by Raen Smith
“Did you just compare yourself to a crossword puzzle?” Piper asks in awe.
L laughs, “I guess I did. I would be one mean Sudoku box.”
“That is a seriously bizarre comparison,” I say. “I like it.”
“I provide a human quality to it all. I laugh and cry with them, sing songs with them, and eat with them. You name anything you do on a ride, well just about anything anyway, and I do it with my clients. There’s no kissing or sex or anything like that. I will, however, on occasion, hold hands. But it has to feel right, you know? I manage a client list of about a hundred people. When one client completes a route, another one picks me up. The coordination of it all is miraculous and tedious, but it’s worth it. And ninety-eight of my clients are as clean as whistles. Cowboy Jack will be removed from the list immediately, along with the guy that recommended him. I have a closed client list that is based only on the highest recommendations.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Piper asks. “Here I thought we saved a woman down on her luck. I was thinking maybe you were working the lots in order to go to school or to feed the eleven kids you have at home. Or maybe to help pay for your mom’s hospital bills after her nasty fall and contraction of a staph infection. Full-time companion was not on my radar.”
“Me neither. I didn’t even know the occupation existed,” I add.
“It’s the twenty-first century,” she says. “And with it brings a limitless amount of options. I do quite well in my business. Cowboy Jack’s been my first hiccup, so to speak.”
“That’s some hiccup,” I say. “Battery and attempted murder.”
“Cowboy Jack wasn’t going to murder us,” L says with a small laugh. “He had a few too many to drink and then tried to get a little frisky with me, but rules are rules. I have a code that must be tolerated and followed at all times. After all, I am a professional.”
“I totally agree, L. Rules are important, and in fact, we do have only one rule in this truck. And that rule is that there are no lies,” I say.
“That’s a good rule to have,” L says. “I’ve always thought that honesty is the best policy.”
“You hear that, Piper?” I ask. “Honesty is the best policy.”
“I’ve been nothing but honest for the last twelve hours,” Piper defends.
“Good, let’s keep it that way,” I say. “I’ve got my eye on you, Sullivan.”
“Can you believe I put up with this, L?” Piper sighs and slumps back into the seat. “So, what got you into this line of work? Most people grow up thinking they’ll become a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher or something like that. Most people don’t grow up thinking that they’ll become a companion for a living. That’s your title, right? Companion? Did you make up that title?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” she laughs. “I do have a business card if you want to see it. I’ve got a small clip stuck in my bra …”
“No, that’s all right, but I was wondering how you were going to get your things back from that guy,” Piper says.
“Everything I need is in that clip- money, ID, business card. Plus, I always keep my phone on me. That’s all I need. I’ve got a small bag of things, but everything in that bag is replaceable.”
“So, you’re on the go 24/7 as a companion?”
“You got it. Companionship came to me about three years ago when I least expected it to,” she begins. “That’s how these types of things work. The universe brings you these … these events that you have to deal with. She rips something from your hands and then you have to pick up the pieces.”
I moan. “Oh God, here comes more universe stuff. L, are you telling me that you believe in all that crap?” I ask.
“What was ripped out of your hands?” Piper ignores my question.
“My son,” she says with a crack in her voice. She clears her throat before she continues, “I had a son. He died three years ago when he was just a baby.”
“I’m so sorry,” Piper whispers.
“L, I didn’t mean to –” I stammer.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, honey. The universe is a bitch. It was a few days before his first birthday. I still wonder how something so inconsequential could tear him away from me. He was learning to walk, his legs wobbly and unsure, when he slipped on a toy and hit his head on the ground. And that was it. He never got back up.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Piper says. “That’s heart-breaking.”
“It is,” L says. “My world stopped that day but no one else’s did. Everyone went on with their lives, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t be in that house anymore. I couldn’t be in that town. I couldn’t look at the same things every day knowing I was living without him. One day I left and never looked back.”
“You’ve been on the road since then?” I ask.
“Every single day, and every single day I get to see something new,” L replies.
