They’re making cuts in my department.
Perfect. Felix is going to lose his job because he started smoking, and now my department is getting cut to shreds – and this is just the first round of layoffs.
It’s a good thing I have an inheritance coming.
I can’t help thinking about Eddie’s night in jail, and once again, I wonder if that will disqualify him for his share.
Of course that means someone would have to let the lawyer know about it.
Are you okay?
Felix has texted me the same question three times, and each time I answer the same way:
Yes, we’ll talk later.
Are you sure you’re okay?
Yes, we’ll talk later.
He squirms around in the front passenger’s seat, turning to look at me so many times I finally put on my headphones and pretend to go to sleep. I don’t even have music on. Just in case Felix opens his big mouth, I want to hear it.
Because the drive is so long, our lunch stop is short. It takes place at an exit filled with multiple gas stations and fast-food restaurants, all within a one-block radius.
‘Twenty minutes,’ Eddie says. ‘Get whatever you need and meet me back at this gas station.’
Portia takes the opportunity to load up on alcohol while Eddie pays for the gas. They’re alone together in the convenience store, and this is what I’m thinking about when Felix asks me about the downsizing.
‘Don’t tell them,’ I say to Felix. ‘It’s none of their business what’s happening at work.’
‘Understood.’
‘Did your department get cut?’
‘One person so far.’
I nod. He’s right. We have no idea what’s coming next, and we aren’t at the office to hear the gossip.
‘I’ll check in with Sandra,’ I say. She’s my closest friend at work, and the only one I’d talk to about this.
‘We’ll be okay,’ Felix says. He doesn’t mention the inheritance, but I know he’s thinking about it. That kind of pisses me off, given his new smoking habit. I now think of the inheritance as mine, not ours.
Strange what money can do.
He pretends to go find the restroom when he’s really going to smoke. I walk across the street to Arby’s and load up on roast beef sandwiches. We’re going to need more than alcohol and tobacco to get through the rest of this drive.
While standing in line, I look out the window and see Eddie come out of the convenience store. Even from across the street, he is a good-looking man. I don’t how I got a brother who looks more like a model than a regular guy, but I did. Not that our parents were ugly, but neither was as good-looking as Eddie.
He’s talking on his phone, gesturing with one hand like the other person can see him. He paces along the length of the car, alternating between talking and listening. Someone is making him agitated.
Portia comes out of the store next. She isn’t classically good-looking like Eddie, but she does have long legs, short shorts, and boots. That’s enough to turn the head of every man at the gas station.
She’s carrying two bags from the store, one obviously with bottles in it, and she already has a cup in her hand. Maybe they serve mixed drinks at the convenience store. It wouldn’t surprise me in Montana.
‘Ma’am.’
The girl behind the counter is pointing to my food, which is all bagged up and ready to go. I grab it.
Ma’am, my ass. Another reason to leave this state. They’re too polite.
I stuff napkins and condiments into the bag, still looking out the window to see what else is going on. Felix returns from behind the store. Tall, lanky, and so very pale. Today he’s wearing a Denver Broncos shirt and that orange color does him no favors. He puts a stick of gum in his mouth before returning to the car, and it pisses me off. Tonight maybe I’ll take his cigarettes again. No, his lighter. It must be so much worse to have a cigarette but not be able to light it.
By the time I get across the street, Eddie has pulled the car away from the gas pump and into a parking space. He’s back inside the convenience store.
‘Coffee,’ Portia says. She’s doing some semi-suggestive stretching behind the car.
I hand Felix a roast beef sandwich.
‘No mayo?’ he says.
Mayo.
That goddamn mayo.
You want to know why I cheated on Felix? Because of this right here.
I was at a bridal shower for a friend of mine from college. It was an after-work event because most of us had jobs and many had children. Saturdays and Sundays were out. The host was a woman named Clarabel. No kidding. She was bouncy and perky, the type who loved to organize things. A lot like Krista, actually.
We had drinks and finger sandwiches and fancy deviled eggs served on lace doilies while my friend opened her presents. Nothing about the shower was unusual until the stripper showed up, and then the shower turned into a bachelorette party.
He was dressed as a cop, sent to ‘investigate a noise complaint’ and we all believed this. I know I did – never even noticed his bright eyes and big dimples. I thought he was a cop right up until he tore off his shirt to reveal his tanned, greased-up muscles. This guy had more than a six-pack. Had to be at least eight.
More drinks. Less food. The party lasted longer than I thought.
When the stripper finally stopped grinding on the bride, I called Felix and said I was on my way home.
‘I’m going to stop on the way home. I need a burger or something,’ I said. ‘You want one?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘I’ll be home soon.’
‘Okay. Oh,’ he said. ‘And no mayo.’
No mayo.
Felix has hated mayo since I met him. He says so every time we get sandwiches or burgers, veggie or real, doesn’t matter. Even fish sticks and chicken nuggets, he says it. No mayo. And he said it again that night.
Like I didn’t know.
That’s why I stopped the stripper as he walked to his car. That’s why I had sex with him in the back of mine. And I don’t even have a thing about men in uniforms.
