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The Road To Glory

Page 4

by Advocate


  No matter what anybody says, the most delicious thing at Rosie’s is

  not the hamburgers. Take care, Judith. I had a wonderful time. Thank you.

  — Leigh

  Judith chuckled and tucked the note into the drawer of her nightstand. If she tried, she could almost hear the hum of Leigh’s truck in the distance.

  CHAPTER III

  "I’M NOT. I’M NOT!" Leigh tapped the steering wheel in an uneven, listless pattern. "I’m not getting sleepy." She shook her head from side to side and tried to focus on the road. She’d been driving through thunderstorms for hundreds of miles, and the rain had finally given way to one of the densest night fogs the trucker had ever seen. She’d encountered numerous wrecks along the way and knew better than to park her truck along the roadside — even with her fog lights on. Besides, she had miles to make up. Thirty miles per hour is no way to drive ‘cross country, she thought glumly. It was the middle of the night, and Leigh was miserable.

  She blinked rapidly, but the motion still didn’t clear her vision completely. God, even I have my limit. "Need a place to stop." Sleepy blue eyes scanned the roadside. She was halfway between nowhere and the boonies. And yet …

  "I think … yeah." Leigh nodded a little. "It can’t be too far away." It wouldn’t be on her map, she knew. She’d checked after driving away a few weeks ago. Apparently, Glory, South Dakota, was too small to warrant even a tiny dot. Leigh passed through this area every week on her route and had considered pulling off the Interstate and finding Fitz’s diner just about every time she drove by. But the road construction was over, and the detour was gone. And she realized that even if she wanted to find it, she really didn’t know exactly where Fitz’s was. Other than it was twenty miles from Glory. Wherever that was.

  Leigh sighed. There was more to it than that, and she knew it. Her last, albeit brief conversation with RJ had made her hesitant to return. They hadn’t exactly argued, but still, it was awkward. Why, oh why, did she have to drive such a piece of shit? Leigh didn’t even know what kind of car Judith drove. Had never even thought of it. Ignorance, she decided, truly was bliss.

  Taking a chance Leigh pulled off on the very next county road and headed north. She had to slow to no more than ten miles per hour when even her truck’s powerful low beams weren’t cutting through the dense curtain of hazy moisture. Another hour passed, and when she was certain she was good and lost Leigh pulled onto a wide dirt road and drove only about fifty feet. She eased her truck to the side, killing her engine and lights. Leigh half-expected to see the blinking ‘ritz’s’ sign in the distance. But she didn’t.

  Unbuckling the seat belt, she popped open her door and dropped down onto the wet ground. The air felt heavy against her skin and fine mist instantly enveloped her, dampening her hair and clothes. She pulled in a deep breath of fresh, moist air. "I’m totally lost," she moaned, her eyes scanning her surroundings. She saw nothing but mud, prairie grass and fog. Leigh rubbed her temples and debated relieving herself outside. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see her in this weather and at this time of night. But then she remembered the ticks that had attached themselves to her ass while she was squatting a few years ago. Scowling, Leigh unconsciously rubbed her butt. Their removal was even more humiliating than their discovery. No, morning would be soon enough.

  It was so dark she didn’t bother to close the curtains in the small living space of her cab. Instead, she stripped down to her panties and crawled into bed, pulling up the soft sheet. Her eyes fluttered shut and she exhaled slowly. Her body relaxed immediately, and she tumbled into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  The male squirrel wearily sat up and cracked open his beady black eyes. "Where am I?" He looked around the back of what appeared to be a moving truck. Moving? "I’ve been kidnapped!" he wailed piteously. "Stolen from Potter Park. Torn from the breast of my community in the prime of my life!" The rodent tried to bury his head in his arms as he sobbed. But sadly, his stubby appendages were too short. Damn God and her sick sense of humor!

  "You have not been kidnapped, fool," his long-time mate hissed. "You went on an all-night bender and passed out drunk!" The larger squirrel kicked at the half-crushed beer can that the male was leaning against.

  He only groaned, looking at the can. It was white with black letters that proclaimed, ‘Beer’. Generic beer? When he pushed off the can it rolled over and the back was revealed. ‘Suitable for human consumption.’ Oh, the misery! How low had he stooped?

