by Lori L. Lake
“No no no. You pick what you want. The driver should always get to choose.”
“Don’t you mean the person who’s awake chooses?”
Jay smirked at her. “Very funny. I’m not asleep yet.” She adjusted her seat to lean back slightly and put on her seat belt.
From the small crate on the floor, Dez picked up a CD she’d recently bought and unwrapped the plastic around it. Peering closely, she picked away at the clear adhesive tape on the top. “Don’t you just hate these damn CD wrappers? I’ve got no clue why they feel they have to weld them shut.” She painstakingly peeled the tape off, inserted the disk, and stuck the cellophane and tape in the garbage holder.
Dez looked at the dashboard clock: 12:37. She put the truck in gear and exited the parking lot as the strains of her new Ann Reed CD started. When the chorus came, she was intrigued to hear words closely echoing her own feelings:
I’ve spent some time being somebody else,
surprised to find I can still be myself.
Oh, love’s a long road home . . .
She accelerated on to the freeway, set the cruise control and let out a deep breath.
What a ride, what a trip it’s been,
looking back I’d hardly change it a bit,
Oh, love’s a long road home . . .
When the song ended, she hit the replay and listened to it all over again.
She glanced over at Jaylynn and couldn’t help but smile when she saw Jaylynn slumped against the window, already crashed, her face relaxed and soft. Her short hair shone white in the moonlight slanting in the window. Dez looked at the clock on the dash: 12:44. Seven minutes. She shook her head. Geez, if I could go to sleep that quick and sleep as soundly—well, I’m jealous, that’s for sure. Tossing the black baseball cap behind the seat, she ran a hand through her hair and brushed it out of her eyes, remembering exactly why she tied it back or braided it most of the time. She turned down the music a notch, but she could still hear it clearly:
Everyday
This road don’t stay the same,
It’s smooth, it buckles, it’s firm, it falls apart.
It’s just the road of the heart . . .
The dark road and the music calmed to her nerves, and she thought about the last several months. She felt like she’d been on a long forced march, short of energy, short of faith, bereft of all hope. Since Ryan died . . . She didn’t like to think about it, but if she were honest, it had been a year of hell. She wasn’t sure why the world seemed to have returned to a reasonable equilibrium, why she suddenly, without any warning or explanation, regained some sort of inner balance. All she knew for sure was she had a wild yearning to feel alive again, to feel energy and excitement. It didn’t seem true to Ryan’s memory, but perhaps it wasn’t true to him to mourn indefinitely. She thought of the mischievous expression his face so often held and how much like a younger brother he always seemed, even though he was older. Remembering his constant teasing and good spirits brought a bittersweet smile to her face. Many days he’d been the only good thing about her heart-wrenching job. He was, anyway, until Jaylynn came along.
She heard a sigh and looked across the cab. Jaylynn shivered and groaned in her sleep. Dez clicked the heater up one notch, which, since she was perfectly comfortable, was all she thought she could bear. She flipped up the seat’s center arm console and grasped the steering wheel with her left hand. Using her right she fished around behind the seats until her fingers found the soft material of an old baby blue car blanket. She pulled it up and over, onto the top of the bench seat, and stretched across the truck cab to grip the sleeve of Jaylynn’s jacket. She shifted and let out a quiet whimper.
Dez tugged on her sleeve a bit more and Jaylynn turned to the left and leaned. Softly Dez said, “You can lie down, Jay.”
With a sigh, Jaylynn shifted the seat belt off her shoulder, and slid down onto the seat until her head came to rest using Dez’s thigh as a pillow.
That’s not quite what I had in mind, Dez thought. But she awkwardly unfolded the blanket one-handed and tucked it around the sleeping woman. She had to smile when Jaylynn’s response was to snuggle into the blanket and nestle up closer. She curled her legs up on the seat and fell back into a deep sleep.
The CD continued on to another song, and Dez listened to the words again. With a long arm she reached over Jaylynn and grabbed up the jewel case to check the song name: “Second Chance.”
