Unexpected Journey

by J. D. Walker

  Unexpected Journey

  By J.D. Walker

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2019 J.D. Walker

  ISBN 9781634869355

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  It’s never too late to start over. The journey is all that matters.

  * * * *

  Unexpected Journey

  By J.D. Walker

  “I’m sorry, John, but the company is downsizing drastically and we’ve had to make deep cuts.”

  This was Helen Pasterwick’s way of saying I was out the door after fifteen fucking years of mental sweat and toil for an ungrateful corporation.

  “You can’t be serious.” I could see that the human resources director was uncomfortable with this conversation, and I knew why. But it was still hard to take.

  She shifted in her leather chair. “The list is growing as we speak. Unfortunately, they’ve decided to merge your job with someone else’s. It’s unfair, and I fought it, believe me. You’re the most seasoned architect we have, and you work the longest hours. But in the end, they won. You’re to clean out your desk, effective immediately.”

  I slumped in my chair, trying to keep the fury inside me at bay. I was this close to throwing a temper tantrum and putting my foot through a computer monitor, though it wouldn’t be as satisfying with a twenty-inch flat screen as it would have been with an old school CRT. Visions of the movie Office Space came to mind.

  “I don’t know what to say. This is a shock, Helen.” I ran a hand through my salt-and-pepper hair, the blond becoming more silver with each passing day. I was sure I would be entirely gray in a month after this. Or less.

  She looked at me with sympathy. “You haven’t been happy here for years. Admit it. Maybe this is the push you need to finally take stock and figure out what you really want to do with your life. It’s time, wouldn’t you say?” The fact that Helen had known about my dissatisfaction wasn’t helping.

  I scowled. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Platitudes in some fucked up attempt to provide solace for losing my goddamned livelihood?” At her startled glance, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Forgive me, it’s a lot to take in.” I stood, joints popping. I needed to get away. I decided not to straighten my tie which had become askew while I’d yanked on it repeatedly. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  I walked out of the office, not really hearing whatever other apology she might have uttered. I simply needed to be gone. And the thought of where to go…

  * * * *

  By the time I was ready to leave, my shoulders felt weighed down by my jobless reality. I strode between the cubicles, no one willing to look me in the eye for fear that my current unemployed state might rub off on them. A security officer accompanied me to my vehicle. It felt as if I’d walked the green mile, no possible reprieve in sight. For a man at the age of forty-nine, this felt like a death sentence.

  I drove my pre-owned SUV home, which was a condo I’d purchased eleven months ago after an amicable break-up with my boyfriend of two years. I’d wanted a new start, away from things that would remind me of him and all we’d done together. It wasn’t that we hated each other. Far from it. But we were better off as friends. I needed someone less like me, someone passionate and lively to be my other half. I’d finally learned that after numerous relationships with clones of myself.

  But now, I had nothing to offer. I had savings, sure, and perhaps six months or so to find another position as an architect before I became desperate. Did I want that, though? Grudging as I might be, Helen could be right. Still, I couldn’t face any of that at the moment. I needed time to think.

  I placed the half-full box that was the detritus of an unsatisfactory career in the hall closet. I didn’t need the reminder of my failure to be valued by an employer anywhere in sight. I took a quick shower, heated up leftover pasta, and watched TV for hours while drinking beer after beer. The perfect end to a lousy hump day.

  When I awoke at six the next morning—my usual time—I had a hangover and fuzzy teeth. I stumbled to the bathroom to freshen up and empty a full bladder before weaving my way to the kitchen. It was Thursday, and I had nothing to do.

  I emptied corn flakes into a bowl and poured almond milk over it. I preferred it to cow’s milk, sometimes, for the taste. As I lifted the spoon to my mouth, there was a knock on the door.

  * * * *

  Mrs. Patricia Lombard, the retired social worker down the hall, needed help with her kitchen sink again. She knew I was an early riser, and the plumbing issue was usually an easy fix, something I could do even before I left for the office at eight-thirty. Or rather, when I used to have a job. I told her to give me a minute and I’d be there. Perfect start to the rest of my life.

  I finished breakfast and grabbed my toolbox before heading over to her place. Mrs. Lombard had five cats and bookshelves lined almost every wall. Cat hair was everywhere. Good thing I wasn’t allergic. While I fixed the leak, she told me about her grandson who would be coming to visit before he got bogged down with his Doctorate studies in Philosophy. Why would anyone want to study that? What the hell use was philosophy in real life, anyway? Admittedly, I couldn’t see the use in much of anything, right then.

  This grandson, Hollis Lombard, was something of a genius, I was given to understand, and I heard all about his merits and brilliance as I worked. I’d be surprised if he couldn’t walk on water, the way she was hyping him up.

  When I was done, she escorted me to the door. “You should come over for dinner on Friday night. It would give Hollis someone young to talk to.” I supposed in her eyes, I was a whippersnapper.

  I grunted without really saying anything, and she patted my cheek with a “thank you” before I disappeared back to my condo. God, what was I getting myself into?

