Miracle on I-40

by Curtiss Ann Matlock

  It struck him that while he had not known particulars such as about a husband or children, he did know the woman. He didn’t know what to make of that thought.

  He blinked and the memories vanished. He found himself staring at the belt buckle. Almost like it was a snake that might bite him, he tossed the belt aside on the bed and got up to find a cigarette. He had wanted one since supper but had determined to give them up. He figured six hours was long enough for a respectable start on no-smoking.

  He had no sooner lit up than his gaze fell to a small sign on the wall: Non-smoking room. Alarm will sound.

  Instinctively he looked upward and saw the smoke alarm, as well as the sprinklers. He sprinted to the window and threw it up and fanned the cold fresh air to help it inside, while he waited to see if an alarm would go off. After a few seconds, he relaxed and finished his smoke by puffing the smoke out into the cold, black night.

  When he finished, he shut the window, and went to take a shower and get ready for bed.

  * * * *

  The next morning, up before dawn to start locating someone to get his rig back on the road, Cooper changed out the buckles on his belt again, returning to the old one. He reached into the trash can and got the box for the brass one Lacey had given him, put the buckle back into it, and tucked the box deep down into his duffle bag.

  Ties that Bind

  The next day the sun came out in a clear blue sky. The storm was gone as gone could be. Had it not for the snow and ice—snow drifted in some places to five feet, it was reported and shown on television—it would have been as if the storm had never occurred. The day was even warming so much that the snow began to melt on the pavement and dribble off roofs.

  Lacey kept reminding the kids that it was Christmas day, but they had had enough of Christmas, having had all their excitement the previous evening. The day ahead definitely seemed anti-climactic, if not a total bore of having to travel more. Anna kept wondering dejectedly about her puppy, and Jon could not seem to be still.

  For Lacey’s part, she kept thinking about the snow globe gift from Cooper and having some expectations. The first of these had been a little squashed, when her only contact that morning had been with Cooper in two rather quick and terse telephone conversations, in which he informed her that he was off to have the truck hauled back onto the road, and then to tell her he had succeeded and that there was absolutely no damage to it or the payload.

  Their phone conversations were not at all satisfactory. They definitely did better when face to face, she thought, remembering his eyes on hers, and his lips, too.

  Now, coming out of the lodge and blinking in the brightness, feeling the snow globe inside the tote bag thump against her side as she walked toward Cooper’s truck sitting down the hill from the lodge, Lacey’s expectations began to rise again.

  He stood there beside it, waiting. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, his expression unchanging as the children ran up to him.

  “We got sixty miles of single lane on the interstate,” he said, handing Anna up into the cab after Jon. “But after that should be smooth sailin’. We should be to your folks’ place by mid-afternoon.”

  “Oh...good.”

  He reached out for Lacey’s tote bag, and she handed it over to him. He threw it up into the cab, said, “We’d better get to it,” and started around the truck.

  In a flash she was really mad. She had given him a gift, and he had given her a gift, not to mention he had kissed her and held her. He had given her plenty of reason to have expectation.

  “Cooper.” With careful control, she gently closed the passenger door.

  “Yeah?” At least his eyebrow rose up over his glasses.

  Yeah? She said, “I want to thank you for the snow globe. I love it...it’s beautiful.” That was all she could think to say.

  “Uh, you’re welcome. Thanks for the buckle, too. It’s really nice.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They stood there for a few seconds gazing at each other. She thought for a moment that he was going to say something more. But then he gave a sort of nod, and turned to head around the truck.

  Lacey got up into the passenger seat and slammed the door, just as Cooper was slipping into the driver seat.

  She was madder than a wet hen and embarrassed about it. Digging into her tote bag, she located her sunglasses and jammed them on her face.

  * * * *

  As the truck brought them ever closer to their destination, two things dominated her mind: greeting her father and saying goodbye to Cooper.

  After the way she had acted, she felt really silly, and that made her act even stiffer. She was not a child. She knew about a lot of single men, especially truckers. They had women everywhere. It had only been one kiss—and even if it had been a really fiery kiss to her, maybe he kissed women like that all the time. The trip and then the storm had thrown them together in a fantasy world of close proximity. Giving her a gift was probably just getting caught up in the spirit of the holiday. Even if he had been having some sort of feelings for her, he had obviously changed his mind, which was his right, after all.

  She felt so stupid as to almost cry, so she had to keep her face turned toward the passenger window.

  The trip went perversely smoothly. For the first hour, confined to the one lane, driving was slowed, but when they hit the full two lanes, Cooper got up to full speed. He had to stop three extra times for Anna to go to the bathroom, and they spent a lot of time serenaded by Christmas tunes on the radio and pacifying the two voices that kept asking, “Are we there yet?”

  Lacey’s nerves became tighter and tighter, so that when Cooper pulled the Kenworth off the highway exit for Pine Grove and asked which way, she fairly snapped at him.

  “Just drop us over at that restaurant. I’ll call my sister to come get us.”

  “Which way, Lacey?” he said in an exasperated tone.

  “I’ll call my sister.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  He stared at her, and she stared back. Two faces of dark glasses staring down each other.

