I was struck with embarrassment. I couldn’t have gotten dressed for a date even if I’d wanted to. I rotated the same three pairs of jeans with seven different shirts. The only pairs of shoes I owned were the pair of tennis shoes I wore to work and a pair of boots I did everything else in. They weren’t even cute boots. They were the Target brand with thick rubber soles and wide straps.
“Hi,” I said sheepishly. “You look really nice.”
“So do you.”
I stood awkwardly on his front porch waiting to follow his lead wishing I hadn’t said yes. I’d thought about backing out all day and now I’d give anything to have followed through. He walked to his Chevy truck and opened the door, motioning for me to get in. I slid in and hooked my seatbelt as he climbed in next to me.
“Do you mind a little country?” he asked.
“That’s fine.” I’d never been a fan of country music but it seemed appropriate as we rolled along in his truck. I watched as we breezed down Main Street passing by The Little Crane. “Where are we going?”
“You didn’t think we were going to the Crane, did you?” he asked.
I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. “Where else would we go?”
“Girl, we’re not going to your place of work to eat. I’m getting you out of this town. When was the last time you got out of here?”
“It’s been awhile.”
I’d only left town twice to go to Target. Once before I started my job and later on when I had a better idea of what I needed. I got everything else I needed at Kwik Trip. I didn’t need much.
“You’re in for a treat tonight then. I’m taking you to one of my favorite spots. It’s beautiful.”
The restaurant was perched on the tip of a cliff overlooking Lake Superior. It looked like something on a postcard. I felt foolish as I walked in dressed the way I was, but was surprised to see I wasn’t the only one in jeans. Joe pulled my chair out for me. I stared out the window, biting my lip, and willing myself not to cry. It wasn’t right that I was here. None of this was right.
“Are you upset?” he asked.
“I don’t deserve this. None of this,” I said.
“You don’t deserve dinner? Everyone’s got to eat,” he said.
“But you’re being such a gentlemen.”
“Because I pulled your chair out for you? That’s just what men do. At least where I come from.”
It reminded me of David. I didn’t want to be on a date with Joe. I wanted to be on a date with David. I wanted him to pull my chair out for me, to touch me, and pull me close to him. I wanted him to look at me the way Joe looked at me.
“I’m married.”
“I figured as much.” He took a sip of his water.
“You did? Then why are we here?”
“It’s not like we’re on a date.”
I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment wash over me.
“Why’d you ask me to dinner, then?”
“Because you need a friend.”
I looked away, embarrassed. I felt foolish for thinking we were on a date. Who would feel attracted to me looking the way I looked? I picked up my napkin and began folding it. He reached across the table and put his hand on mine.
“Did I embarrass you? I’m sorry.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” I said, still trying to not make eye contact. My cheeks burned.
“I just want you to know—I’m not that guy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not the guy who takes advantage of women when they’re vulnerable and you look like you’re one step away from falling apart at any minute.” His brown eyes were soft, the specks of gold dancing in the setting sun. “You remind me of a baby deer. You have that same scared look in your eyes all the time. You never stay still even when you’re sitting. I watch you in meetings and sometimes I wonder if you’re remembering to breathe. Your eyes flit around the room constantly no matter where you are and you jump at every little sound.”
Was it that obvious? I thought I did a pretty good job at keeping it together. I worked hard at keeping my emotions at bay and my expression blank. I tried to greet each customer when they came in the door and forced myself to make eye contact even when I didn’t want to. Whenever I felt my emotions getting away from me, I started working math equations in my head. Adding up the number of salt packets and then dividing them by the number of tables. Anything to keep my mind distracted and from running away on me.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered.
He raised his eyebrows. “Do what? Have dinner? Make a friend?”
“Yes. All of it. I don’t deserve it.”
My emotions rose in my throat.
“Why? You think you’re the only one that’s done something terrible? The only one with pain? What have you done that’s so terrible you’re beyond redemption?”
“You don’t know what I’ve done.”
He smacked the table. “Because you won’t tell me. You answer questions in one-word sentences. You’re the queen of vague. How’s anyone in AA supposed to help you if you don’t tell them what’s really going on with you?”
“You don’t understand.” The tears in my eyes threatened to spill down my cheeks.
“Really? I don’t understand?” He leaned close to me, peering into my eyes. “I’ve killed someone and been to prison. I walk around with a scarlet letter branded on my forehead that’s never going to be removed. You don’t think people look at me and that’s the first thing they think about? I’m stuck in a town I hate because I have nowhere else to go. There’s a set of parents who cry every night because of what I took away from them, but you’re right—I don’t get it. I don’t understand.”
“Stop it. Why are you doing this?”
“I’m sorry. That was over the line. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He reached for my hand again. I jerked it away.
I threw my napkin on the table. “Just take me home. I want to go home.”
“How much longer are you going to run? Every time I hit a cord with you, you run away. Just stop running.”
“I can’t!”