“What about your family? Your friends? Your son’s father?” Piper asks. “They must miss you something fierce.”
“Maybe they miss me, but I’ll never know.”
We’re silent now, L’s words lingering between us. I’m thinking about the woman taped on my dashboard, and I imagine Piper’s thinking about her mom. And I speculate what Big Dave would say about the significance of two motherless children saving a childless mother.
I imagine him back at home now, and wonder what it was like when my mother was torn from him. It was another fateful day like L’s, the world going about its business like it does every day. Except for Big Dave, his world stopped. Did he ever feel like running away from it all like L did? What pain is worse, for a mother to lose a child or for a child to lose a mother?
I go back to the theory that I’ve always had – that sometimes it’s easier to lose something you never knew you had. I suddenly feel a deep loss for L.
“I’m never going back,” she whispers. Her voice is almost inaudible above the rumble of the engine. I look in my rear view mirror to see her head against the pillow and her legs curled up on the bed. Her red shoes are sparkling in the dark.
“You should go back,” Piper says emphatically, but L doesn’t reply.
“Let her rest,” I whisper to Piper with my eyes still on the road. She doesn’t say anything so I look over and see that her arms are wrapped tight around her legs, hugging them in a ball. She presses her head against the window and makes a small sound that I can’t make out.
That’s when I see a tear roll down the side of her face, glistening in the moonlight like a trickle of glass.
***
“We should let her sleep,” Piper whispers as I shut off the engine. We’re outside of Nashville at a truck stop that’s crammed like a fresh pack of cigarettes. I maneuvered Cash Money near the back of the stop, and we’re conveniently flanked by another eighteen-wheeler and a row of sweeping oak trees. The hour drive should take the edge off Cowboy Jack and, if he was drunk like L said, he shouldn’t find us any time soon. Most likely he passed out in the cab of his truck and if we’re lucky, he’ll wake up tomorrow morning with no recollection of Cash Money and Piper’s pink shoes, except for the black eye and sore balls.
I nod my head in agreement and move back to pull down the extra bed above L. The platform lowers easily, and I hoist myself up. Piper pauses, looking at L for a few seconds before she pulls a blanket over her.
“You sure this can hold us?” Piper whispers. I nod my head again and hold out my hand to swing her up. She climbs on and snuggles next to me without a word. We’re both silent, breathing face-to-face in the dark of the cab. She tucks her elbow underneath her head as I snag the extra blanket near my feet. I spread it over us, letting it brush lightly against her arm, and settle back on the bed to face her. I tuck my elbow under my own head.
“No pillows up here, sorry,” I whisper.
“Somehow you managed to get me into bed on our first date, which included mystery meat sandwiches, a swig of cheap, migraine-inducing wine, the opening credits of a TV show, and a d
runken cowboy firing bullets at us.”
“Worst date in the history of all dates,” I whisper. “I’m glad you consider this a bed. I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you?”
“Well, we’re pretty much stuck together for the next four days so I don’t think you have any other choice. You have to make it up to me.”
“Good, there’s nowhere to go but up.” Our bodies are just inches away beneath the blanket. I can feel the warmth of her, but the space between us seems agonizingly impossible.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“What was your mom’s name?”
“Darlene.”
“Mine was Luella.”
Silence.
“The picture on the dash, is that her?” she whispers.
I nod.
“She was beautiful,” she says. “I can see you in her. You have the same eyes and the same contagious smile that makes all your worries melt away. I bet she was amazing.”
“I know she was. What was your mom like? Does your dad ever talk about her?”
“Not as much as he should. I think it hurts too much for him, you know, that he wasn’t able to save her and all. He knew going in that the odds of her overcoming the cancer were very slim, but I guess you always hope. Even as a medical professional, I guess you hope that the diagnosis is wrong or that the science is wrong. That she is the one exception to the rules of cancer and that she somehow is the outlier that everyone hopes they will be.”
“If she looked anything like you than she must have been gorgeous.”
