One for the Road

by Lynne Marshall

  He read on. Tyler White may be making his country music comeback in Las Vegas opening for Tanya Lockwood Friday night, but his real dream is to perform in the Middle East for our servicemen.

  “Dee-Anne?” His voice boomed off the RV walls. His head ached from too much whisky and his neck was stiff from crashing on the captain’s seat because Dee had shut him out of her room. Ricky-Bob and Bear never made it home. He could have slept on the pull out bed, but had been too drunk to notice.

  The new, but not necessarily improved, version of Dee stepped out of the shower and peeked through the door opening with a towel wrapped around her chest.

  He shoved the paper in front of her nose. “You had to go and make up some silly story about my patriotic song, didn’t you?”

  Clasping a hand over her mouth, her deep green eyes opened wide when she read the print. She stifled a giggle. “Oh, Tyler, I’m sorry.” She blinked and fought back a laugh, which aggravated him even more. “I just tried to grab the interviewer’s attention, that’s all.”

  “Well you sure as hell did!” He ripped the paper back and proceeded to read the rest of the story to her aloud. By the end of the piece, the article had stolen his thunder when he realized how complimentary the kid had been. Jerome had even come back to hear the group at the restaurant that night. Tucson especially liked Star Spangled Heart. Apparently, Jerome did too. Too bad D’Anne hadn’t stuck around to hear it.

  “Are you still mad?”

  “Hell yeah!” His glance stopped at the front of the towel. He reached out and gave one quick tug. The towel hit the floor and he had Dee in front of him just the way he wanted. He’d teach her a lesson about embarrassing him. Dang. He looked at the delicate groove at the top of her collarbone and followed the slope of each breast with a lustful stare. He covered the space between her navel and the top of her thighs in a nanosecond.

  Tyler stepped forward, deciding to get territorial, and cupped her soft brown curls. She didn’t flinch.

  “You’ve got some makin’ up to do, woman.”

  She looked him in the eyes—defiant, proud, and sassy. Now that was the lady he knew. She challenged him with an unwavering stare. It only turned him on more. Yeah, they remembered each other, no need for re-introductions. D’Anne with the new hairdo and fancy brows refused to look away. He liked that.

  Tyler stepped closer, moved his hand deeper in an intimate caress and kept staring her down. A tiny sound escaped her mouth and she caught her breath. That’s right, Slick, I’ve got big plans for you, right here, right now.

  And damn if she didn’t feel ready for him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Papago, hand-painted, ceramic jar would work perfectly for Reese’s ashes. It was compact and the lid fit snugly. The glazed colors were of the earth and decorated the smooth clay in basic, eye-catching, Native American patterns. Reese would have liked it.

  D’Anne reached into her purse for some money at the cramped reservation store. The unassuming, leather-faced, ancient cashier waited to be paid against a backdrop of thick, hand-woven wool blankets, adorned and feathered Kachina dolls, and turquoise jewelry.

  While she rummaged around for her wallet, she thought about her encounter with Tyler earlier that morning. He called it pay back sex for the newspaper article and seemed cold and aloof in bed. She knew she’d met his physical need, but nothing more. As if they were almost strangers again, she’d felt cautious and distant while they made love and never really let go. D’Anne knew he’d felt it when she’d shut down and finally gave up. She regretted it now.

  A thick musty, moldy smell in the store made her nose run and drove her outside. Hot air hit her in a puff when she stepped from the old wooden building into fierce, unforgiving daylight.

  After dealing with Reese’s new urn, an urgent need to connect with her family had her reaching for the cell phone the moment she stepped out of the store.

  With the phone hugging her ear, she listened while it rang. “Dean? Hey. When are you due in Vegas?”

  “Mom, I’m glad you called. I’ve managed to get off work a little early today. I’ll leave straight from there.”

  D’Anne had booked a room for herself in the downtown hotel where Tyler and the band were scheduled to play. Sharing a room with Tyler wouldn’t look right or go over well with her sons. She planned to checkin once she and the band arrived that night, no matter how late it was. Who knew if she and Tyler would ever be alone together again? Who knew…anything?

  “Great, so you got a room at the same place? I can’t wait to see you guys,” she said, feeling optimistic for the first time that day.

