by Sarah Buhl
My mother never said hurtful things to me, but she had no backbone when it came to him. Her lack of defense for her children was a slap in the face just as strong as my father's hand. They fought with each other as well. She tried to hide their fighting from my sister and me. But we heard every word of it. They argued, and I hated every minute of it. They didn’t use to fight. We were happy for most of my life until I was six, then things changed and I didn’t understand what happened. I still don’t. Maybe they just grew apart, just as Lily and I had.
As children my sister and I made stories of how things were going to be when Momma and Daddy stopped fighting. We said we could take a trip somewhere without pigs and cows and bees. Trips always made life better. Our trips were the result of our imaginations but she and I always had adventures to go on in the flower field.
Despite dreading the visit, the desperation in my mom’s voice told me I needed to come. She was always a broken woman that robbed me of my strength. She showed me what I wanted to be because it was the opposite of her. I didn’t want to be submissive and unsure of myself.
When I stepped into my apartment after preparing myself for telling Maggie, laughter from the living room greeted me. I recognized Gabe’s laugh and was happy to know he was there to ease the news to Maggie. She always worried for me when it came to my family and I knew she wasn’t going to be okay with me visiting them. She heard the stories from me and though we were cousins, she wasn’t always around to experience it. She experienced my father’s moments on occasion and I knew she was going to be a mess knowing I was going to be going back there.
I entered the living room with a very fake smile on my face and raised eyebrows. I tilted my head to the side and the falseness of it ridiculed me. Maggie stopped laughing and scowled at me. “What Hannah?” she said as she rose to stand in front of me. She knew when I made this face I was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear.
“I have to go home for a couple days,” I said as I twisted my lips and wrinkled my nose.
“Oh for god sakes, why?” she asked and raised her arms in the air before turning back toward the couch.
“I’m not sure. My mom was being vague on the phone but Wynn is taking me,” I said with a genuine smile. She turned back to me and smiled as she tilted her head.
“You mean Blake’s friend Wynn?” she asked as she stepped closer to me. “The one that dropped you off at my work then took you to an amazing gallery that you fell in love with and then never called or texted for three weeks and ended up here this morning.” She tilted her head to the side and rested her hands along her hips. "That Wynn?” Even though she was much smaller than me, she always tried to make me nervous. Sometimes it worked.
“Yep, that’s the one. But he had his reasons, don’t be hard on him.”
“Oh, I’d enjoy being hard on him,” Gabe said with a laugh. I leaned around Maggie and winked at him with a wave hello. “I’m just teasing. It’s my duty to make the over the top, gay stereotype comments at times just to keep you on your toes. Not to mention to lighten the mood. Ease off her, Maggie,” he said. Yeah, I was thankful he was here for this.
Maggie held either side of my face to bring my attention back to her. “Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?”
I nodded and pulled her hands away with a gentle squeeze. “Yes, I’m sure. I'm looking forward to a road trip with Wynn,” I said with a shy smile.
“Well, that’s a change of pace. But okay then, keep me posted on what this important business is that’s making you rush back there,” she said and her concern was obvious as she kept her eyes locked to mine.
“Yes, keep us posted on the important business,” Gabe said from the couch and Maggie rolled her eyes. “That important business with our friend Wynn in particular, please.” He laughed and Maggie returned to sit with him.
“What are you guys doing anyway?” I asked as I grabbed a backpack and emptied its contents to make space for my clothes.
“We’re just discussing Toby and this handsome devil that is now working at the agency. Oh and we spoke of our dear friend Blake and how hot he is,” Gabe said as I shook my head and tried to push the thoughts out of my mind of what could have happened with Blake last night. There was no way I was telling them.
“Sounds like a pleasant conversation,” I mocked, which resulted in a blanket thrown at me. There was a knock at the door and I looked back at them with raised eyebrows. “Best behavior,” I said as I pointed my finger at them. I hoped my expression drove the point across, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath.
I ran to the door and opened it with a smile. Wynn was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and tilted his head at me. “Was I too fast?” he asked as his smile broadened.
“No, I’m done,” I said as I ran into my room to roll up tee shirts, jeans and a simple skirt. I chose clothes that didn’t take up much space. Wynn followed me into my room and gave me a smile as he brought his bag from behind his back.
“I can just put your stuff in my bag if that’s everything you're taking,” he offered.
“Yep, that's it,” I said as I waved my hand across the bed showing my items. He started organizing items in our bag. I watched as he packed mine in his own particular way. I turned to leave my bedroom and had to laugh at the mess I left in my wake.
“Now I don’t have to continue emptying out my bag,” I said, looking at the mess I left on the floor in the living room, I turned to Maggie, “Can you take care of that for me?” I asked with a grin.
She gave me a mock annoyed look. “I suppose I can, even though I emptied most of our boxes.” Wynn must have come up behind me because her eyes drifted past my shoulders.
“Hello again Wynn,” she said with pursed lips. “You better take care of her on this trip of yours.” She pointed at him and then her demeanor changed as she thought of something. “How did she like your biscuits and gravy?” Gabe snickered from the couch and I knew he imagined a hidden innuendo with the mention of biscuits and gravy.
