Confessions of a Carpool Captive

by Dawn L. Chiletz

  The toothbrush I used the last time I was here is next to his in the holder. The fact that he kept it and put it by his makes me smile in wonder. After washing my hands, I crawl back into bed, sliding on top of him and running my fingers over his thighs.

  “Hmm…” he moans lightly.

  “The two times I’ve seen you in the morning, you were hard as a rock. Now I know it’s entirely possible after last night’s extravaganza that you’re tapped out, but in case you’re not…”

  I plant gentle kisses down the center of his back and he rolls over. He doesn’t disappoint. I bite my lip.

  “You tell me. Do you think I’m hard?”

  I kiss his stomach, licking his abs and slowly descend upon him, pursuing his orgasm as if my life depended on it. He grips my hair in his hand and moans. It doesn’t take long.

  I smile my way back up to his face and he’s breathing heavily.

  “I think I need to wake up like this every morning.”

  “That could be arranged,” I reply.

  He flips me on my back and leans his forehead into mine. “So last night was real? I didn’t dream it?” he asks.

  “It was very, very real,” I reply. “I have the sore muscles to prove it.”

  “Too sore for more?” he asks, planting soft, arousing kisses down my face to my neck. I moan in approval. He kisses his way back up to my ears, where he whispers, “You’re amazing.”

  Smiling, I turn to face him. In the light, I see his tattoo again and gently lift my hand to touch it.

  “The Journey?” I ask. “What does that mean?”

  He leans on his elbow. “Do you remember last night when I told you that I understood how you felt?”

  I nod.

  “It’s a long story. Do you want to hear it right now?”

  “Of course I do.”

  He sits up in bed and scrubs his hands over his face, turning back to me and attempting to smile. I see something in his eyes that worries me, so I sit up as well, grasping the covers around my chest.

  “I have a younger brother named Keegan. There’s a five-year age difference between us. Growing up, we were polar opposites in every way. He was a free spirit from birth and I was a constant worrier, plagued with anxiety and pessimism.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you at all,” I respond.

  “It was me, ‘was’ being the key word. When Keegan and I were kids, we were really close. I stressed over every crazy risk he took and picked up the pieces when things went wrong. He’d climb trees and swing like a monkey and I’d stand beneath him, worrying I wouldn’t catch him when he fell. No matter how many broken bones or cuts and bruises he had, it never changed him. He was always smiling, always ready to take the next risk that came along.”

  He turns a bit to face me. “After years of watching him take stupid risks, I gave up. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself. We grew apart. He’d beg me to come with him on some stupid adventure and I’d tell him to fuck off. I’d warn him of the risks and tell him how dumb he was for taking them. I told him he was going to end up dead or crippled. He’d just laugh.”

  He huffs lightly and smiles as if he’s remembering something. “He once told me, ‘What’s the point of living if you spend it worrying about dying?’ I thought he was insane, but I also resented him. My parents allowed him freedoms I didn’t have. I studied hard, worked hard, and did what I was told. Keegan flew by the seat of his pants. Never studied or cared much for rules, yet it seemed to me he was their favorite.”

  I nod my head and intertwine my arm with his. He kisses my forehead as I lean my head on his shoulder.

  “I wasn’t a very good guy to be around. I’ll admit it. Negativity and sarcasm were my defining traits. I had a handful of like-minded friends. But we tolerated each other rather than enjoying each other’s company. I preferred to work alone and be alone. Sound familiar?”

  He nudges me a bit and I lift my head to look in his eyes. I shrug and he smiles.

  “Anyway, fast-forward a few years. I’d graduated from college and took a dead-end job as a runner in a consulting company and Keegan? Keegan played in a band. He sang and played guitar. Barely made any money, lived with my parents, and was happier with scraping by than I was with a regular salary and my own place. He’d call me all the time, asking me to come see him play, but I’d tell him I was too busy.”

  He shakes his head at the thought. “One night after work, my boss asked me to come with them to eat. We went into this dive bar and low and behold, guess who was playing?”