It was because of the mayo. Because he said it over and over again, like he didn’t think I was smart enough to remember. Because Felix is just like that, always has been.
And here he is, still asking.
Every time Felix mentions mayo, I think of that stripper. This is why I can’t be the heroine. A cheating wife is one of the deal breakers.
‘No,’ I say, handing Felix the Arby’s roast beef. ‘No mayo.’
‘Cool.’ He unwraps the sandwich and takes a big bite while climbing into the passenger’s seat.
Eddie comes out of the convenience store with an oversized coffee cup in his hand. He takes a sip, makes a face, and takes another. I walk over and meet him halfway, so no one can hear what I say.
‘Roast beef?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Only with cheese left,’ I say, handing him a sandwich. I lean in a little closer. ‘I forgot to tell you. I got a text from Krista.’
His eyes widen, his head rears back. ‘You did?’
‘Yeah. She said she’s fine. Got home okay.’
‘That’s it?’
‘That’s it.’
Lie.
I haven’t heard from Krista at all, but what I do know is that Eddie’s reaction was genuine. He’s not a good enough actor to fake that kind of surprise.
Have you found this journal helpful?
… um, no? It’s a way to pass the time and it helps put me to sleep. And honestly, now that I’m driving all day I fall asleep pretty fast, so it’s not even that helpful anymore.
Dr Lang would say this is just a tool and it’s not the only one available, so I’ll just go along with that for now unless I think of something else, but I probably won’t.
I’m watching that Honda. One guy driving, no other passengers. I’m not about to tell anyone else about him, not even Beth, because the last thing I need is for everyone to frea
k out. I mean, it’s just a guy in a maroon Honda. Maybe he thinks I’m cute. Wouldn’t be the first time some old guy followed me because of that.
Bet he wouldn’t think I was so cute if he knew I was pregnant.
Montana is called Big Sky Country, and that’s a true statement. Big sky, open land, and long, long drives. It’s also called the Treasure State, but I don’t know anything about that. We’ve only driven through Montana, never stopped to look for treasure. Our destination is the strip of Idaho between Washington and Montana. Yes, that’s right. Our goal is Idaho.
Last time, we had a moment in Idaho. A real, lasting moment that altered the course of our trip.
I’m hoping this visit is a lot less exciting. The drive there certainly is. I’ve already thought about all the things worth thinking about, so unless I start obsessing about one of them, there’s no place for my mind to go. If I didn’t have to look over my shoulder every five minutes to make sure someone wasn’t stabbing me in the back, I would’ve fallen asleep.
Portia is the one who keeps it interesting. She combines her alcoholic beverages with Hostess cupcakes, so she gets buzzed pretty quick. Not a normal buzz, either. She’s also wired from all the sugar.
She starts telling a story about her last boyfriend, a guy named Jagger. They met ‘at work’.
‘Where do you work again?’ Felix says.
‘A bar. It’s called Young Guns.’
Lie. It’s called Young Buns.
Jagger worked at the same bar, but after they started getting serious he switched shifts so they didn’t have to deal with any weird shit. Her words.
They had lockers at work for their bags and wallets, and that’s where the relationship began.
‘I started finding little gifts at my locker,’ she says. ‘A flower, a little note telling me how beautiful I looked. I knew it was someone who worked there because of what he left. Like, one day I talked about how much I loved tangerines and the next day that’s what I’d find. A tangerine.’
‘Wait,’ Felix says. ‘You didn’t think that was creepy?’
Portia rolls her eyes while taking another swig of her drink. In the car, she uses a sippy cup. ‘Of course it was creepy. At the time, I mean. But I already told you this guy became my boyfriend, so obviously it didn’t turn out creepy.’
Felix nodded, eyes wide. ‘Got it.’
‘Good,’ she says. ‘Moving on. This continued for a couple of weeks. I started looking forward to seeing what would come next, because the gifts started getting more elaborate. Like, one flower became half a dozen, or a one-line note became a whole poem.’
She stops. I’m sitting sideways in the middle row, back against the door, so I can see both Felix in the front and her in the back. She’s smiling.
‘What?’ I say.
‘I was just thinking of the last gift. The one where he finally signed his name.’
The whole time she is talking, I keep thinking the story sounds a little familiar. Like something out of a CW show or a Netflix series, the kind of thing I’d watch unintentionally. I assume she’s lying, and that there never was any Jagger.
‘Bluebells,’ she says. ‘He left me a whole bouquet of bluebells.’ Another smile, followed by a wistful glance out the window.
She is lying. I just had the source wrong. This story doesn’t come from a TV show. ‘Your favorite flower,’ I say.
‘Exactly.’
This is Nikki’s story. Close to it, anyway. This is how she met Cooper.
He left gifts at her locker, and the bluebell was her favorite flower. We heard it all, multiple times, because Nikki loved to talk about it. Portia stole parts of Nikki’s story, made up the rest, and came up with her own version. Maybe she’s too drunk to realize the story isn’t hers.
Eddie laughs. ‘You’re lying.’
‘Excuse me?’ Portia says.
‘There’s no way that could happen. First, how many people work at this bar? How difficult would it be to figure out who was leaving all these presents?’
