IT’S SUNDAY EVENING and just about time to leave for the next city, Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Everything is packed up and ready to go. Noa appears to be surviving her first week on the tour. She hasn’t complained once about the fast pace of the competition once it starts, even though I know I heard her name a thousand times in three hours. She’s exhausted right now; I caught her napping at the kitchen table so I just left her be to make my weekly call to my son.
“Hey, Buddy. I just thought I’d call before we hit the road for our next city. How’ve you been?” Something great must have happened because he answered the phone way too quick. Almost like he’s been sitting there waiting for it to ring.
“Dad. I’m good. Guess what? Mom’s home,” he blurts out quickly, barely containing the excitement in his tiny little body. He was ready to explode with that news, I bet.
“That’s good, Rowan. I’m glad to hear it. Are you home with her or are you still staying with your grandparents?” God I pray he’s still with this grandparents. That’s the last thing Julie needs during her recovery, is Rowan overly excited and bouncing off the walls.
“I’m still at Nana and Grandpops place. Mom said we couldn’t return to our apartment, so she’s out looking for another one. I heard her arguing with our old landlord about getting some kind of deposit back as soon as we clean out our stuff.”
Good Lord. Another move, more new friends and probably another new school. They move around more than I do on tour. “Just make sure you pack up everything, okay? Don’t leave anything behind.”
“I know Dad. Everything’s already packed up. I barely unpacked from the last move. It’s too hard to pack everything up all at once. Sometimes I think we move a lot just so I have to clean my room. Do you think that’s why?”
I’m speechless right now. I honestly don’t know what to say to him. He’s too young to know the truth but he’s smart enough to know I’m lying to spare his feelings. “No, Rowan. Sometimes finding a nice place to live is like a treasure hunt. You have to keep looking until you find the right place. X marks the spot in a way. Have you seen any X’s at those apartments?”
He sighs into the phone and I know he’s considering my question, no matter how stupid it sounds. He’s really smart and someday he’s going to figure me out and I’m gonna be screwed.
“Nope. I haven’t seen any X’s. I’ll keep looking though; I promise. Grandpop and I watched you on TV last night. You were awesome, Dad.”
“Oh yeah, you did, huh? Which ride was your favorite?” I love it when we get to talk about the competitions. It soothes my soul and fills that gnawing void I have that the other dad’s don’t with their son’s walking around talking about riding strategy.
“The second one on Mudshark. He flipped you around like a rag doll, but when he whipped to the left at 6.9 seconds, I knew you had him.” I chuckle at the language he chooses to use. My guess is his grandfather made those statements and he’s just repeating them.
“Well, thanks for having faith in me, little man. I appreciate it.”
“I’m coming,” I hear him say to someone in the background. “Dad, I have to go eat dinner. Can you call me back in a little bit? I’ve already done my homework. I promise.”
“Bud, I’ve got to get on the road, but how about I call back around 8:45 pm. We’ll talk again just before bedtime. Okay?”
“Deal. Later, Dad. I love you.” I close my eyes and picture those words coming out of his lips every time I hear them. I can almost feel his tiny arms snake around my neck, gripping me with the strength of a bull.
“I love you too, Rowan. Until later.” I close the call and just lay there in the top bunk of my extra bedroom. My feet are hanging over the mattress, but I’m absolutely comfortable.
He’s the one thing I’m determined to do right.
I’m far from fucking perfect. His mother and I never should have gotten married. We were an alcohol-induced week of winning and celebration. I had money burning a hole in my Wranglers from winning my first belt buckle, and she was the hottest ass in Daisy Dukes in Dallas. I don’t think I sobered up from that ride until a few weeks later when she told me she was pregnant.
She became my wildest ride. Four years of living hell. We’ve been to the highest of her highs and the lowest of her lows. With Julie, there was no medium— it was one or the other. Her parents and I got her cleaned up and on a good path. Then, and only then, was I able to leave to pursue my dream. Her parents agreed with the move and offered to help with Rowan.
Twice I’ve come close to making my dream come true. They say the third time's the charm. Fuck, I hope so because I’m done after this. My body is broken, and the chasm in my heart where everyday activities with my son belong is getting wider and longer. Rowan needs me, and I sure as hell need him.
I roll off the top bunk and look straight down the long hallway into the kitchen.
I can still see her hair flowing over her arm and hanging in the air over the table like suspended lava as she rests her head. Every time I see it, my hands itch to feel its heat and wrap my fingers around it until it shakes the cold from my soul. She’s fire and brimstone, and I could use some soul-shattering heat, but I’ve already been through a woman’s hell, and I won’t go back.
I write my cell number on a sticky note and place it on her phone screen in case she wakes up and wants to ride in the truck. I lock both doors and head out, going softly on the gas as I turn out, trying not to throttle the glass packs and scare the bejesus out of Noa as she sleeps.
It’s not too long before we’re out of the city limits and I get a call that she needs to escape the confines of the camper. I pull over into an empty lot and within a few minutes, she’s climbing up into Colossus. “It’s kind of weird riding back there in the silence. I’m a city girl; I need noise.”
Before pulling out, I check my mirrors and see more circuit campers right behind us. There will be lots of noise now. I was hoping to get a decent head start of everyone. Now when we need to pull over for a pit stop, it’ll be as a convoy.
Horns honk and people wave as they pass while I pick up speed up this hill. “There’s your noise.” I grunt after saying it, grouchy that I won’t get any peace and quiet on this drive. She waves back at her new found friends, ignoring my grumpiness. Driving is when I think. It gives me perspective and those ‘a-ha’ moments that I can’t get outside of the weekly hustle and bustle.
