VISA and cleared her dry, scratchy throat.
“I would like to rent a car please.” She had trouble meeting his eyes, like he might know she was actually crazy and deny her request before calling the police.
He passed a form across the counter to her, instructed her fill it out and asked her what kind of car she would need. She told him the distance, asked for the most economical and tried not to roll her eyes wh
en he asked if she cared about the color, although pink would be nice. She realized her hands were clammy, as he dropped the keys into them, and gripped them tightly before they fell onto the floor.
“Do you want me to point out the car for you or will you be ok?” He looked at her expectantly. His slightly magnified eyes pleading silently for her to not make him actually have to do his job.
Jessie thought, I think I can find a blue Ford Focus out of the six vehicles out front, but instead she answered, “Nope, no problem, you can get back to your Candy Crush”. He blushed, thinking he had done a better job of hiding his phone under the reservation book.
“That’s a hard level.” She smiled a goodbye in his direction before exiting.
Unlocking her rented car she eased into the grey, suede seat, tossed her bag on the passenger seat and inserted the key into the ignition. Jessie exhaled and leaned back into the seat. She expected to feel some uncertainty; her inside voice screaming, ‘what the hell are you doing? Instead she felt calm and surprisingly, kind of cold. She reached over to figure out how to get the heat on, also checked out the radio, and finally returned to the key and twisted it, bringing the machine to life. Before she slipped the car into reverse, she remembered to pull her phone out of her coat and made sure the GPS was active. This was it. She was on the road to the rest of her life. Jessie had no idea how, but she knew she was making the right choice.
*******
Jessie, she felt, had always been in tune with her sense of déjà vu, more so than other people. There was always a scent in the street, her apartment, walking past someone in the bar that could take her back to her childhood, last week, last year. But nothing compared to the feelings that overwhelmed her driving the two plus hours to Duke Island. It was like she was coming home, although she had never ventured this far out of the city that she had moved to a few months earlier. The only long distance she had gone, to be honest, was the farthest Starbucks from her apartment, seventeen blocks away.