‘It’s a pretty big bar …’
‘So if it’s that big of a bar, how are there not cameras? In New Orleans? And why wasn’t anyone worried that an employee was receiving all these gifts? Jesus, I think this guy broke a few stalker laws.’
‘I’m not lying,’ Portia says. I can’t blame her for digging in and defending her lie. When you get caught, sometimes you have to.
Eddie snorts.
Snorts.
‘Oh, okay. If you say so,’ he says.
Portia leans forward on the back of my seat, getting as close to Eddie as she can without climbing over. ‘This is my story, not your story. I think I know what’s true and what’s not.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘What do you even care? Like it matters who I date or how I got a boyfriend?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Eddie says. ‘I’m just not going to sit here and listen to such an obvious lie without saying something.’
‘Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you had joined the truth police.’
‘I can’t help if you’re a terrible liar.’
‘You also can’t help being an asshole.’
Eddie shrugs in that nonchalant yet infuriating way. Portia lies back down on her seat. Felix stares at his phone. I can’t tell if what I just heard was an act or a real argument, because they’re both right. Eddie pointed out the obvious holes in Portia’s story, yet at the same time, why the hell should he care?
‘Check the GPS, will you? See how much longer.’
Now Eddie is talking to Felix. Rather, he’s ordering Felix around.
‘Sure,’ Felix says, reaching over to the touchscreen in the middle of the dash. The same touchscreen Eddie has been using the whole trip.
‘Is your hand broken?’ I say to Eddie.
‘Three hours,’ Felix says.
‘Thanks.’
Eddie does not answer me. Instead, he says, ‘We’ll stop once more before we get there, so figure out now what you need to pick up.’
Portia pokes her head up to give him a dirty look. She lies back down without saying a word.
In the rearview mirror, I see Eddie smile. He switches the music to an annoying song from the eighties. We’ve listened to this before and we’ve complained about it. Now he not only turns it back on, he turns it up.
All of a sudden, I realize what he’s doing. He’s done it before.
What do you most fear?
Nothing. Most of the time, anyway. I really don’t have time for deep introspection right now, I’m a little busy.
But I’m a little tired of that guy following us. I don’t know if I’m scared, but I’m definitely annoyed. What I’d really like to do is pull over and ask him who the hell he is and what he wants, but I won’t. Not with Portia and all the others around. If I was alone, I’d do it, though. I swear I would.
Nobody ever gives me credit for that – being brave, I mean. They always say I act without thinking and I’m impulsive and blah, blah, blah. How about brave? Why can’t I ever be that?
On the first trip, I sat up front with Nikki on the second half of the drive through Montana. She needed a navigator she could trust, and Portia was too small. Eddie slept too much.
Nikki and I talked a lot during that long drive, and listening to her was my favorite thing. She was talking to me again, just like when we were younger. After a while, whatever thrill she got from taking over the trip started to fade. I was the one she told.
‘I’m so tired of driving,’ she said.
I wondered if she was tired because she was pregnant. Mom wasn’t overly tired when she was pregnant with Portia, but that was her fourth child. This was Nikki’s first.
‘You sure you’re okay?’ I asked.
‘I just said I’m tired.’
I waited a second, then said, ‘Have you talked to Coop?’ Cooper, also known as Coop, was her on-off boyfriend. When they were on, she talked about him. When they were off, she would only say he was a big dick
– ‘and not the good kind’. I didn’t understand that at first.
‘Coop? He’s a dick,’ Nikki said. She glanced over at me. ‘Why are you asking me that?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I just thought you might have called him or something.’
‘I haven’t.’
‘Okay.’
We were both silent for a minute, and then she said, ‘It’s just all this driving. I hate it.’
‘Lie. You love driving.’
‘Not anymore.’
‘You sure that’s all it is?’ I asked.
‘Yes. Jesus.’
No matter what I said, or how many ways I tried to ask, she never told me about the pregnancy test. And I didn’t want to tell her that I snooped.
‘Seriously,’ she said. ‘I think this is it.’
I sat up and leaned in toward her. ‘What’s it?’
‘After we’re done with the theme park, we have to call Mom and Dad.’
I shook my head. ‘No way.’
‘We have to go home sometime,’ she said. ‘We can’t stay out here forever.’
No one said anything about forever. It was just supposed to be until we got to the Pacific Ocean.
I didn’t want to go home. For once, we were free, or as free as we ever had been. We could sleep, eat, and watch TV whenever we wanted. We could go anywhere, pretend to be anyone, and we weren’t really doing anything bad – it’s not like we had killed anyone. Nikki and I were in it together. We were partners. That was all I ever wanted.
‘They’ll come get us,’ Nikki said. ‘We won’t have to drive home. I mean, you heard how angry Mom sounded last night. She’ll fly here in a second.’
That was true. I did miss Mom and Dad and my friends. I missed my bed, my room, my window. I even missed eating healthy food.
But I missed Nikki even more. At home, we weren’t like this. She ignored me most of the time.
‘Think about the stories you’ll get to tell in school,’ Nikki said. ‘Everyone will be so jealous we did this.’ She looked over at me, a big smile on her face. ‘You can even say we did it together.’
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