  “Keegan?” I answer.

  “Yep. He was excellent. Passion poured out of his veins when he sang. He had this energy about him that drew people in.”

  I stare up at Finn. It’s how I feel about him.

  “So I watched him. My boss and his buddies complained he was too loud. I listened to them bitch about him for at least twenty minutes before I told them he was my brother. I claimed him. I hadn’t done that in years. You could see on their faces they were embarrassed. They didn’t say another word. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him and I left the group to get a better view. I was proud of him and I needed him to know. After the concert, I forced myself to go see him.”

  Finn shakes his head again at the memory, gazing off in the distance, then turns to face me.

  “I’ll never forget his eyes when he saw me. He lit up. I swallowed my pride and told him I was proud of him and proud to say he was my brother. He held me so tight, I thought my chest would burst. That was the last time I ever saw him.”

  “What?” I ask, taking his hand.

  “He decided to walk home that night. It was unusually warm in upstate New York and the bar was only a few blocks from home. Some drunk decided to get behind the wheel and ended up lost in his neighborhood. He couldn’t see straight and was all over the road. He hit him. He killed him that night.”

  I feel a tear slide down my cheek. I place myself on Finn’s lap and throw my arms around his neck. He holds me close.

  “I’m so sorry. Do you want to stop?” I ask.

  He pulls me back to look at me.

  “No, I want you to understand. His death changed me. I quit my job and took some time to figure out how I felt about my life. I sat in my brother’s room and went through his things. At the bottom of an old tin box under his bed was a letter addressed to me.”

  I gulp down a breath and squeeze my hands together.

  “Basically he told me how he’d always looked up to me and how knowing I was there for him always allowed him the freedom to do anything and everything. Then he wrote, and I’ll never forget it… ‘There are many roads in life and we choose which path is right for us. Just remember, it’s not about how fast you get there. It’s the journey that matters most. Live for the journey.’”

  He points to his tattoo. “He died on March eleventh. I got this tattoo for him. It’s a constant reminder to appreciate every moment for what it is.”

  I place my hand on his face and kiss his lips. He leans his forehead against mine.

  “Everything changed for me after that letter. I stopped hating the world and started opening up to it. I forced myself to go out and take risks. I did things I’d never done before. I rode a motorcycle. I went skydiving. I took cooking classes. I danced when I had the chance to dance. And every time I did something new, I swear I could hear Keegan’s laughter.”

  He slides out from under me and pulls on his boxers. He sits on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. He rises and turns to face me briefly before walking toward the window. I clutch the blanket to my chest. He turns to face me again.

  “The world opened up for me. My positive energy seemed to attract good things. I got my dream job, I bought a flat in the city, and I made more money than I knew what to do with. But everywhere I went, I’d see him. I missed him terribly. I regretted all the years we could have been doing things together. It was too much. So I took another risk and moved to California.”

  I smile nervously. “
And you met me.”

  He sits back on the bed and places his hand behind my head, smiling genuinely. “And I met you. I saw myself in you, Liz. You were dry and sarcastic. You preferred to be alone and didn’t like to talk to people.”

  His eyes search mine. “You and I are cut from the same cloth. I could tell you must have been hurt badly to recoil from everyone the way you had. I could almost hear Keegan telling me to take the risk with you. I knew that if I was patient and kind, I might be able to reach you and show you there was more to life. You became a challenge for me. A project. If I could help you the way Keegan helped me, then I would know I’d done right by him.”

  My eyes widen. “I’m a project?”

  I see the panic in his eyes as I bolt from the bed, wrapping the sheet around my body. My heart constricts as I attempt to put pieces of our strange relationship into place.

  “No, Liz… That’s not what I meant.”

  “So all of this has been a test? You wanted to see if you could bring shy, lonely Liz into the light?” I feel the tears in my eyes.

  He rushes toward me. “God, no! That’s not what I meant. What I meant was that I saw you. You. What’s underneath that protective shell you wear on the outside.”