  The sound of a honking horn caused the female to reach up to cover her ears but, like her mate, she couldn’t reach them without ducking her head awkwardly. She repeated her husband’s virulent curse, not knowing the chain of events their simple words would set in motion.

  * * *

  RJ blew on the embers, igniting the tinder so the flames would grow and consume the larger sticks. Once she was satisfied the fire was doing all right without her, she stood and picked up her beer from the table. Taking a drink from the long neck bottle, she watched the fire grow. I’m a firebug. It’s a good thing those stories my mother told me about playing with matches weren’t true.

  Flea stood up from her spot in the very center of the picnic table and gave a good cat stretch, her arms outstretched in front of her, purring all the while. Then she proceeded to dig her nails into the table; it was the perfect scratching post.

  "Ruth Jean Fitzgerald! What is it you that you think you’re doin’?"

  "Mother?" RJ whirled around, quickly putting the bottle behind her back and spilling most of it down her legs when she did. "Damn," she muttered as she tried to surreptitiously toss the bottle away. Now I look as though I’ve pissed myself. I am twenty-seven years old. It’s not fair!

  Flea smiled and plopped back, content to watch the show. She hated beer anyway, unless, of course, it was root beer.

  Katherine Fitzgerald crossed to the picnic table, placing two large milkglass bowls down. RJ tried to look into the bowls, sure that they would be holding potato salad and coleslaw, both of which her mother made the very best of.

  "Playin’ with matches?" The stout woman waggled her finger at RJ. "You know that causes people to wet the bed."

  "Mo– " RJ swallowed hard at the look on her mother’s face. "Excuse me for interrupting, ma’am."

  Katherine nodded and cleared her throat. "As I was saying … was that a beer you were drinkin’ at this hour of the mornin’?" She leaned over and discreetly sniffed the air, making a face at the odor now wafting from her oldest daughter.

  RJ sighed and nodded; there was no use in denying it. Besides she really did smell like a brewery now that she was wearing most of her drink. "Yes, Mother, it was."

  Katie gave RJ her famous exasperated look. "I don’t know what I’m going to do with you." She threw her hands in the air. "Your short hair, your drinkin’ and smokin,’ and don’t think I haven’t heard you cussin’."

  "Mother …"

  "There’s not a respectable person who’d have a thing to do with a heathen such as yourself."

  RJ sighed again. Normally she only got the lecture on Sundays, but with the town social being today, apparently Mother Fitzgerald felt the need to get it out of her system.

  Flea sniffed and licked her lips, hoping Mrs. Fitzgerald remembered the olives in the potato salad. That was just the way she liked. But either way, Katie was a good mother. She should have been a cat.

  * * *

  One by one just about everyone in town began to arrive at Fitz’s. It was going to be a lovely day. The grass was still a little damp, but the light spring breeze and warm sun had mostly taken care of that. The enormous outdoor grill was going strong and would cook enough food to last the entire day. Picnic tables covered with bright red and white checked cloths dotted the grassy area behind the diner.

  "Hey, you!" a strong male voice boomed from behind RJ. She slowly turned to face a young man about her own age and height. He had a head of bright red hair and his blue eyes were hidden behi
nd a pair of sunglasses, but his smile was familiar. Liam Fitzgerald held up two long necks. "I’ll trade you a beer for a smoke."

  "Yeah, and if Mother is lurking about I’ll get the short end of her temper again, Big Brother. No thanks."

  "Mother is in the diner with Mrs. Amos and some of them old hens. You’re in the clear." He bumped shoulders with RJ. "Has your big brother ever led you astray before?"

  "Do you really want me to answer that, you silly bastard?"

  "Nah," he laughed. "No need." He jiggled sweating bottles, clinking them together. "So how about it?"

  RJ snorted softly at her own lack of willpower and fished her Lucky’s out of her pants pocket. She tapped one from the pack and exchanged it for a beer. Taking a tiny box of matches from her pocket, she flicked her nail against a match tip, causing it to flare to life.