“Are you grouchy because we didn’t eat dinner, or just because you can be?” I turn my head slightly towards her and choose to ignore that last part. “Alright. I see. It’s because I’m up in the cab. I can go back into the camper if you want?” She twists and starts to take off her seatbelt.
“Stop. Put that back on.” I take a deep breath, swallowing my pride with having to admit I like her company. “It’s not you. I’m just not used to having someone to talk to during my drives. And now I feel like I need to dig deep and find some good conversation topics for us.”
I glance sideways at her and watch a smile spread across her left cheek before she leans forward and her hair falls to cover it. When she looks up again, the smile is gone, and she’s all business with her poker face in place. What happened in that millisecond?
“We’ve got six weeks of road-tripping together that’s full of constant contact. I think that’s plenty of time to get to know someone. Please don’t feel like you have to fill every silent void with noise. You’ll drive me crazy if you do that.”
I zone out on the rest of the conversation as soon as I hear ‘constant contact’. Images flash in my mind of her kneeling down over me on the bed, lifting her t-shirt up to reveal a green lacy bra and perfect California-kissed skin underneath. She twists the front bra clasp open and tosses it onto the floor. Her sunset-colored hair cascades down around her allowing her nipples to play peek-a-boo between the loose strands.
“Oh, shit.” I jerk the wheel back onto the road as the right wheel hits the rumble strips, pulling me out of my daydream. “I’m so sorry.”
I glance over at her, and her face is ashen white with panic. White knuckles tightly grip her seatbelt with one hand, while the other is above her holding the ‘Holy shit’ handle with a death grip while I straighten us back into the lane.
“If you’re tired, I can drive.”
“No. I’m fine. I just zoned-out for a second. I have to pull over soon and call my son anyway. We can eat dinner then.” I arch my back and adjust myself in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure my hard dick is putting on the back of my zipper. Fuck.
We drive in silence for an hour. Her big gray eyes take in the sights of somber, lifeless granite and rolling hills as the night falls around us near Casper, Wyoming.
We pull into a restaurant and park in the back, away from the other vehicles. I doubt the rest of the convoy will appear. We’re taking an alternate route to try to avoid them. Like Noa says, she’ll have plenty of time to get to know them over the next year. We don’t need to become BFF’s with the entire circuit in one trip.
The wind picks up as soon as we exit the truck and she inhales the clean, mountain air. “There’s a big storm coming,” she says, sounding as sure as the wind blowing through the parking lot. Her hair whips into her face, and she can’t see to walk any further, so she turns to face it head-on. The edges of her wildfire hair tickle my neck as it blows when we walk faster, seeking cover from the brutal wind.
“It’s the ozone. It rides the downdraft of a thunderstorm until it reaches nose level. We can’t normally smell it, but it’s pungent when a thunderstorm is rolling in.” We take our seats and at least I’ve learned my lesson; I go ahead and sit down to avoid a gentleman’s argument with her.
“Did you learn that in medical school?”
“No. My dad and I are nerds. I keep telling you this; you choose not to believe it. We watch a lot of Nat Geo documentaries.” Her phone buzzes and a very beautiful woman’s face appears on the screen. She swipes it left, ignoring the call and sending it to voicemail, but I swear I recognize that face. “I would come home from studying for my boards and he would have several queued up to binge watch. I mean, come on, who binge watches documentaries? Nerds, that’s who.”
She lets out a little snort as she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand, embarrassed about her little display of unbridled joy. Her cheeks are tinged with a slight blush that causes her freckles to enhance the coloring that’s blooming on her face. Damn she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She has this little upturn to her nose that is completely adorable when she smiles. It’s also pixie-ish.
The waitress approaches our table and I’ve not even begun to look at the menu. “Go ahead, Doc. I don’t know what I want yet.”
“Umm, I’ll just have a Caesar salad and a grilled cheese sandwich, if that’s okay?”
“And I’ll take a Bacon Cheeseburger and potato wedges.” I pick up her menu and hand both of them to the waitress. Her phone rings again and it’s the same face calling. She must really need to talk to her. “You can take that if you need too.” I swear I know that face.
“Nah. It’s my sister, and we have rules. No phones during dinner. She probably just wants to gossip.” She swipes across her face, sending the call to voicemail again.
“Ooh, Hollywood dirt. I could go for some of that.” Her smile fades, sending a chill across the table.
Shit, Braxton. Back off, you dumb ass.
Her phone rings again. This time she answers, letting her sister know she’s annoyed, “I’m at dinner. Can I call you back?” A high-pitched squeal of glee emits from the phone and it’s so loud, Noa holds the phone away from her ear. “Monty, yes. I get that you’re excited, but I’m eating. I promise I will call you back.” She rolls her eyes at whatever she is saying and eventually gets in one word “Good-bye” before ending the call.
Holy shit. Her sister is Montgomery Knight. That’s why her face is so familiar. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. She received some great news and wanted to share. I’ll call her back later and get the dirt for you.”
“I was just kidding about that. I don’t know if my ears could handle all of that squealing. It sounded like a pod of Orca’s approaching. I don’t know how you understood one word she was saying.”
“A pod of Orcas? Who’s nerding now?” She laughs and throws her wadded up straw paper at me hitting me on the tip of my nose, perfect aim. There isn’t anyone more perfect than the one sitting in front of me now.
“I may or may not have watched a Nat Geo documentary about Orcas in my downtime.”
Heavy rain starts to pelt the roof of the restaurant and every face turns towards the windows. Big sheets of wind-driven rain pours down from the sky, battering the vehicles in the parking lot. I’m glad it’s not hail.
“Looks like we might be here for a while.” She bounces in her seat trying to get a better view of the rain, a worrisome look falling across her face. “I hate storms.”
“It might be a long night then.”