Made mistakes, I know it’s true,
I know what I put you through
And I’m sorry I’m just beginning to see
You’re the one with most to lose
I’m the one who’s got to prove
That I’m tryin’, I’m beggin’ you please
For a second chance
One more try
Oh I don’t wanna live without that
One romance
A second chance with you . . .
Tentatively Dez placed her hand on Jaylynn’s shoulder and was surprised when Jaylynn shifted and pulled her hand to her chest so that Dez cradled her protectively, their fingers laced together.
Tears came to Dez’s eyes and spilled over. She wiped them awkwardly on her left shoulder, but they wouldn’t stop. Through brimming eyes, she looked out on the dark road snaking through the night. This woman doesn’t lie, not even in her sleep. She trusts me. She really does care about me. A sense of wonderment came over her. Looking down, she checked to see that Jaylynn was still out and was relieved to feel the sleeping woman’s even breathing. She didn’t know how she would explain to Jaylynn what she was feeling, but she knew she had to try sometime soon. She looked at the clock: 1:20. She figured she had another two hours or so to consider.
I am so cold, too cold. Jaylynn lay on her side, and through sleepy eyes, she saw the crackling fire. But the small blaze didn’t give off enough heat to warm her. She crossed her arms over her chest and curled into a ball.
I am so numb, so very cold. She couldn’t wake up though, couldn’t rouse herself enough to sit up and find a way to warm herself.
Cool night air blew against her face and the smell of freshly cut pasture tickled her nose. Over the sound of crickets she heard a shuffle and then a toasty warm arm encircled her chest. A blanket covered her, and hot flesh pressed against the entire length of the back of her, radiating heat. Warm breath against her neck, a hand pressed flat against her chest. She laced her fingers with the toasty hand and slipped deeper into the dreams that beckoned her.
Oh, thank you, she thought as she went under. Thank you so very much.
“Hey, Sleepyhead. Wake up.”
Jaylynn opened her eyes and took a deep breath. “Don’t wanna.”
“We’re on the hill going down into Duluth. If you wake up now, you may be able to catch sight of the lake before we hit the industrial park.”
Jaylynn let out a groan and snuggled deeper under the blanket. “It’s pitch black out,” she groused. “Unless there’s a million lights shining on the lake, I won’t be able to see a thing.” She moved her right hand and found she was touching warm skin, a hand definitely not her own. She let go and sat up with a start, gaping at Dez out of the corner of her eye as she settled herself on the other side of the seat.
“Ah, now you’re awake.”
“Yeah, yeah, I am.” She ran both hands nervously through her short hair and smoothed it down. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to use you as a pillow.”
“Liar. Yes, you did,” Dez said, holding back a smile.
“No, really. I apologize. Won’t happen again.”
Dez couldn’t hold it in any longer. She laughed out loud. “You mean it won’t happen again until at least the trip home.”
Jaylynn relaxed. “Can I help it if you’re like a forest fire over there?” She playfully punched Dez in the arm.
“Can I help it if you’re some sort of heat seeking miss?”
“Ha ha. Very funny. For someone who got off shift in the crabbiest mood on earth, you sure
are in a good mood now.” She looked at the dashboard clock. “Is it my imagination or have we been listening to this same CD for hours?”
“Yes, we have.”
“You could have switched—it wouldn’t have woke me up.”
“A car crash wouldn’t wake you up.” Dez grinned. “It’s a CD I just got. I like it.” She increased the volume. “I decided Ann Reed’s my new favorite artist.”
Jaylynn closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She felt nervous, her stomach skipping and churning. She sneaked a glance at Dez from the corner of her eye and was surprised to see the happy, content look on her face. “Hey, I like your hair loose. You should wear it that way more often.”
Even though she couldn’t actually see her in the darkened cab, she knew Dez was blushing as she said, “Thanks. But it’s like a horse’s tail. Drives me crazy, so I usually tie it back.” She steered the truck through one of the many Duluth tunnels and emerged onto a darkened main street.