  “You mean my lizard spikes and scales?”

  He takes a step toward me and I step back, holding up my hand to him.

  “Liz, when I met you, it was like finding the other half of my soul.”

  I shake my head and sit on the edge of the bed, trying to process.

  “Don’t you understand?” He crouches down next to me, just like he did that first day by my cubicle. I can barely look at him. I stare at the floor instead.

  “Liz?” He lifts my chin. “You are my perfect match.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. Taking my reluctant hand in his he says, “Don’t you see the way I look at you? I’m not looking at you with pity or ridicule. It’s love, Lizzy. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you. I love you with everything that I am.”

  I gasp. “What kind of game are you playing with me? I get it. It’s like, ‘What happens when the loner girl thinks I love her? Wow, maybe her shell will just fall off. Once I know I can fix a difficult case like her, then I can move on to bigger and harder test subjects.’” I push up from the bed and begin to gather my things. I don’t want to hear anything else he has to say.

  “Out of everything I just said to you, that’s what you heard?” he asks, lifting to his feet. “Project was a poor choice of words. I’m telling you that I love you, Liz. I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

  I don’t know what clicked inside me, but it doesn’t matter what he says from here on out. My mind is made up. I need to leave him before he leaves me. I can’t take being broken again.

  Within a matter of minutes, I’m almost completely dressed and scrounging for my other shoe. I lift the covers and search under the bed. When I get up, he’s holding it in his hand.

  “Don’t do this. I know you’re scared. I know this is hard for you.”

  I try to yank it from his grip, but he pulls it away.

  “You’re right,” I say. “It was hard for me to trust you. You were a risk and I took it. Look where it got me. The last time I gave my heart to someone, I found out he was married with a kid. I thought that was bad, but at least I knew he had feelings for me, even if it was only about sex. But you… I thought you were different. I pushed you away time and time again, and there you were. I thought that meant something. That maybe you could like the real me, just the way I am.”

  He steps toward me. “I do like you the way you are.”

  “No, you like the me I’ve become under your special guidance. You’re trying to mold me into something I’m not.”

  “You need to stop and think about what you’re saying,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Have I ever tried to change you?” he begins. “No. I love that you talk fast and forget to breathe when you’re nervous. I love that when you get pissed at me, you put your earbuds in because you need time to process. I love that your cheeks blush the most beautiful shade of red I’ve ever seen when you’re embarrassed and that you don’t like to talk because you’d prefer to listen instead.”

  He reaches out and pushes a strand of hair away from my face. “But most of all, I love who I am when I’m with you. Just being near you makes me happier than I’ve ever been. Because from the moment I saw you, it’s like my heart knew.”

  My mind is twisting and turning with all he’s said, but it can’t be real. He must have something to gain out of this. I’m no prize. He said I was a project. I need to remember that.

  “Yeah, your heart knew I could be… what did you call it that first day? Just what you needed? The right research project to fix what you broke?”

  He sighs. “You are what I need, but not the way you think. Stop pushing me away.”

  I grab my shoe from his hands and rush down the stairs.

  “Where are you going? Dammit, Liz. Stop doing this!”

  I pick up my purse and turn the handle on his front door.

  “Have a little faith in me. Think about what I’ve said to you. If you walk out that door, you’re letting fear win.”

  I turn to face him as the tears flow down my cheeks.

  “Don’t you see how good we are together? We fit. Tell me you care about me as much as I care about you. Stay. Make the choice to fight for us.”

  I face the door and he steps next to me, placing his hand on it.

  “I can’t keep doing this dance with you. We make love and I say one wrong word and you’re willing to throw it all away. You’re tearing me apart. Don’t run away again. Let’s work this out. If you leave now, you’re telling me I’m not worth it.”

  My head and heart are pounding two different rhythms. My heart wants to stay and my head keeps repeating project over and over again. I don’t know why I can’t let it go. Every time I’ve ever listened to my heart, I’ve ended up in a heap on the floor. I won’t let him destroy me. I can’t. I listen to the part of me that has never let me down.

