LIKE SERIOUSLY, THIS man is...too much! When we get back to our brother and sister vibe, he goes and pulls a romantic cab picnic scene out of the clear blue on me. I mean, I know it was my suggestion, but I meant it as the most platonic, simple, country snacking feast as possible. Not this. I feel like there should be sconces lit from the side windows or something completely ridiculous like that.
I can’t even look over at him. I keep watching the sun dip lower across the other side of the hill. The once light pink clouds have turned the color of cantaloupe as the sun blazes out its final rays before extinguishing its light for the night.
My legs are stretched out and crossed with my heels resting on the window ledge of the backseat. There’s a slight breeze blowing in from the west, and I can smell fresh, cut grass from the lawnmower buzzing in the distance. I reach for the pretzels on my plate without looking only to come up empty-handed. I ate them all and didn’t even realize it.
I swallow the lump in my throat, thinking that the silence between us might be getting awkward. I open my mouth to speak but think better of it before I utter a syllable. Here we are in a very comfortable silence, so why do I feel the need to talk? I don’t have anything special to say, and he seems to be content to sit here with me.
My phone buzzes from the cup holder it’s sitting in, and I look over to see my dad’s face on my Skype app.
“Hey, Daddy!”
“There’s my girl. God, I’ve missed your smile, and your face, and voice and all the great things that make you my girl.”
“So you don’t miss the bad things?”
“What bad things? What are these lies people have been feeding you? You are the purest ray of sunshine that ever dawned on this Earth, and don’t you forget it.”
“Thanks, Daddy. How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been outnumbered without you here, so I thought I’d check out of Hollywood for a few moments and see what’s been going on in your new world. Lay it on. What have you been up to?”
“Well...” I hold the phone out the window and show him what I’m looking at, turning and tilting it for him to get the full panoramic view. “I’m watching the sun set over the horizon somewhere in Minnesota.”
“And it looks like you are enjoying every moment of it. You’ve never looked better.”
“Aww, Dad. Thank you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you are buttering me up for some disturbing news from home.”
“No. Absolutely not. You know that’s not my style. Besides, I never know what’s going on in this family. I leave that up to your sister and mother.”
“How’s the roadie life treating you? Do you have everything you need? I can send you anything you are lacking; you know that, but I’m sure you’d get it yourself if you needed it.”
“Yes, Dad. I’ve got everything I need and then some. They are taking just as good of care of me as I am of them. We’re all good.”
“That’s all I need to hear. It’s almost dinner time, so I had better let you go, but not before I show you this...” he holds the phone out and shows me the view of the Hollywood valley as it fades into the ocean. He’s slouched down in the lounge chair as far as he can go; mimicking me, lining himself up with the infinity pool so that it looks like he’s floating over the edge with the water.
I hold the phone out for Braxton to see what I’m seeing, and his jaw drops before turning into that amazingly, wide smile he has. His dimples deepen with each second my dad holds the view for us. He’s been sitting here silent; quietly listening to the fierce love between a father and his daughter. He deserves this peaceful moment.
A single tear rolls down my cheek and plops onto my tank top leaving a wet mark. I rub it with my thumb to get it to dry just as another tear falls in the same spot. “I love you, Noa Bear. Take care of yourself and call your old man every now and then.” He hangs up the phone without turning the phone back to his face. I’m sure he was blubbering like I am now. That’s my dad.
I use the pads of my thumbs to catch the last remaining tears that had not fallen from my eyes, and then pitch our plates in the garbage bag before rolling the snack bags closed. Braxton re-situates his chair and turns the engine on, letting it warm up before we hit the road again.
The moon is awakening as the sun begins to slumber in our small part of this world. It’s time to move on. “Want me to drive?” He stops mid-way through shifting the gear into drive, giving my question some thought.
“Nah. I need to stay busy with driving. My mind is running wild tonight and driving keeps me focused.”
“Wanna talk about it?” I ask, as I look out the front windshield and try to be casual about it. I wish he’d talk to me. Bottling it up inside isn’t going to do him any good. “I’m a good listener.”
He sighs heavily, mulling over his problems. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re a good listener Doc. It’s that I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”
“A shared burden is a lighter load to carry,” my grandmother used to say.
His strong jawline clenches tightly, before turning into a dimple-splitting smile again, shaking his head and cocking his eyebrow up at me. “If I tell you, then you’ll start to worry about me, and then I’ll start to worry about you worrying about me. It’s a vicious cycle of worry that won’t start if I don’t share. See the problem here?”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Is this how all men think? No wonder we have a single-forever epidemic in this country.”
“I don’t know if that’s how all men think, but it’s how my brain works. I’m not easy, but you know that already.” He winks at me, teasing me with that innocent cowboy smile. He thinks he can charm his way out of this situation.
“Well, I’m not a worrier; I’m a doer— and if I can’t do anything, then I listen. Sometimes you need to release it from your inner self before it becomes cancer that deflates your hopes, destroys your dreams, and sickens your well-being.”
He slows the truck down as we come upon a pregnant doe standing at the side of the highway. She’s trapped behind the guardrail with a swollen belly. Her eyes dart to the river and then back to our headlights several times trying to make a decision.
“Is there anyone coming behind us?” I can’t see in the mirrors from my seat being pushed back too far. Brax looks up in the rearview mirror.
“Nope. No other headlights on the horizon.” He eases the transmission into park. “Slide over here, and when I say so, lay on the horn, but keep your eyes on the rearview mirror. I don’t want to get hit saving her.” He switches the main headlights off and turns on the yellow parking lamps before jumping out onto the road.
He circles her, easing up behind her on the other side of the railing. I don’t know how close he plans on getting, but she shifts first in warning, perking her little ears and tail up when his boot crunches on the loose gravel. His hands clap loudly as he inches forward step by step.