The restaurant grew silent. Servers in the middle of waiting tables stopped and looked our way. Patrons glanced at us out of the corner of their eyes, pretending like they weren’t staring. The thinly veiled glass I’d erected around me to keep me safe was about to shatter. I jumped up and headed for the door. I didn’t care what people thought. I was sobbing by the time I reached his truck. I couldn’t contain myself. He came up behind me like he’d done two nights ago.
“Don’t touch me!” I yelled.
“Look, I’m sorry. Let’s just go back inside. This isn’t what I wanted to happen. I can be so pushy. It comes from a good place, though. I swear to God it does. I just get carried away trying to help. Come back inside with me.”
I felt his hand on my back. “No, go away. Please, just go away.”
He reached around me to pull me close. I shoved him away.
“Leave me alone. I’m a monster. I’ll destroy you.” He didn’t let go, just pulled me closer. I beat against his chests with my fists, sobbing into his freshly washed shirt. “No. No. No.” I wept. I softened in his arms which only made me cry harder. He held me up for support as I came apart. When I was finished, he lifted my head up, moving the hair matted against my cheeks from tears and snot off my cheeks.
“Please, let me help you,” he said. His eyes were soft and pleading.
A dam burst inside me and my story rushed out in a violent explosion. Once the words started coming, they wouldn’t stop. Before I knew what I was doing I was telling him everything—from the very beginning starting with That Night and ending with Phil’s battered face. I told him how I’d had a nervous breakdown and spent months driving around the country before settling in Triton. The silence when I was finished was audible. Somewhere in the conversation we’d move to sit on the black asphalt of the parking lot next to his truck.
“Holy shit,” he said when he final
ly spoke.
I was exhausted. Spent. Drained and depleted of everything inside me.
“Holy shit.”
I smiled, surprised a smile could move across my face, but oddly enough, there was something freeing in telling the truth. The weight I’d been carrying around in my chest was lifted. It was like I’d been wearing a heavy winter coat since That Night with all the pockets stuffed full with rocks. I’d taken each of the rocks out one by one and tossed them in a pile next to us and thrown off the coat. I could feel the wind against my skin again. Now, I was sitting in the parking lot stripped of my clothing, naked. I wanted to cover up, but didn’t want to put the coat of blackness back on.
“You have to stop running,” he said.
I let out a deep breath. “I know.”
It was time to stop. I’d reached the finish line. There was nowhere else to run. No place left to hide. Nothing to do except tell the truth.
“I have to turn myself in.”
“You’ve got to tell them everything. Just like you told me. The cops. David. Everyone. They’ll take pity on you. They have to. You weren’t in your right mind. They’ve got to understand all the emotional distress you were under.”
I looked up at him. “You know I’m going to go to prison, right?”
He took my hand. This time I didn’t pull it away. I coiled my fingers around his. “Yes.”
“What’s it like?” I asked.
“Honestly, it’s awful. I wish I could lie to you and say it wasn’t, but it is. The first few weeks are the worst. It’s so incredibly disorienting, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s terrifying and I’m pretty sure I had panic attacks even though I didn’t know that was what I was having at the time. But, it does get easier. You adjust. You find a way to survive in there. It just takes a long time.” He squeezed my hand. “I promise to write you long letters.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It took us four days to cross the California state line. Joe insisted on driving with me and I didn’t put up a fight because I needed his support. Saying good-bye to Frank had been harder than I thought it’d be. I’d considered making up a story about what I was doing, but decided against it. If I was going to come clean, I wasn’t going to start the new chapter of my life built on more lies.
I pulled him aside after my Sunday shift had ended. “I have something to tell you.”
His eyes filled with concern. “What is it, dear? You look terrible. Do you want to sit down?”
I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. I just feel awful for having to do this to you after everything you’ve done for me. I…. I….”
“You’re leaving.”
“How’d you know?”
“You’ve had the look of a wounded bird since I met you. I knew you just needed some time to mend your wings before you took off in the world again. Are you going back to where you came from?”
“Sort of. I did something really awful in my other life and I have to do my best to make it right.”
He stretched out his arms. “Come here, you.” He threw his arms around me, giving me one of his famous bear hugs before releasing me. He fixed his gaze on me. “You’re a good kid–”
“I’m hardly a kid.”
“Nonsense. You’ve got a lot of life left in you to live and you’re good people. I don’t care what kind of mistakes you’ve got in your past. We’ve all made them and everyone deserves a second chance. You take care of what you gotta take care of and don’t you be afraid to come back here.” He pointed to the Little Crane sign above the front door. “You always got a place here if you need it.”
We couldn’t leave before going to an AA meeting. I cried for the entire hour. I’d barely spoken more than a few phrases to each of them, but I felt like they were my family. I’d been so touched by them and they didn’t even know it. They’d never know how their honest shares had given me the courage to tell my own truth. They didn’t know how their stories of redemption had given me hope that there might be a possibility for my own. I’d pay the consequences of my sins just like they’d paid for theirs so I’d no longer have to live in chains.
I cried when I turned my key into Rosie and she gave me a bewildered look, but like always, didn’t ask me any questions. It was silly to be crying over a cabin, but I’d grown to feel safe in its cocoon. I’d cried all the way to Minnesota and now it looked like I was going to cry all the way back to California.