  “Left,” she said. “Five miles.”

  “Are we alll-most there, Ma-ma?” Anna said.

  A lot had changed in Pine Grove in eleven years. Where she and Beth had once cut Christmas trees, a shopping mall had blossomed. Huffner’s Country Market was now a Super Save, and Fowler’s TV Repair had become Fowler’s Video Rental. Seeing this caused Lacey’s spirit to sink even further, although this was actually an improvement, because she was distracted from her hurt over Cooper’s lack of attentions.

  Soon, however, the Kenworth was rumbling its way slowly down the wide street of the graceful old neighborhood where Lacey had grown up. It appeared little changed. The trees were taller, the bushes thicker, but all fit her memory, she saw with relief. Although, the big truck was definitely out of place, and Lacey worried about Cooper getting a ticket.

  “Is this it?” Jon asked excitedly.

  “Which one?” Anna said, craning her neck.

  “There…” Lacey pointed, and Cooper came to a rolling stop at the curb in front of her parents’ large sloping yard. While the sameness of it all was heartily reassuring, and a little strange, too. Quite suddenly she felt nineteen again, as if all the years since were wiped away.

  She stared at the house, feeling as if she couldn’t move, even when she saw the front door opening. Then people stepping out onto the porch. Her parents…yes, it was them. Oh, her mother’s hair was white. Her father. Why, he was bent.

  When Cooper said, “I’ll go up and speak to them,” she could do nothing but gape at him in astonishment.

  Ignoring Lacey’s expression, Cooper got out of the truck, paused and gave his hair a quick swipe. He felt foolish. It was none of his business. But he didn’t want the kids going up there and being rejected by their grandpa right in front of their faces. The memory of his own hurt caused him to stride toward the large brick house with firm, long steps.

  He
came to a stop, look up at the porch and took quick inventory of the people staring at him—a stern, no-nonsense type of man with silver hair and deep creases on either side of his turned-down mouth, the woman stylish and petite and standing one step behind the man. A movement behind the curtains of the window indicated onlookers inside.

  Cooper returned his gaze to the silver-haired man. “I’ve brought Lacey and your grandchildren for a visit.” He watched the man’s eyes grow small. “Will you welcome them?”

  “Who are you?” the man asked after a long, silent moment.

  “Just a friend,” Cooper replied.

  Another long pause in which the man’s taut expression seemed to crumble. His eyes turned moist when he said, “Please ask my daughter and her children to come in.”

  “Yes, sir, I will.”

  Lacey saw Cooper turn walk forward in brisk steps. Her father, too, came forward and looked toward the truck.

  She opened the door. The both dreaded and hope-for moment had arrived, and she suddenly felt she couldn’t cope with either. She about fell out of the cab, and then Cooper was there, offering his steadying hand and reaching to help Anna.

  Then joy burst within Lacey, when her mother came hurrying down the walk with open arms.

  “Mama!”

  “My baby!”

  The scent of Yardley’s Lavender and the softness of silk in her mother’s hug. Her mother slipped away to Anna and Jon, and Lacey was left gazing up the path at her father, still waiting on the porch. She walked slowly toward him.

  The same man, yet changed. The sternness was there, but softened with the frailty of age.

  “Daddy...” She reached for Jon and Anna, taking refuge with them. “These are my children.”

  She couldn’t remember ever seeing her father cry, but now a tear slipped down his cheek. Lacey blinked, her vision growing almost too blurry to see. When her father opened his arms, she rushed to embrace him, feeling his rough face against hers, his coarse silver hair.

  “Oh, Daddy, I’ve missed you.” And then she cried into his white dress shirt. Still, the starched white dress shirts.

  “Welcome home,” her father said gruffly. He squeezed her tight, then, self-consciously averting his gaze, he pulled away and turned to the children, pure pleasure lighting his face. “So, these are my grandchildren…”

  Bedlam broke out, with Beth and her husband and children pouring from the house, everyone hugging and talking excitedly.

  Suddenly Lacey remembered Cooper. Fearing he might have already slipped away, she looked around and saw him there, captured by her mother.

  Emily Sawyer was never one to forget the propriety of inviting a guest for refreshment. Cooper was trapped, because the older woman had him firmly by the arm.

  * * * *

  Talking with Leon Sawyer, Cooper drank a third cup of coffee and finished off a second piece of pumpkin pie. He knew he had to get gone. The way Lacey kept looking at him—had been looking at him throughout the day—had him churned up inside, like a wildcat caught in a net.

  He felt overwhelmed by the rest of the crowd, too. He had rarely been surrounded by a family like this, so many people, so much talking, and lots of questions about him— what he did and where he lived and about family. That was a big one.

  “Who are your people, Mr. Cooper?” Emily Sawyer asked in her cultured tone. She was what Cooper thought of as a real lady.

  But he didn’t understand the question and just stared at her.

  “She means your family,” Lacey interpreted. “Cooper’s from Tennessee, Mama, but he was an only child, and his family is all gone.”

  “Oh.” Emily Sawyer looked like she found this quite strange.

  And Cooper felt a little strange, with the way everyone kept giving him those secretive looks.