“She was young and beautiful before she met my dad. There are only a few pictures that I still have with her long blonde hair and bright face full of life. Otherwise, the pictures are a progression of disease. It’s optimistic at first. Her hair is gone, but she still has a smile on her face. Then her face begins to sag and her eyes hollow out with exhaustion. But she still has a smile on her face. Then the fullness escapes from her face and the sheen of her eyes dull. But she still has a smile on her face. She always was smiling. My dad said she never complained, even when her cancer came back. He was blindsided, but she said she always knew the remission was temporary. I think that’s why she had me the first chance she got. She knew she wouldn’t have a second chance.” Piper exhales. “So, here I am.”
“Well, I’m glad she did,” I whisper, my hand trembling as I pull it from the blanket and reach up to touch her hair. I let my fingers run through it, feeling the silkiness against my fingertips. Her eyelashes flutter shut as I continue to brush her hair.
“Do you think L could have a second chance?” she whispers with her eyes still shut. “I can’t imagine losing a child. It’s one thing when you don’t know what you’re missing, but when you do….”
“It hurts,” I whisper. “I missed you Piper, but I always knew you were still out there somewhere. I knew you weren’t lost because I never felt the moment of fully losing you. I knew you were just misplaced. If I didn’t have that hope…”
Her eyes flicker open and her lips part slightly as she tilts her head closer to mine to whisper, “I’m here now, Cash. You found me.”
“Can I?”
She nods her head slowly as I cradle the back of her head and move my head closer to hers until our lips are almost grazing. I brush my lips onto hers and it’s sweet and warm and soft and makes me melt. I feel her this time like I haven’t before. I feel her pain, I feel her fear and most of all, I feel her heart that is full of hope and dreams. I feel Piper Sullivan.
I pull her body closer until she presses against mine. She finds my face and strokes a finger along my jaw before finding my earlobe. My lips press into her again as she moves her fingers down to the back of my neck. It sends me reeling and my body responds to her touch in a way I never experienced before. I never want this to end. I never want Piper to stop kissing me. She caresses the back of my neck as our breath becomes heavier and heavier. I sink into each touch and graze of skin. She tugs the bottom of my lip gently at first and then pulls with a longing that sends my body in overdrive. My hand drops to her neck as I feel her supple skin beneath the tips of my fingers. It’s smooth and warm, absolute perfection.
She lets out the softest moan from deep in her throat until her lips stop moving. She moves her lips away enough to whisper, “Don’t ever lose me again.”
She looks at me with those emerald eyes that I can’t imagine ever living without and shimmies down until her head is near my chest. I rest on my back and let her waves fall over my chest. She fits into me effortlessly, her body curled up against mine.
“I won’t,” I whisper before I kiss the top of her head lightly and tuck the blanket tight against her shoulder. I wrap my arm around her. “I promise you that, Piper Sullivan.”
Chapter 10
My eyes flash open to a quiet thud that gently rocks the wall against my head. Bright streams of sun pour through the windshield, illuminating the blonde waves still lying on my chest.
In Hudson’s words, Praise Jesus Almighty.
Piper stirs and releases a big sigh into my chest. I feel the warmth of her breath through my shirt. She presses her fingers into my chest before rolling away from me and peering down on the ledge of the platform.
“She’s gone,” she groans before her head pops back up. “Do you think she’ll come back?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I bet I could catch her,” she replies, swinging her legs over the platform. I lightly grab her shoulder, holding her back.
“Something tells me that she doesn’t want to be caught. She’s probably on to her next ride already,” I say. “She’ll just keep going and going. She doesn’t have a destination or a delivery point. It’s an endless ride for L, and I don’t think she’ll stop anytime soon.”
“But there are people back home who miss her,” she says with her back to me. “I don’t want L to be missed her entire life.”
“I know, Piper, but there’s nothing we can do about it. She’s gone.” I feel her shoulder slip from beneath my hand. She hops down and clumsily maneuvers between the seats. She fumbles for the door before finally pressing it open, disappearing down the steps.