  Liam bent and lit the cigarette, taking a deep drag as soon as he was able. He spit an errant piece of tobacco from the end of his tongue and took a seat on the picnic table, smoke swirling around his head. His bright blue eyes tilted skyward. "It’s a beautiful day. Going to be good for the picnic." He waited a moment before saying, "I hope that Mary comes down today. It’d be a shame to miss her."

  RJ’s arched an eyebrow at her brother. "You be careful there, Liam. If Mother and Father find out you’re trying to get your hooks into one of those O’Rielly girls there’ll be hell to pay." And I would know. She smirked inwardly, thinking of Mary’s older sister. RJ stopped smirking, however, when she remembered the pretty brunette had taken up with the postmaster and they now had six kids.

  "Are you gonna be telling on me, Little Miss ‘I wonder where the cute blonde trucker went to’?"

  RJ choked on her beer and tried to hide the grin. But Liam was right. She hadn’t been able to think about anything since. And even her stash of ‘special reading material’ didn’t touch the ache that had appeared along with Leigh. "No, of course not. I’m just saying be careful, that’s all. I think Mary is a pretty girl." RJ shrugged. "She likes you well enough, I’m thinking."

  "You know this to be fact, do you?" Liam perked up and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was around and listening. "How would you have this information, Ruth Jean? Don’t be holding out on me now." He suddenly sat up a little straighter as if the light bulb in his brain just blinked on. "And just how well do you know Mary O’Rielly? Hmmm?"

  * * *

  Leigh opened her eyes slowly, blinking at the bright sunshine. She swung her feet over the side of the bed and her bladder immediately protested the movement. "Oh, man. Bathroom now."

  The trucker yawned and slid into the front seat with a little more urgency than usual. She automatically reached for her sunglasses and then seatbelt, wiggling a little as the cool strap covered her breast. She looked down and blinked stupidly, realizing she’d strapped herself into her front seat wearing only her panties. Leigh laughed, wondering just how many free truck washes she could score if she rode around like this. She unbuckled her seatbelt and glanced up to find …

  "I’ll be God damned! I drove right by it last night in that fog."

  Not five hundred feet down the road she’d turned off last night sat Fitz’s diner. The ‘F’ on the sign had been repaired. But the lights either weren’t working or not in use during the daylight.

  Fitz’s equals bathroom. Fitz’s equals shower. Fitz’s equals good, hot food. Fitz’s equals buff, butch, beautiful woman chopping wood in skimpy undershirt with no bra on! Leigh’s mind screamed. The young woman scrambled behind the curtain in her cab and tugged on a pair of faded blue jeans and a mint-green polo shirt. She tucked the shirt in and skipped the belt, wiggling her feet into a pair of comfortable, well-worn high top sneakers. Leigh ran her fingers through her hair and grabbed the bag that contained her toiletries, a fresh pair of panties and a bra.

  She was sliding across the front seat to get out when she suddenly stopped and began digging through her bag. When she found the antiperspirant she made quick use of it before tucking it back into the sack. She’d already insulted RJ’s truck; the last thing she needed to do was come walking back into the diner smelling rank.

  Instead of driving to the diner, Leigh jogged the five hundred feet. It was beautiful out and by the high position of the sun she could tell it was early afternoon. She’d slept for nearly ten hours, but felt worlds better for it.

  The small parking lot was full of mostly old beaters, though she spotted a shiny new Taurus and a 1980s model Chevy Caprice near the diner door. As she got closer she could see throngs of people milling in and about the diner. The air smelled like BBQ, and Leigh’s stomach growled appreciatively. It’s a party. I wonder if she’ll be there.

  When Leigh pushed open the diner door, the conversion in the small building ground to a halt. Even the song on the jukebox seemed to end at that very moment. Nearly every set of eyes in the place turned to Leigh and stared.

  Leigh could feel her face growing hot. She looked over to Mavis helplessly. "Am … uh … Am I interrupting something? I mean, are you guys closed? I didn’t–"

  "Oh, don’t be silly. C’mon in. This is a little town party, but we’re still open, see?" Mavis gestured toward a harried-looking family of travelers that brushed by Leigh on their way out the door. With Mavis’ warm smile, Leigh began to relax.