  Everyone except Leon, who looked at him as if he was trying to guess his coat size. Once Leon asked him how long he had known Lacey. Cooper could tell his answer didn’t set to well with the man, who held strong views and was trying to hold them on his tongue.

  Cooper saw the attachment between Lacey and her father, but he saw the personality clash, as well. Too stubborn people with opposite outlooks.

  “Surely you’ll stay for dinner,” Emily Sawyer said. “We have plenty of leftovers from the big meal at noon today.”

  “No, thank you, ma’am. I have to get this haul up to Washington.” He rose, looking around for his coat.

  “But it’s Christmas Day. Surely you can celebrate Christmas Day.”

  “Oh, I’ve had a good celebration,” he said, catching a glimpse of Lacey’s eyes on him. All of them were looking at him. “And I couldn’t eat another bite on top of this good pie.” He didn’t want to appear rude.

  Jon and Anna came with Lacey, walking Cooper out to his truck. Jon shook Cooper’s hand, and then Anna lifted her arms for a hug.

  Cooper was really struck by this. He bent down to her level, and her small arms went around his neck, as she said solemnly, “Good-bye, Cooper.”

  He couldn’t say anything. He just gave her a squeeze.

  Lacey then hurried the children back to the house. “Give me a minute alone with Cooper, you two.” She watched them go up to the house, not at all certain of facing Cooper.

  Finally she folded her arms close and slowly turned to him, seeing the colorful lights on the houses up and down the street, and the sky overhead was clear, crisp pale blue of evening.

  “The clear sky means really cold tonight. It’ll be clear for your drive to D.C., though.”

  “Yeah, should be an easy drive.”

  “I am very grateful for the ride out. I’m sorry for all the inconvenience.” She searched his dark eyes for any encouraging sign that she might say something of the feelings pushing up into her throat.

  “You didn’t cause the snow,” he said, reaching up and opening the cab door and tossing in his hat, as if eager to be on his way.

  “I know you could have come ahead of that storm, had it not be for me and the children.”

  “We made it okay.”

  They gazed at each other for an awkward moment. Lacey was trying to get what she needed to say to her tongue, when he asked, “You want me to stop and get you next week for the ride back?”

  “Do you want us to ride back with you?” Hope sprang ahead of all the other feelings.

  But he gave a shrug, which was not a response she was seeking, and he said, “It’s no problem for me. I’ll just take a few local loads up around D.C. to fill the time. I’ll be heading to Albuquerque anyway.”

  “I asked if you wanted us to come.”

  He stared at her, then shifted his stance. “Look...you’re askin’ me for somethin’ I can’t give, Lacey. I don’t have it in me to give.”

  His words just broke her heart and made her furious at the same time. She couldn’t accept it. She felt that if she could only make him understand.

  “You can’t know that at this point,” she said. “We don’t know anything at this point, except there darn sure is something between us. I know I have feelin’s for you. I’m not fool enough to say that I love you. I can’t know that yet, but I do know that I think I’m halfway in love with you, and that’s really something.”

  His gaze had shifted to her shoulder, yet still she said, “Maybe it’s more what I can give you, Cooper. But you can’t know, if you don’t give it a chance.”

  Cooper shook his head, his eyes bleak. “Lacey, I’m just a burned-out old driver. You and me…we’re like water and diesel fuel. We aren’t gonna mix. You don’t see things like they are, only like you want them to be. I’m not anything at all like what you think you’re seein’. And life just doesn’t turn out like that.”

  “Like what, Cooper? You don’t think I can really love you? How can you know at this point?”

  “Sometimes, Lacey, love won’t change the facts. It didn’t with your dad when he got angry and threw you out, did it.”

  “It did when I came back.”


  “And there was a world of hurt in between.”

  Lacey shoved her fists into her coat pockets. He was determined to reject the idea of them having anything, and she was a fool to try to change his mind.

  “Well, thanks so much for bringin’ us,” she said, stepping backward. “And for goin’ up to check out Daddy for me.” She wouldn’t cry. She would die first. “We’ll be fine. And we’ll ride back on the bus.”

  Something flashed across his face, pain maybe, and Lacey felt a slice of triumph, and confusion.

  “I’ll see you back at Gerald’s then,” he said.

  “Yes. See you then.”

  She did not stand there and watch the truck leave. But from inside the house, she heard the sound of the engine as it faded.

  * * * *

  Late that night, when everyone was asleep, Lacey slipped down to the kitchen for a cup of warm milk. As she pulled the mug from the microwave, she heard her father’s shuffling footsteps.

  “Can’t you sleep?” he asked, entering the kitchen.

  She smiled. “No more than you.”

  Her father gazed at her a minute, scratching his head, then reached into the refrigerator for the milk carton.

  “I’ll make it, Daddy. Sit down You’re not supposed to stand on that leg.” At his look, she said, “Beth told me about the problem with your veins.”

  “Please don’t plague me like the others—nag me like they do, or pander to me, either.” He sat at the table.

  “I didn’t, Daddy. I came home to make up and to have my father again. And it was big of me, too.” She was rewarded by his slow smile.