Joe and I stopped frequently without acknowledging why we were doing it, but we both knew I was living on borrowed time. He made excuses to stop as often as he could. He stopped at anything remotely resembling a tourist attraction. We searched for the most ridiculous looking billboards and followed them like maps. One of our first stops was the Dinosaur Park in South Dakota which held thirteen broken and cracked dinosaur sculptures, but we walked through the entire garden pretending to be amazed by each one. In Kansas, we followed the signs to the Geographic Center of the United States which ended up being a small pile of rocks with an American flag waving on top of it. We laughed hysterically when we saw it. He put his hand over his heart and recited the pledge of allegiance just like we’d done in grade school.
We made a detour at every major tourist attraction too. Sedona was breathtaking. I’d heard people rave about it, but I’d never been. I’d never seen so many red rocks reaching to the sky. Even the Grand Canyon in all its vastness didn’t compare to it.
We stayed in small family hotels like Holiday Inn and The Best Western. It was nothing like the roadside motels and truck stops where I’d crashed on my way to Minnesota. I didn’t want to sleep because I didn’t want to waste any of my hours. I spent most of the nights staring at the ceiling imagining what prison would be like. California didn’t have the death penalty but I was sure they were going to lock me up for life. Once I turned myself in, there was no getting out and I wouldn’t be able to post bail while I waited for my trial. I didn’t know anything about the criminal justice system but knew enough to know I was the definition of a flight risk.
I wished there was a way to slow down time. Joe slowed it down as much as he could by driving below the speed limit. We both knew the sooner we got there, the sooner I lost my freedom. We filled the hours on the road with stories from our lives. As we drove I told Joe things I’d never told David. I talked about how devastated I was when my father left and how hard I’d worked as a little girl to be self-sufficient. I shared all of my insecurities about being a mom and how awful I’d been at it. It was easy to talk freely and openly when there wasn’t anything left to hide.
I’d never been open with David like I was with Joe because I’d never wanted David to see me as weak. The relationship between showing emotions and being weak had been ingrained since I was eight years old when I’d sat down in my childhood bedroom and wrote a list of rules to live by. My first rule was to be strong and the second followed the first: don’t let anyone know they hurt you. I thought I could protect myself from getting hurt if I was strong so I’d grown into a person with armor, but the character I’d created to keep myself safe had almost killed me.
Joe recounted his experience in prison. He described his cellmate in great detail and told how they’d grown to become really close. His cellmate was the one who introduced him to AA and he started attending meetings while he was inside. He’d worked his way through all the twelve steps while he was there, including making amends to Maria’s parents by writing them a letter. Her mom had written him back expressing her forgiveness toward him. He kept the letter framed by his bedside to remind him of the pain he was capable of inflicting on others when he drank. He was so moved by emotion as he told the story that we had to pull the truck over on the roadside until he regained his composure.
The conversation stilled as we made our way further south toward Los Angeles. We both knew what would happen when we got there and we’d run out of words to say. The only thing left for me to do was face the consequences for my actions.
All sorts o
f scenarios ran through my mind. Would I see David in court? Would Robin be there? Would I have a lawyer? How would I get one? I couldn’t afford a lawyer and didn’t expect David to help me out. What about my mom? Would she rush to my aid or would she leave me behind bars like she’d done to Rachel? Would she practice the same tough love approach she’d done with her? And what about Rori? What had he told her about my absence? What did she know?
I refused to acknowledge Rori might not be alive despite the fact that she may not have gotten the treatment she needed and passed away. The idea was too horrific to contemplate. If there was a God like they spoke of in AA, I prayed he’d saved her life. She was a victim and didn’t deserve to die for my mistakes. Wherever she was, I hoped she was happy and well-adjusted. If she’d lived David would’ve given her the best care. Robin would’ve made sure of it. She loved Rori like her own and would’ve helped David no matter how angry she was at me.
The landmarks grew familiar as the lanes widened and the freeways multiplied. We were coasting down roads I’d spent hours on during rush hour traffic and it was disorienting to be back. Everything looked the same, but it was all different. It was as if I’d been in a foreign country and gotten used to their customs and now the city surrounding me no longer felt like my home.
Time was in slow motion as we drove down Santa Monica Boulevard toward the Hollywood police department, but the desire to run was gone. Somewhere during our trip, I’d realized I’d been running for a lot longer than That Night. I’d been running most of my life and it was time to stop. I was dripping with sweat by the time we found a parking spot and my clothes were soaked, my t-shirt sticking to me even though the air conditioning was on in the truck. My legs felt weak. I wasn’t sure I could get out of the car.
Joe stepped out and opened my door for me. He helped me down with his hand and wrapped his arm around me, steadying me for support. I was dizzy and lightheaded since I hadn’t been able to eat anything since the day before. Joe had joked about me having my last supper, but I couldn’t manage more than a few bites. My stomach felt like it would revolt against anything I put in it.
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