Her belly is so swollen with her fawn; I know she can’t jump it. She might be heading to deliver near the river when she got stuck here with us. Brax guides her to the edge of the railing, clapping his hands with each step she takes away from him.
They finally come to the curled safety edge of the guardrail, and I look in the rearview to gauge other vehicles. There is one coming, but it’s a long ways off; Brax turns because he sees it too. He makes a snickering noise at her, and she finally realizes she’s clear of the railing and bolts across the road.
Braxton yells, “Horn” and I lay on it, half scaring the doe and myself. I'm cheering her on in my mind— come on, come on. Hurry! She high-tails it across all the lanes and over into the wooded area near the water.
I remove my hand from the center of the steering wheel when Braxton pulls open the driver’s door. I resume my seat as he settles back into his. “That was amazing. You’re a good man, Braxton Ryder. A perfect man.”
“Every living creature should get the chance to experience being a parent. It’s the greatest treasure God can entrust you with.” He removes his hat and runs his fingers through his tousled hair before fitting it back into that permanent indentation of his hair. “There’s another adventure for your 'finding new experiences' journey.”
I gasp so deeply; I choke on my own spit. “What? I’m not a parent, or are you asking me to become a parent?” I thump my chest a few times, clearing the cough as I catch my breath.
His deep chuckle rumbles through my skin and makes all the blood rush to my core. “No. I meant saving the mama doe, but maybe someday I’ll take you up on that offer.” He winks and starts Colossus, easing him back onto the road. The heat from an unsuspecting blush races up my chest and blooms on my face.
I slap at his arm, teasingly. “Hey, I wasn’t offering.” Or at least not yet. I pinch the rounded collar of my tank top, fanning myself.
He quirks that sexy eyebrow up at me again. The hint of his dimple tormenting me. “You sure? The way your face lit up made it look like an offer.”
“Now that our life-saving experience is over, still want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
A long, uneasy silence fills the cab of the truck. The only noise invading our small space is the sound of the tires hitting the potholes winter left behind.
Stress radiates from his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. I start to count the mile marker signs posted on the highways, getting lost in my thoughts. This is him keeping me at a distance; shutting me out. I pride myself on my coolness. I can be patient and wait him out.
“My ex-wife is an addict.” He whispers it like it was a roar from deep down in his soul that ran out of momentum as it got to his lips. I have no words for that confession, so I do what I promised I would and listen intently.
“I’m listening.” I reach over and firmly squeeze his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel. He glances at me with acknowledgment before re-focusing on the road ahead.
“We met in a haze of alcohol. I was celebrating my first invitation to the bull riding circuit when she anchored herself to my entourage of friends. I thought she knew one of us; turns out she knew no one— she just wanted to party hard, and we had cash and alcohol flowing. I’ve never put drugs into my body, and I was too drunk to know what she was putting into hers.”
Highway signs for Milwaukee start to appear about fifty miles outside of town. I’ve got a feeling his timing for story hour was planned.
“Two weeks into the tour, Bobby from the bar where I rode and worked called me. Said this chick was looking for me for paternity issues. I jumped on that quick because I knew there was no way...but to be honest, I couldn’t tell you if I even tried to wrap it up. Sad, isn’t it?”
He gives me a sideways glance, but my poker face is on tonight. I promised no judgments, and I keep my promises. “Lust.” It’s as simple a word as that. He agrees with a grunt and a nod of his hat.
“Seven years later, she’s still an addict. But instead of me taking care of her, our son is doing it.” His voice cracks on that last phrase, and “it” comes out like a sad wail. I watch him swallow down a hard lump of anger and shame before wiping the tears from his cheeks. He looks straight ahead, not wanting to show his wet face, but I can see it through the headlights of the oncoming cars.
I grab a few napkins from the snack bag I brought from the camper and hand them to him, but he wads them up in his fist.
“That day I borrowed your phone...she had overdosed while driving him to school. He called me and begged me not to call the police, but to call 9-1-1, so she didn’t die.” He blows out a long breath and swipes at more tears that dare to fall before continuing. “So I called an old friend who works for the county emergency services. He got her some help, but she still ended up in trouble. Her court date is on Wednesday, and her attorney has asked Rowan to appear in court.”
He beats his fist on the steering wheel and accidentally hits the horn, making me jump. “Don’t let him go alone, Braxton. They both need your support.” I reach over and squeeze his hand again. This time, he grabs it and squeezes back.
He shudders quick shallow breaths of air trying to calm his emotions down to a dull roar. He may not like the beginning of his story with her, but I know he’s a good man and he’ll make sure they’re both okay. I know it as well as I know I’m breathing right now.
“You know what he told me he wants to be when he grows up?” He removes his hat and tosses it to the backseat, allowing me to see his face. Glassy, red-rimmed eyes are staring hard at me.
“No, what?”
“A doctor, so he can help people like his mother. Now, I know lots of kids say they want to be doctors, but what kind of kid wants to be an addiction doctor? It just breaks my heart that he knows these things.”
“He’s a great kid; a compassionate kid that has his morals screwed on right. Sometimes our life experiences aren’t perfect, but they make us better people. Be proud of that.”
We pull into the lot assigned to us for the show this weekend. We’re the first ones here, so we get the pick of the lot. Braxton chooses the far corner on W Juneau across from the sports complex and closest to the hotel that Myla is staying at. I’m so excited that she’ll be here in three days.
“As soon as we get settled, I need to get a plane ticket to Texas. Don’t let me fall asleep without doing that.”
“Alright. I can do that,” I promise, before lifting the handle to the door and blasting us both with interior cab lights.
He winces and groans, not quite ready for the brightness, “Well, I’m awake now.”