  By the time Friday dawned, I was almost stir crazy. It was the longest time I’d ever spent at home with nothing to do. I’d done a lot of sitting on the balcony and staring at the birds flying around in the trees nearby. There was a park in the distance, and I’d been tempted to go out and get some fresh air, but I couldn’t face the public. Not yet.

  That night, I dragged my feet over to my neighbor’s door and knocked. I hoped it would be quick because I had things to do. Like, vegetate in front of the TV with more beer.

  The door opened, and I promptly forgot everything as I stared at the most fascinating features I’d ever beheld.

  * * * *

  “You must be John Dornbrook,” the vision before me said, and all I could do was nod. He smiled and stepped back. I shuffl
ed by him, uncomfortably aware of my old T-shirt, worn jeans and disheveled hair. I’d been running my hands through it all day and hadn’t bothered to comb it. Oh, and I hadn’t shaved, either.

  “I’m Hollis, as I’m sure you’ve heard from Gran.” His grin showed slightly crooked teeth that made him seem approachable, and took nothing away from his beauty.

  His light brown, slightly up-tilted eyes were so full of life, I felt like a staid lump of coal by comparison. His skin was a caramel-like color and I wanted to touch it. Raven hair that fell just past his shoulders in waves swayed as he moved ahead of me toward the kitchen.

  “That you, John?” I heard Mrs. Lombard call out.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I replied, intimately aware of Hollis nearby, his scent wrapping around me and drawing me in. Shit, I was either desperate or it had been so long since I’d desired someone, I’d forgotten what that felt like. Likely, it was my topsy-turvy emotions that kept me on an uneven keel.

  By the time we reached the kitchen, I was a bundle of nerves. “Welcome, John. I see you’ve met Hollis,” Mrs. Lombard greeted me before pointing to a chair. “Have a seat and relax, love.”

  I did, and then watched as Hollis and his grandmother worked together to get the food on the table, along with a carafe of lemonade with ice.

  “I hope you like beef stroganoff,” Hollis said, and I looked up at him, surprised. He chuckled. “Yes, I can cook. It’s probably one of the main reasons Gran likes it when I visit. I pay my way with food.” Mrs. Lombard swatted him playfully, and he kissed her cheek.

  They resembled each other in facial features, though Mrs. Lombard’s hair was snow white, and her brown eyes a lighter shade. It should have occurred to me that my neighbor had Native American ancestry, since it was so obvious in Hollis. Had I been that oblivious?

  Once everyone was seated, Mrs. Lombard served food onto our plates and we dived in. Oh, it was heaven. Hollis was an excellent cook. I moaned aloud and I heard his snicker, which made me, a man almost fifty, blush in embarrassment.

  “No, don’t feel bad,” Hollis was quick to say. “I love it when people enjoy my food. It’s an important part of existence, to find joy in everything we do. It keeps us sane.” Ah, the philosophy major.

  I cleared my throat. “This is wonderful, you’re a marvelous cook.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, his smile crinkling his eyes at the corners. Hollis and his grandmother carried the conversation for the rest of the meal, with grunts from me on occasion.

  Later, when the table was cleared, I insisted on helping with the dishes, and Mrs. Lombard patted my cheek as usual, thanked me for coming over and spending time with them, and went to bed.

  That left me all alone with Hollis, and completely tongue-tied. That didn’t stop him, though. He talked about how he came to visit his grandmother every summer, to check on her and make sure she was taking care of herself. She had raised him after some bad stuff had happened with his immediate family, and she was his biggest fan, sometimes to embarrassing proportions.

  “Once,” he said, while drying a plate, “Gran was cheering me on at a football game when the referee made what she felt was an illegal call that affected my team. She ran out on the field, got in his face, and shoved him in the chest. I had to intervene before it got ugly. I was teased about that by my teammates for months.”

  I smiled reluctantly at his story and found myself relaxing, even with the strong reaction I had to the man. Hollis seemed to be a bright light in my currently bleak world.

  “Sounds like someone I’d like to have in my corner,” I said as I handed him a pot to dry.

  “She’s the best.”

  After the kitchen was clean, we sat at the table with coffee before us. Hollis asked, “So what do you do for fun, John Dornbrook? You seem like a solitary, quiet guy. Books or movies your thing?”

  I sighed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about it, to tell the truth. I lost my job on Wednesday, so my life is in limbo right now.” I almost smacked myself. Great, way to make him think of me as a loser. But then, what did I have to offer someone as vibrant as he was, with such a bright future ahead of him?

  Hollis was sympathetic. “I wondered why you seemed so sad this evening. A jolt like that can definitely send you into a tailspin. Were you with the company for a long time?”

  “Yes. Fifteen years.”

  “Hmm. And you haven’t been happy for a while either, I bet,” he added, before sipping his coffee.

  I snorted. “What are you, a mind reader?”

  “Not really, but it’s all over you, this dissatisfaction with your life, the search for meaning. Hey.” He placed his cup on the saucer and leaned forward. “Come take a trip with me.”