“Dammit, not again,” I mutter and kick the blanket off near my feet. I climb down and huddle between the seats. The fifty square feet of Cash Money is starting to cramp my style. I follow her through the open door and onto the slab of asphalt. She’s already half-way down the trailer, and I’m reminded of last night, except this scene is flush with the morning Tennessee sun and the makings of a warm, humid day. She stops at the end of the trailer, her head whipping back and forth before she puts her hands on her hips.
Piper turns back toward me, “She’s gone. How can she –”
“She’ll be fine. She’s been doing it for three years. Nothing’s going to stop her,” I say.
“It’s just –”
“I know, Piper. Trust me, I know.” I wrap my arms around her, pulling her in and God, does it feel good.
“So now what?” she asks. “I have the breath of a dragon, whacked out hair like Beetlejuice, and a neck of a ninety-year-old.”
“God, that’s sexy,” I laugh. “I’ve always wanted to sleep with an elderly Michael Keaton, except I envisioned him wearing his Batman costume.”
“You’ve got a thing for the Caped Crusader, too?” She laughs and pushes me away. “But seriously, what’s the deal here? What happens next? Do I get to shower and everything? We definitely need to get some ice for your hand.”
“No, you don’t get to shower for five days.”
“That’s disgusting.” She crinkles up her nose.
“Of course, we shower. There’ll be a shower in the truck stop. It won’t exactly be a Hilton or anything. I definitely encourage you to wear flip-flops if you brought some and touch the least amount of surfaces possible. They should have some flip-flops to buy if you didn’t bring any. I kind of have this awesome system I developed…”
“I definitely don’t need a system to shower. Turn water on, shampoo, condition, soap. I’ll be done in five minutes. What else could you possibly need to do?” she asks. “Wait, don’t answer that.”
“Maybe we could hit the showers together so I could show you?” I raise my eyebrows and feel my lips curling up. I can’t help it, but I’m falling all over her again. I can only imagine her sweet, soft breasts that are not too big, not too little. Her flat stomach and cute little button navel. And…
“Don’t be so eager, Cash Rowland,” she scoffs as she walks past me.
“Hey, we already slept together.” I raise my hands in the air, watching her tight back side move away from me. “What else is left?”
“More than you could possibly imagine,” she calls behind her shoulder. The words send a shiver through every single cell of my body. This girl is driving me wild. “And stop watching my ass.”
***
Fresh from a lonely shower, I’m standing in the truck stop with a bag of ice on my hand. I snap a picture of my swollen hand and send it to Hudson with the caption ‘Bad-Ass Achieved. Punched a Cowboy.’ Less than a minute later he texts back ‘No way.’ I know he’s never going to believe the story about last night, so I skip the ridiculous texting conversation for now and survey our options for a late breakfast. Somehow, it’s well past ten, and despite the fact that we made it much farther than I anticipated the first day, the delivery to Miami awaits. I’m scanning the stock of bananas and apples when I feel a light blow on my ear that sends shivers through my body.
I smell the light, peachy aroma and suddenly, all I want to eat is a peach. A soft, succulent peach that melts in my mouth…
“How was your shower?” Piper asks coyly as I spin around.
“Cold. Really cold,” I say with raised eyebrows.
“Too bad, mine was hot. Real hot. Super steamy, if you know what I mean,” she says, leaning in closer to me before she laughs.
“Why are you torturing me?” I groan before turning back to the apples. By the way, she’s wearing tiny little jean shorts if you are wondering. They’re frayed on the bottom, with white strings dangling against her thighs. They’re tight and hug her in all the right places. She’s wearing a light pink and white striped sweater, too, that pulls tight across her chest and then loosens on the bottom. It’s a perfect pink, not too soft, not too hard, and the fabric is thin. There’s just a sheer layer between Piper’s supple skin and my hands. The stripes are small, maybe half an inch thick. And her hair has just the tiniest bit of moisture to it, making her blonde waves darker than usual. Every detail is so painstakingly seductive.