  And I leave.

  After I left Finn’s that morning, I took a cab home. I cried the entire way. Gloria drove me to Cliff’s and I got my car. I texted Emerson and told her that I couldn’t do the carpool anymore and to please let Finn know, since I’d blocked him from my phone. The drive to and from work that week was one of the worst in my life. I missed Kel and Emerson constantly arguing over every little thing. I missed turning around and seeing Ernesto’s smile. And most of all, I missed the man I thought I knew. The idea that they were all still together driving to work without me made my heart ache. But maybe I was better off alone, just like I thought.

  The pain of Finn’s words conflicted with the pain in my heart for leaving him. Once I got home, I picked up the phone to call him at least twenty times. I reminded myself who I was and decided to embrace being a lizard. My spikes were the only thing that kept people away. Having friends and then losing them was worse than never having them at all.

  I take the bus to the airport for my flight to Lake Tahoe for training. Even though I could drive myself, I don’t, not wanting to pay for parking.

  The entire flight, I read and write in my notebook. I reread what I’d written about New Year’s Eve and all that happened. How I felt when we made love and how happy I was to be with him. What I felt when he called me a project and how scared I was to leave him. Then I write what I’m feeling now. Loss, pain, and heartache. How much I miss everyone, especially Finn, but how I had to follow my head this time. My gut was telling me he’d hurt me in the end and I couldn’t let that happen.

  I arrive at Lake Tahoe right on schedule and take the hotel shuttle to the resort. I’ve never seen mountains like these before, or even snow for that matter, and the sight takes my breath away. For a moment, I consider texting Emerson to see if she made it in okay, but think better of it. I need to adjust to being on my own again. It really wasn’t that bad. Was it?


  I check into my room and get my itinerary. There are several group sessions we are required to attend and then there are two seminars we can choose from. As I skim the selections, my heart stops. One of the electives is Finn’s. It’s called “How to Market Yourself and Our Company for Success.”

  I knew I might see him here. It was probably the only reason I was excited about coming, whether I want to admit it or not. I do miss him. I miss his crooked smile and his laugh. I miss the positive spin he’d put on everything. How he made me feel wanted just by walking in a room. The way he would stare at me. I swallow hard and lean my head on my hands. What if I was wrong?

  No. I have to remember what he said that day. Deep down inside, regardless of his lies, the truth is he wanted to change me. He didn’t like who I was and he wanted me to be different. He wanted to prove something to himself and his brother. I was nothing more than a scheme.

  Tonight is a meet-and-greet dinner. Tomorrow, Saturday, is a day full of training and meetings followed by an informal dinner and closing. Then I fly home Sunday. Lifting a paper, I check my flight time home. I need to be at the airport by one p.m. for a three p.m. flight. I figure maybe I can sightsee a bit in the morning. After all, I’ve never been here, or really anywhere, before.

  At six p.m., I cringe as I make my way downstairs for the meet and greet. If it were up to me, I might stay in my room and feel sorry for myself, but I can’t. This is work. If I’m going to be a manager, I need to break out of my comfort zone.

  Standing off to the side of the main doors to the hall, I scan the room for a familiar face. I’m not sure if I’m hoping to see one, or hoping not to see one.

  A big guy carrying a plate heaping with food catches my eye and I grin. It’s Kel. I follow him with my eyes. He takes a couple of cookies off a tray, glances around and stuffs them in his pocket. I stand on my tiptoes when he heads toward the back of the room. Unable to see where he went from where I’m standing, I enter the room cautiously.

  Familiar short brown hair catches my eye and I grin from ear to ear. Sitting at the far back table is my carpool. Kel, Emerson, and even Ernesto. I didn’t realize just how much I missed them until now. I’m excited to say hello and I rush toward them enthusiastically. I wonder how they’re doing. I’m almost to them when I see their heads lift in unison and look right. I stop to see what caught their attention.