  “It’s probably…only going to be me.”

  Her stomach gripped. “What do you mean? Randy isn’t coming? But I thought we had it all planned. We were going to have a little ceremony together in the desert and scatter some of your father’s ashes, just the three of us.” Her heart sank deep in her chest and made it hard to breathe when Dean didn’t answer right away.

  “Mom, Randy’s in another one of his ‘I hate everything’ moods and doesn’t want to see you.”

  “Why?”

  Dean took a deep breath. “He said he’s ashamed you’re traveling around with a bunch of musicians. And I know he’s really torn up about Dad. I think he blames you for that, too. That’s the best I can figure, since he won’t talk about anything.”

  D’Anne’s eyes stung, a gush of tears formed and spilled down her cheeks. A knife through the heart couldn’t have hurt more. He blames me.

  “I haven’t given up on him yet. I’ll try to talk him into driving with me tonight, okay?”

  D’Anne could hardly speak. “Okay,” she whispered from a bone-dry throat.

  “I love you, Mom. See you tonight.”

  D’Anne took his love and counted it as a blessing. “I love you, too.” A surge of the spirit of her old self pushed her on. “And tell Randy I love him and I expect to see his butt in Vegas.”

  After she hung up, she sat on the bumper of the Rabbit in the hot sun drying her tears and baking her skin for several minutes. She held Reese’s future home in her arms, wondered where hers would be, and never felt more alone in her life.

  ****

  Tyler worked to secure the equipment on the roof of the RV with Ricky-Bob’s help. Bear stood below on steaming black asphalt, red bandana tied around his head, hands on wide hips, shouting up orders.

  “It looks lopsided,” he said. “Tighten the rope on the other side.”

  Tammy’s old Mustang rolled into the parking lot behind the café at breakneck speed and skidded to a stop. J.T. bolted out the passenger door, slammed it and stomped toward the RV.

  “God damn, sonofabitch!” He swung the RV door open and let it flap closed, sending a vibration up to Tyler’s feet.

  “What t’hell do you suppose that’s about?” Bear asked, squinting into the sun toward Tyler.

  The road-worn Mustang hung a U-turn and peeled rubber out the driveway, leaving black smoke and toxic fumes in its wake. Bear started for the door.

  “Leave him alone,” Tyler said.

  When he started to climb down the ladder, he noticed the Rabbit in the distance. The car passed through a dream of rippling heat waves. His heart gave a jumpstart beat at the sight. He worked to suppress the emotions floating around in his head like oil and water. Anger, love, desire, fear, trust…what the hell was Dee doing to him?

  Tyler dismounted the last rung from the back of the rig, pulled a ball cap from his jeans pocket, and put it on for moral support. He adjusted the rim low over his eyes and tight on his skull. The courage he tried to muster lagged sadly behind.

  D’Anne drove up to the RV hitch like a pro and got out of the car in shorts and a sleeveless top, looking more like springtime than fall. She smiled and held the clay jar up for his inspection. He studied it, nodded his approval, then bent to connect and secure the car to the RV.

  “Ready to go, Slick?” He did his best to sound casual, stood and wi
ped his dusty hands on his holey jeans.

  “I am now.”

  “I better warn you. J.T.’s in a foul mood.”

  D’Anne turned. Her chic short hair and long neck struck a chord in his heart. Where was the cowboy hat? She looked over the top of her sunglasses and made a knowing look with clear, grassy-green eyes. “Oh,” she mouthed, “Tammy?”

  Tyler fought a genuine pang of regret and related to J.T.’s condition of being dumped. He tried to hide his loss with a nod and a friendly wink.

  ****

  After saying goodbye to Jilly and getting paid at the Café, Tyler, D’Anne and the guys prepared for travel. The eight hour-plus desert drive would be long, hot and tedious. J.T. pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes and lay on the couch with arms across his chest like a wooden cigar store statue. He refused to say a single word about Tammy’s departure. Bear drifted off to sleep on the adjacent sofa and kept everyone entertained with fits of musical snoring accentuated with snorts and sputters.