  Then the chubby woman turned around and announced in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "It’s just Leigh."

  A collective ‘ahh …’ rang out and then, as if by magic, the noise in the diner rose back to its usual level as silverware clanked and people laughed and talked as they ate their lunches or drank their coffee. The diner’s patrons all went back to what they were doing before Leigh walked in. All except Katherine Fitzgerald.

  "I don’t mean to be rude, Mavis. But –"

  "You know where it is?"

  Leigh nodded quickly and wove her way through the tables to the bathroom in the back of the diner.

  Katherine sidled up to Mavis, and both women stared at the door Leigh had just passed through. After a few moments Katherine needlessly asked, "So that’s the little thing that’s got the town so abuzz?"

  "She’s the one caught RJ’s eye," Mavis corrected.

  Katherine crossed her arms over her ample bosom. "I don’t like her."

  "Katherine!"

  "Well, I don’t!"

  "You’ve never even spoken to her. She seems like a nice enough girl."

  Katherine chose to ignore Mavis’ affirmation. "Does Ruth Jean know she’s back?"

  Mavis snorted a little. "If she did, don’t you think she’d be sniffing around in here instead of playing with the grill out back?"

  Before Katherine had a chance to answer, RJ strode in from outside. She headed straight for the bathroom to get cleaned up, but before her hand hit the knob, the door opened and Leigh stepped out. She was carrying her backpack slung over her shoulder, and her hair was wet.

  RJ’s eyes widened. "Well …" She swallowed. "Hello."

  Leigh felt a smile tugging at her lips at the sight of the tall woman. She was suddenly very glad she’d had time to brush her teeth and wash her hair in the small sink. "Hi." Her gaze drifted from deep green eyes down to RJ’s leg and she winced. "Looks like you didn’t get here soon enough." Her face scrunched up into a smile; she could smell that it was beer but wasn’t above having a little fun.

  RJ’s shoulders slumped. She just couldn’t seem to catch a break when it came to this woman. "You see, I spilled a beer and I was just going to try to get it off my pants." She grinned. "It’s not what it looks like, really."

  "It never is." Leigh peered down at RJ’s leg again, shaking her head. When she looked back up, she couldn’t help but notice Katherine Fitzgerald was staring at her with a look that could only be described as intense dislike or severe constipation. Leigh was betting on the latter since they were standing in the ladies’ room doorway. "Who in the hell does that woman think she is?" Leigh mumbled, tilting her head toward Katherine. "S
he’s giving me the creeps."

  RJ bit down hard on her cheek to keep from laughing. She leaned over and whispered, "Why that would be my own sainted mother, thank you very much. If you’d like to just get it over with and call me younger sister a whore you will have insulted all the women in me life."

  Leigh closed her eyes. "Oh, my God." First RJ’s truck, now her mother. With her luck, she’d have slept with her sister too, and she’d be one of the several women who had taken a scissors to her already limited wardrobe over the years. God, she hated when they did that. "I am so sorry," she said genuinely. "I always seem to be apologizing around you."

  "It’s all right. Really it is. There are days when she gives me the creeps too." RJ gestured toward the back door. "Let’s make a quick exit out the back."

  Leigh nodded silently. She was more than willing to follow RJ out of the diner and away from the intense gray eyes that belonged to Katherine Fitzgerald.

  Once they stepped out back, RJ clasped her hands together rather nervously. "Can I get you something to drink?"

  Leigh looked at RJ’s pants again and laughed. "No thanks. I think I’ll help myself." She strode past RJ over to where there was a table covered with a washtub full of iced drinks.

  RJ decided to give up beer for the rest of the day. She wanted to keep her wits about her now that Leigh was here. She reached for a pitcher of lemonade and began pouring it into a paper cup. "So what brings you back this way?"

  Leigh dug a Pepsi out of the ice. She looked at the glass bottle for a second. Where the hell did they get these? "Well, I needed to stop last night and I figured I was close to Fitz’s." She shrugged one shoulder, grunting a little as she tried in vain to twist off the soda top. "Frankly, I can’t believe I found the place. But here I am."

  RJ watched her for a moment, then extended her hand for the bottle.

 

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