“Maggie,” Wynn said with a nod to say hello. “She loved them.” He looked back at me with a smile. “Really enjoyed them…immensely,” he said as he smirked at Gabe.
This brought a laugh from Gabe and a scowl from Maggie.
Gabe sat forward to gain our attention before speaking. “Don’t mind the Magster, Wynnie. She feels it her duty to micromanage everything,” he said with a laugh. Maggie turned around, shooting daggers at him, before giving him a one fingered salute.
I laughed and so did Gabe because what he said was true. She was a mother hen.
Maggie looked back at Wynn. “I am serious though Wynn, take care of her. Her family can be assholes,” she said as she crossed her arms.
“So I’ve heard,” he said putting his hands in his pockets. “Do you have any pointers for me?”
Maggie showed surprise at his question. “Um, punch her dad in the throat for me would you?”
He laughed at that. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Okay, we have to go if we want to make it to our hotel soon,” I said and started heading to the door.
“Hotel?” All three asked at the same time. But I was positive each asked for different reasons based on their tones. Gabe had a naughty tone. Maggie’s held shock. And well Wynn’s held a slight edge of fear to it.
“Uh, yeah, there is no way I’m staying with my parents.” I looked at Wynn and touched his face. “Are you ready?”
He smiled at me and pulled my hand toward his mouth and kissed my palm. “Yep.” His eyes focused on me and on reflex my shoulders jumped as the chill climbed up my arms from his kiss.
“Awe, that’s as sugary sweet as a bowl of candy on Halloween.” Gabe said. He was in prime form tonight. I winked at him over Maggie's shoulder as I hugged both of them before leaving.
“I’m serious,” Maggie said, “keep me posted.”
“As always,” I said and turned toward Wynn taking his hand to lead him ou
t the door.
“Sorry about that,” I said as he zipped up his backpack and gifted me with one of his gorgeous smiles.
“No need to apologize.” He helped me get the backpack on and handed me my helmet. “I’m glad you have friends like that. Gabe seems crazy by the way.”
I laughed as I tried to fasten the helmet. “Yeah, but he’s the good kind of crazy though.”
He smiled, watching me fiddle with the strap and as I accomplished the task of fastening it, he stepped closer to me. He ran his hands down my arms until his long slender fingers wrapped around my wrists. He gave them a slight squeeze then his smile turned mischievous.
“We have an hour drive to get to your town—tops, right?” he asked as he lowered his chin and looked over his sunglasses.
“Yeah, but the hotel is before that. It's twenty minutes from my hometown—why?” I asked because I saw by the grin on his face he was up to something.
“Will we have time to make a stop before we go to your parents in the morning?” he asked with a huge grin. It was cute on him and a reflection of the little boy he once was before his life became tainted by the horrors his mother inflicted. The peace of the smile suited him as it drove away the usual sorrow filling his eyes.
“Of course we do. I didn’t give my mom a set time. I was thinking maybe tomorrow afternoon we could head over there. They will have farm work to do in the morning any way.”
He tilted his smile and kissed my nose. “Perfect.”
I lifted my eyebrows at him. “What was that for?” I asked as we both climbed onto his bike.
“I can’t help it. You look hot.” He laughed as he turned his head to the side and looked back at me. A quiet, demure smile took the place of the coy one he wore as he revved the engine. He was hiding in humor yet again. I pulled myself closer to him, wrapping my arms around his slender waist. He was wearing his usual worn in jeans and hoodie over his flannel shirt. When I leaned into him his hair passed over my face as I kissed his ear. He laughed at me as we started to pull away.
Though we were heading toward a place that choked me with dark memories, I tried to embrace the freedom I shared with Wynn. At first, I thought it was the freedom of being on the open road and leaving the city for open terrain, but it was more from being near him. Guilt was the instinctual emotion that came as I thought of how much I enjoyed the closeness developing with him, but there was another part of me long hidden, that told that guilty part to go fuck itself.
I rested my head against his shoulder as I watched the buildings grow shorter the farther toward the edge of the city we got. My chest was heavy as we crossed the river. Lily always loved to fish and every time I passed a body of water I thought of her and her easy smile. When we were little we were always there for each other, but things changed for us the older we grew and her smile didn’t come as easily.
A memory came to mind of her and me hiding in our spot. I was six and her eight. It was early in the morning and we still wore our nightgowns and the dew covered grass glued to our ankles. As the sun was rising we ran to our spot and climbed the cherry tree to hide. We sat on a branch and she held me close. “It’s okay Hannah. Daddy can’t reach us here,” she said as she held me and we listened to his bellowing yell in the distance. Both our hair was light blonde then, and it hung close together as she held my hand tight. The color was a perfect match, and it was hard to find where her hair stopped and mine started.
Thinking back on that memory I began to cling to Wynn in desperation without realizing it. He took his right hand and squeezed my forearm I wrapped around him as the memory played out in my mind. “Stay here, Hannah,” she had said as she kissed my cheek and lowered herself to the grass. I saw the neighbor come and ask her something, but at this point they were too far away from me to hear Lily, but I heard my father. His yell came from near our house and he hadn’t seen Lily leave. “What the hell are you girls doing? I told you we had to get ready for church. Get your asses back here now,” he yelled as I sat on the branch and my lip trembled as I hid my face in my arm. I didn’t see Lily anymore. She left me.