  Ricky-Bob sat at the dinette and picked Tyler’s pretty new tune on his mandolin until even Tyler thought he’d get sick of it. But more so, the bittersweet melody made him focus on the lady to his left. Serious, intent on watching the road, and very much in charge of her direction, Dee drove on toward their goal.

  Tyler insisted on taking over at the wheel somewhere near the halfway point in Lake Havasu City. They stayed long enough to grab fast food and gawk at the quirky London Bridge transported to the middle of nowhere.

  Back in the RV, none of them seemed in the mood to talk, not even Bear. It was too damn hot. Only Ricky-Bob looked excited about arriving at the gambling capital of the U.S.

  At one point, Tyler overheard J.T. say to Dee, “Tammy got it into her fool head to go to Court Reporting School and says she can’t waste one more day chasing me around the country.” He swiped his face with a nervous hand, eyes confused and blinking. “That is, unless I’m serious about taking our relationship to the next level. What the hell is the next level? Staying all night? Grocery shopping together? Shit.” He flung himself back on the cushions and re-crossed his arms.

  “She’s a good woman, J.T.,” Dee said. “I hope you’ll look her up the next time you’re in Dallas.”

  Speaking of good women, what the hell would he do about Dee?

  Tyler knew his future career was on the line with this performance and it had been the focal point of his life for the last six months. But the importance seemed to wane while the miles clicked off on the odometer toward the gig and Dee got closer to home. While he drove, the state of his private life nagged at every thought, overshadowing his music career comeback.

  “Pauline booked four rooms for us,” Tyler said, breaking the icy silence a half hour outside of town.

  “You’re welcome to stay in mine.” He cleared his throat.

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’ve booked my own room.” D’Anne casually glanced at him and looked away.

  Tyler felt dismissed. And angry.

  “The reason I offered is because they don’t allow pets, so I’ll be staying with Dexter in the RV…that is if it’s okay with you.”

  Dee studied the dog with affection in her eyes. He wished she’d look at him like that again…wished she’d stay with him in the motor home, too.

  “Whatever,” she said, making her lack of commitment obvious and torturing his soul a bit more.

  Flashing neon signs lit up the horizon when they approached Las Vegas. Friday night traffic, both on foot and in cars, caused them to slow to a snail’s pace. A long snaking trail of white headlights on the left and red brake lights in front of him warned Tyler their last mile would seem endless. Impatiently, he edged forward. Unlike the glitzy strip, here tall, brightly lit, older but flashy casinos lined the downtown section of Vegas, once called the Boulevard of Dreams. It occurred to him his own dreams had changed.

  Before they arrived at the hotel, D’Anne pointed out the billboard with Tanya Lockwood and Tyler’s names on it.

  Bear whistled through his teeth. “Ain’t that sweet.”

  Even J.T. perked up.

  Any other time he’d have been proud, even thrilled about being up in lights, but not tonight. Instead, his mind drifted to more immediate concerns, like losing Dee.

  “Well boys, it looks like this is the end of the line. The Palmer train is pulling into the station,” she said.

  Like a gentleman, Bear reached for her hand. “And thank you for a lovely ride, Dee.”

  Ricky-Bob hugged her. “Thanks. We’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  Tyler didn’t know what to say. How could he tell her how he felt and what he thought with everyone around? Dee was slipping through his fingers and he didn’t know how to stop it.

  ****

  At eleven-fifteen they parked in the RV section of the older downtown hotel. Tyler, feeling spent from the trek and ready to crash, accompanied Dee inside to register. Beneath a full moon, surrounded by balmy air, neither of them uttered a word.

  In a daze, he heard her ask if Dean Palmer had checked in when she registered for her own room.

  “Yes ma’am,” the wiry Middle Eastern man behind the desk said. “They asked to book a room next to yours.” He gave Dee a key.

  Tyler saw a noticeable boost in Dee’s somber mood. Her eyes lit up and she beamed the smile he loved and hadn’t seen in the last two days. “Randy must be here!”

  The night clerk handed Tyler a manila envelope from Pauline when he checked in. He shook out its contents: four room cards and a legal-sized envelope. He stuck the letter in his front shirt pocket, walked to the RV, and passed the card-keys out to the band.

  Unloading the RV, everyone took luggage and a guitar case or two. J.T. moved the drums from the Rabbit to inside the cabin and placed them beside the upright bass to keep the instruments safe and out of sight.