  I almost spewed hot liquid all over the table. “Say what, now?”

  “You have nothing to do, and I’d love to have a companion on my journey. It’s a trip I’ve wanted to make since I was a kid, and it would do you some good to get away, don’t you think? Maybe get some perspective? What do you say? Go on an adventure with me.”

  I wiped my mouth with the back of a slightly trembling hand. “Are you always this impulsive?”

  Hollis chuckled. “Yes.”

  “You-you don’t know me,” I stammered as thoughts tumbled in my head.

  He grinned. “We’ll get to know each other on the way.”

  This was crazy. “I could be a serial killer.”

  He looked me over and shook his head. “You’re not the type.”

  I tried to stare him down, but it wasn’t working. Those gorgeous eyes pleaded with me, and the urge to do anything other than sit on my couch all day suddenly hit me, hard.

  “Fine.” I sounded ungrateful, I knew that, but he’d blindsided me.

  Hollis clapped his hands and laughed. “This will be awesome. It’s a lot of driving, but I swear, it’ll be worth it.”

  And really, what did I have to lose?

  * * * *

  The next Monday, at five in the morning because Hollis swore it was the best time to start a road trip, we were on our way. I was grouchy and unshaven, just to prove a point, but he didn’t seem to mind. Hollis was excited enough for both of us, anyway. We stopped for coffee and breakfast at a fast food place before heading west on Highway 70 from Salina. Traffic built bit by bit, but it wasn’t so bad after we cleared the city.

  I felt better as the day dawned, and I could almost feel the weight of the world falling off my shoulders as we sped down the freeway. I glanced to my left and saw Hollis smiling as he hummed to the classical music that played on low volume through the car stereo. We’d decided to take my SUV since it was newer than his battered Toyota. I didn’t want to take that many chances.

  The windows were down and his hair moved with the breeze, as carefree and light as the man himself. How did he do it?

  “What are you thinking, John?” Hollis asked as he switched lanes to pass a car going at least ten miles slower than the speed limit.

  “That you’re an enigma. You just met me, and now we’re heading west. How did that happen?”

  He chuckled. “The universe works in mysterious ways. You have nothing to do, and I have the whole summer to fill. It was inevitable.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  Hollis laughed. “Then it’s time you did! Hey, we have less than seven hours before we reach Denver. Tell me about your old job. What did you do?”

  I didn’t want to bring it up, but perhaps talking about it and getting things out in the open would lessen the sting. “I was an architect. I’ve always enjoyed designing things, coming up with ideas, putting them on paper and seeing them built. It used to be a passion of mine, but that started to fade years ago, if I’m being honest. It became a chore, long hours, ridiculous deadlines, and little sleep. Churning out projects according to the firm’s vision rather than my own. It hurt being laid off, but admittedly I wasn’t happy, either.”

  “I get that.
Do you think you’d be content doing the same thing elsewhere? Or would you prefer a different direction?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It still hurts to think about it.”

  “Fair enough.” We drove for three hours before stopping at a rest area to stretch our legs. A guy was blocking the door to the bathrooms.

  “Sorry, my niece is in there and I don’t want to freak out the women in the other restrooms. You don’t mind waiting a sec, do you?”

  I wasn’t desperate and neither was Hollis. We both shook our heads and waited. After the man and his charge were gone, both of us went in to relieve ourselves, then found a bench outside and sat for a minute, drinking bottled water.

  “Life is beautiful, you know?” Hollis said, lifting his face to the sun, a peaceful smile on his lips. I almost reached out to touch him, wanting to feel his tranquility.

  Before I did something stupid, I drank some water and focused on the man from before who was playing a game of tag with his niece in the small park nearby. “I wonder what his story is?” I asked, using my chin to point in that direction.

  “Could be anything, right? Maybe someone died and he got custody, or he’s a favorite uncle and they’re taking a road trip, like we are. Life throws us shit and we have to find a way to deal. Everything’s for a reason.”

  I wanted to scoff, but I didn’t. He picked up on that, anyway. “You don’t believe me, I know. You’re too raw right now. But I think you’ll find that everything you’re experiencing at this very moment will lead you in the direction that’s been in the making for you all along. You just needed a nudge.”

  I found myself bristling with sudden, uncontrollable anger and got in his face. “What is this philosophical bullshit? What the fuck do you know about me? My goddamn life?” I saw his eyes widen as he backed up a little, and I deflated like a popped balloon. What the hell was I doing?

  Hollis didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Jesus, I was an old, stupid fool. “Hollis, forgive me. I—”

  He raised a hand. “No, forgive me. I always spout this stuff and forget that for everyone, there’s a different worldview and I can’t know what’s best all the time. There’s no right answer that suits the planet. It’s individual.” He stood. “Let’s go, huh? I want to be in Denver before two o’clock so we can chill out a bit before I take you to our first surprise.” The smile he gave me was bright, but sad at the edges.