Jaylynn stroked Dez’s hair and tangled her fingers in it for a moment before reluctantly moving her hand away. “Yup, it’s thick, isn’t it? And nice. My hair doesn’t have near the body.”
Before she knew it, a big hand shot over and palmed the back of her head, tweaking her hair. “I can imagine you with long hair.”
“Oh, it was long. I wore it long most of my life and only got it cut a couple of years ago, much to my mother’s chagrin. This is much easier though.”
“Maybe I have seen you before when you had long hair,” Dez said thoughtfully. “From the first time I saw you, you looked familiar to me.” She went right onto Canal Park Drive, and when they crested the hill, she knew Lake Superior was just beyond.
“It’s funny you should say that,” Jaylynn said. “I sort of thought I knew you from somewhere, but I always wondered if maybe I imagined it. Maybe you saw me on campus my freshman year when my hair was long.”
Dez shrugged. “Who knows?” She looked across the cab and grinned, then wheeled into the parking area and nosed the truck into a spot facing east. She shut off the engine and looked at the clock. “Sun’ll be up before too long.”
“Dez?”
She turned to look at Jaylynn.
“It’s three o’clock in the morning.”
“Ten after three.”
“Whatever. Unless I miss my guess, it’s two or three hours before sunrise.”
“What’s your point?”
“It’s dark, nothing’s open, we have to wait hours for this wondrous event, and it’s getting cold in here.”
Dez shook her head and gave a big sigh. “You are such a wuss.”
Jaylynn gave her a happy smile. “I didn’t sign on to be frozen to death. You want to keep the heater on low?”
“What a waste of gas. Just come over here.”
Jaylynn squinted at her partner in the darkness. Dez reclined her seat a couple notches, tilted the steering wheel up, and lifted the blanket from the middle of the seat. Hesitantly Jaylynn unhooked her seatbelt. She cast an anxious glance as she slid over. Dez fluffed the blanket and gathered Jaylynn up against her. With long arms, she tucked the blanket around Jaylynn’s legs and shifted her own hips so she faced her slightly and her back was angled partly against the driver’s door.
Jaylynn snuggled into Dez’s light embrace, her ear against a wildly beating heart. She hugged her left arm to her own chest and tentatively put her right arm around her partner’s middle. In response Dez encircled her tightly and cuddled her close, her chin resting on the top of Jaylynn’s head.
They cuddled together, wordlessly, for some time, and after a few minutes, their hearts calmed. The last thing Dez remembered before slipping off to sleep was a feeling of comfort and relaxation, a feeling that had not come to her for many months.
Jaylynn sleepily opened her eyes. She sat on a rocky promontory high above the sea. The ground was chilly despite the blanket she sat on, but she was mostly warm due to the morning sun streaming down upon her and the heating pad enveloping her back. She smelled the fresh sea air, and before her she watched a roiling ocean of water. Cozy and content, she sighed. Wow, that’s an amazing heating pad—and it’s outside, too. Wonder where the cord is? She turned her head, only to find she was nestled into the arms of one scorchingly heated woman.
Tilting her head up and back, Jaylynn studied her. The slumbering woman leaned back against the wall of a cliff, her eyes closed. Worry lines creased her forehead, and a tiny V-shaped scar arced above her right brow, but otherwise, her face was unmarked. Without warning, bright blue eyes popped open and focused on her, and a feeling of glee arose. I know you! You are . . . who are you? Confused and perplexed, she frowned. Strong arms tighten around her middle, and lips, soft and moist, tickled the skin on the side of her neck.
Her thoughts were in a jumble. Disjointed images rose in her mind, images of burning buildings and the sensation of falling, of bloodthirsty monsters with huge gaping teeth giving chase, of spaceships crashing, and of pain coursing through her body. Wait, she thought in a panic as she looked about her. She saw only the jagged rocks, felt only the warmth of the sun on her legs. Are they coming? Are we safe? She struggled and the arms tightened around her middle. This doesn’t happen in my dreams. You’re supposed to save me. I’ll do my part, but I don’t recall how we got here, to this place.