  Bear broke the silence. “Dee, it’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance.” He kissed her hand like a regular Kentucky gentleman. She threw her arms around his neck for a peck on his cheek. He blushed brighter than she did.

  “Yeah, hey Dee, thanks for everything,” Ricky-Bob chimed in. They hugged, too.

  “How will you guys get your instruments home?” “I’ve got it all covered,” Tyler said. “Don’t worry, Slick.”

  The inside of the RV felt cramped and oppressive with everything piled up. Tyler sensed Dee couldn’t wait to get away. He grabbed her arm before she could flee.

  “Will I see you tomorrow night?” He bore into her eyes and saw a disengaged look.

  “Definitely,” she said, with a hint of the smile he’d already begun to miss. “I’m bringing guests, too. You promised free passes right?”

  Tyler loosened his grip and nodded. He felt solemn and sad but kept it to himself. “I’ll have the desk clerk put them in your mailbox.”

  D’Anne nodded back.

  “How about tomorrow? Lunch?” He fought the insecure urge, but asked anyway, just like the fool he was.

  “Sure,” she said, distracted with her overnight bag. “I’ll meet you in the lobby. Twelve okay?”

  Tyler agreed, gave her arm a gentle squeeze, grazed her lips with his mouth, not a real kiss, and let her get away, Dalmatian backpack and all.

  ****

  Approaching her floor, D’Anne felt nervous and keyed up. She slid the card through the slot in the door and entered the standard hotel room. King-sized bed, dresser with television on top, locked, overpriced honor bar, table with extra chair. Though she’d requested a non-smoking room, the hint of stale smoke lingered in the curtains. Her eyes scanned to the closet and bathroom. She dropped her luggage when she heard a knock at the door.

  Excitement beat in her chest. She swung the door open and found both Dean and Randy on the other side. She squealed with joy and reached for a group hug. Dean squeezed and kissed her back. Randy, looking thinner than she remembered, gave a lackluster attempt at a greeting.

  “Come in!” She stepped back so they cou
ld enter. “Let me look at you guys. I swear it seems like years.” She hadn’t seen them since May, and studied them with a mother’s adoration.

  Both young men were slim and of medium height. Randy looked like a vulnerable version of his father, glasses and all. No hair dye or black painted nails were in evidence. Maybe he’d finally joined the world of adults at the ripe old age of twenty-two. Dean seemed more robust and ready to take on life, but then he’d always been the more fearless of the two. At twenty-four he was already set in a good paying job at a brokerage firm with lots of room for advancement. She’d never had to worry much about her eldest.

  For a brief second, her world felt right again. The shock of Reese’s sudden departure and the surreal weeks that followed seemed to disappear. It all felt like a dream and her boys helped ground her to reality. Finally she was where she belonged, with her family.

  “Where’s Dad?” Randy asked.

  The question jolted D’Anne. She had placed the ceramic jar in the Dalmatian backpack. “Randy, you do understand your father left a note.” She unzipped the fake fur and removed it, handing the container to her youngest son. “Even the insurance company called it a suicide.” Tears brimmed in Randy’s eyes when he reached for Reese’s remains, and a barrier broke down between them. “It wasn’t my fault,” she said.

  She kept her hands on top of Randy’s to help steady the trembling while he held the jar. He hugged it to his chest and let his grief show without inhibition. D’Anne encircled her son with loving arms and let him be. He wept, displaying emotions she hadn’t recalled seeing since he was a boy. She held tight, savored the sound of his cleansing cries, and loved him with her entire soul.

  Dean came up behind and placed a warm arm on her shoulder. She opened her embrace and invited him in. The three stood in their reverent circle of love with Reese at the center for several more healing minutes.

  ****

  The hotel lobby felt oppressive, jammed with people and attacked by noise from row after row of slot machines. Tyler waited impatiently for Dee. By twelve-fifteen, he was ready to give up and take off. He wanted to tell Dee in person he had a costume fitting appointment with rehearsal after that and couldn’t keep their date for lunch. He regretted not being able to spend time with her and hoped to arrange for a quiet drink together at the hotel bar later.