I was drowning in memories of times long ago when she and I were close. We were inseparable, but something happened to draw us apart. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of a specific reason. I think time just pulled us apart. One decision or diverging of our path and we traveled in opposite directions. One day turns to a week, then a month, and years and then without realizing it, our lives changed and we were now two different people, taking our own paths.
A few miles after the river we reached open terrain, and I released my left hand from around Wynn’s waist and let it fly to the side as I tilted my head back to the sky. The setting sun warmed my face as the wind blew through my hair. The contrasting temperatures filled me with an intense heartbeat that might explode out of my chest from joy. I couldn’t hear Wynn laugh because of the wind, but I felt the low thrum of it through my arm. After a short time with him, I became accustomed to it. Just as it can take days to pull away from someone, it can take just days to draw you to someone. We were wrapping ourselves into each other and it thrilled me as much as it scared the crap out of me.
I let go with my other hand and put both arms out and embraced the wind across my face as I tightened my thighs around him. I closed my eyes and balanced myself. I breathed the clean air and remembered the wonderful scents the country provided. This air was one thing I missed from the countryside. There was always a fresh wholesomeness that invades the senses. Wynn traced my thigh and doing so brought my attention back to the road and I pulled myself into him once again. “I love this,” I said in a hushed voice. Then I watched as the sun turned to bright purple and orange as it began to lower itself across the field.
Around ten we finally made it to our hotel. We should have made it there sooner, but we decided to stop at several gas stations for photos. I think Wynn knew I wanted to avoid my thoughts, so he created a game for us in stopping at every gas station or rest stop to take a photo of our trip.
The first place we stopped, I asked him to take a photo of me and without a thought he grabbed his camera and we walked around, investigating the old station. The photos were eerie when I looked at them on his camera. Though it was dark out, he used the ambient light from the gas station that gave the image reality. The first one he took of me made my breath hitch. My eyes were looking to the right of the frame as I sat on a parking block in front of an old ice box. I don’t know how he did it, but I read my feelings and thoughts in that photo. The fear and sadness weighed on my shoulders, but my eyes looked different than when I looked in the mirror. Though they didn't look at the camera, the joy in them was obvious.
He managed to capture different sides of me in each photo as we progressed. The more places we stopped at, the more amazing the photos got. He was cataloging every expression of mine in photos. He said he wanted to have a book of “Hannah’s Expressions” because they were never ending and they were proof that I could never win at poker.
At the last gas station I smiled up at him and took the camera from him. “Can I take one of you?”
He smiled and handed over his most prized possession. He stepped toward the side of the station and leaned his right shoulder against the wall. Crossing his arms he looked toward me. He had taken his hoodie off and rolled his flannel’s sleeves to the elbow, exposing his tattoos across his forearms.
I lifted the camera to my eye, and I enjoyed being able to examine him through the viewfinder, unhindered. I was thankful he had the camera set for me because I lacked the knowledge to change the ISO or aperture to the right setting. I snapped one photo and looked at the screen. It was good, but I wanted to get lower, so I sat on my knees to take a few more photos. His eyes tracked my every movement and never looked away from the camera. After several photos I looked at the screen and smiled. He held lightness in his eyes and determination on his face. Heat traced my neck and into my cheeks as I couldn't take my eyes from that photo. I had my back t
o him and didn’t know he left the wall and approached me.
He stood behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder to see the image as well. He leaned in to press his nose into my hair. His hands wrapped around my upper arms as the intensity from him transferred to me. I closed my eyes as I leaned back into him. “You're amazing, Wynn,” I whispered.
He gave a quiet laugh behind me. “Hardly.” He took the camera from me and looked closer at the photo, but kept one arm wrapped around my chest, holding the opposite shoulder. “Anything amazing in this photo is all you, Hannah. If anyone else were taking that photo, it would have looked different,” he said and then he kissed the back of my head and said nothing more of it as he released my shoulder.
Our motel room was interesting. The motel itself looked right from the 1950s. The room left untouched, still contained turquoise and brown decor from that time. There was a kitchenette with a bright orange counter top in one corner. I breathed in and felt years of cigarette smoke and cleaning products invade my lungs.
“This place is fantastic,” I said as I lay back on the bed and watched Wynn walk around the room. He set the bag on the dresser and ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back. He looked over at me and smiled.
“I like the open layout.” He gave me a crooked smile as he pulled his camera from his bag. He came over to me on the bed and lifted the camera up to change settings on it. He snapped a photo of me lying on the bed and smiled when he looked at the image. “I like the color of the blanket too. It enhances your coloring beautifully,” he said as he handed the camera to me.
I looked at the image. My hair cascaded around me and the color of my hair against the turquoise blanket was hypnotizing. The color did bring out the darker shades of blue in my eyes, making them look as if they glowed. It wasn't only the color. I had a light smile on my face and my eyes looked brighter because of it. I wasn't focusing on the photo of me he was taking, but my eyes drew only to him. He brought the light from me.