She heard a voice whispering in her ear. Shhh. It’s okay. Everything will be fine. Trust me . . . it’ll be fine . . .
Dez awoke with a start as a seagull swept low making a high-pitched “kwee-kwee” noise. It didn’t get a stir from the slumbering bundle nestled up against her. She hugged Jaylynn tighter and looked out across the parking lot and toward the horizon. The sun would soon emerge, but at the moment all she could see of the lake was a solid dark gray mass and the faintest line where the sea met sky.
She took a deep breath and thought about Jaylynn and their relationship and how it was changing. She felt as though a deep chasm had been bridged, and the chasm was all due to her own failure to understand the first thing about Jaylynn—not to mention herself.
What did Luella say about the two of them? Something about them being drawn to one another like those violets on her windowsill. Dez could admit Luella was right. She couldn’t explain it at all, but the way she was drawn to the person in her arms was more than she could resist. And she knew somehow that the feeling was mutual, though the idea scared the hell out of her. She’d faced down robbers and police chiefs, street thugs and drug runners, but none of them made her blood run cold with fear the way the idea of revealing her feelings to Jaylynn did. At the same time, she felt a certainty about the rightness of doing it that made her resolve to figure out how to broach the subject.
One moment the world seemed dusky gray, and the next Dez saw fluorescent pink begin to appear before her. The lake shifted from an inky black mass to a choppy gray sea right before her eyes. Gradually, rays of sun peeked over the edge of the horizon, and Canal Park became more visible. Over her shoulder was the bronze statue of the old man and the sea. To her left and stretching around in front of them was a rocky beach full of stones and rip-rap. A leaning metal anchor, taller than Dez’s head, was planted in the middle of a raised platform. All around it seagulls landed and walked, bobbing along in the wind like bits of Styrofoam.
Jaylynn shifted. “Dez?”
“Yes?”
She sat up and stretched her neck, then gazed into serious blue eyes. “Do you know your heart beats only fifty-four times in a minute?”
“That’s the last thing I expected to hear,” Dez said, laughing. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve been counting all night.”
“No, you’ve been sleeping all night.”
Jaylynn sat up and reached for Dez’s hand. “I’ve been awake for the last few minutes. I thought you were asleep still.”
“Nah, just watching the sun come up.” The sun was now peeping up over the horizon, and the light was bright. “It’s
going to be a nice day. Windy, but pretty.”
Jaylynn leaned her head against Dez’s shoulder and squeezed her hand. “What are we doing once the sun’s up?”
“I can guess what your vote is.” As Dez spoke, they both heard the rumble from Jaylynn’s stomach.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m hungry. As usual.”
Dez let go of Jaylynn’s hand and moved to start the engine, but Jaylynn grabbed her arm to stop her. “Wait. Let’s stay ’til the sun’s all the way up. Then we can find a place to eat.” If the truth were told, she’d have to say she couldn’t care less about the sun at that moment, but she didn’t want to break the spell they both were under.
“All right.” Dez opened her hand and looked at her palm. Jaylynn shyly placed her smaller hand against it and intertwined their fingers. She looked up into Dez’s eyes, unsure if this was okay. The warm twinkle of the blue eyes greeting her set her mind at ease.
Dez said, “Do you sometimes wish we could start over, maybe meet all over again for the first time? Like at a coffeeshop or—or a basketball game, or maybe at a party?”
“I don’t know. This has seemed so fated, so, hmmm, I’m not sure how to explain this, but it seems almost—”
“Like some sort of strange destiny?”
“Yeah. Do you believe in that?”
“I didn’t use to.” She paused. “But maybe I do now.”
They stopped at a bakery on Superior Street. “Mmm, it smells so good in here,” Jaylynn said. “Don’t you love the smell of baking and cinnamon?” Dez nodded as she studied the huge variety of donuts in the long glass display case.
They bought donuts, coffee for Jaylynn, and bottles of water. As Dez stood at the register, insisting on paying for the treats, Jaylynn said, “Do you mean to tell me you’re actually going to eat two apple fritters?”