“YOU READY TO GO BACK home, sweetheart?” I ask Chloe as I’m strapping her into her car seat in my old Ford. I didn’t plan on leaving while it was still dark out but sleep evaded me last night. After four long months in San Diego, I’m eager to get back to Hermosa Beach and I figure Chloe can sleep in the car.
I pull out my special phone and text E before we get on the road. Since it’s so early in the morning, I don’t expect a response but I know he’d want to know I’m heading home and I plan on letting him know we arrived when we get there. We’re both very vigilant on letting each other know we’re safe when driving anywhere.
I’m on my way home.
After sexting last night, I feel even closer to him. Although it was virtual, being intimate bonded us more than words ever could. I also said things I’d never have the courage to say if he was actually there with me. That’s the main reason I couldn’t sleep. Although I find it strange to have sexual feelings for someone I’ve never met, I couldn’t get the image of him naked and touching himself out of my mind. I’ve absolutely pictured him naked before but never like that. Now I can’t get him out of my head.
I can’t wait to get home. I know I’m never going to meet him. We have an unspoken agreement. We started out simply saving each other but over these past months and countless hours of texts, our friendship has transformed into love. What we have together is special and pure and it belongs only to us. We were both married to the loves of our lives. That love will never die, but now we have our love and neither of us will EVER ruin that by crossing any of those dangerous lines.
We’re halfway through our drive home when Chloe asks me a question that breaks my heart and reminds me why I left in the first place.
“Is Daddy going to be there?” she asks with a hopeful tone in her voice.
“No, he’s not, sweet pea,” I answer with a heavy heart. “Remember what I told you? Daddy is living in the sky with the angels. But Grandma and Papa will be there.”
“YAY!” She giggles and I thank God it’s so easy to redirect a five-year-old. Breaking the news to her about her dad was so hard and it never gets any easier when she asks about him.
Chloe turned five last December. My mother made an appearance to wish her granddaughter a happy birthday but that was all she did. I knew she wouldn’t have a gift so I bought one for her to give to Chloe.
Rodger and Beverly, on the other hand, went all out. They sent her a box filled with gifts and balloons. When Chloe opened the box and balloons floated out, she squealed, liking the balloons almost as much as the collection of Frozen paraphernalia they sent. There was a party at her preschool and later, Sandi, Beth, and I took the girls down to San Diego to spend the day at Sea World.
As soon as we get close to home I pull off to the side of the road to text E. He sent me a text which I read when I stopped for gas. Be safe was all it said, but his words screamed volumes. I know he’s on pins and needles, waiting to hear I made it home safe. I would be too if the situation were reversed.
Almost back in the South Bay. I’m meeting the in-laws and may be busy. I didn’t want you to worry.
Since my car is old, it acts up a lot. I’m thankful we make it home in one piece. I’ve been putting off getting a new car, but I know it’s time. Scott and I had planned on going car shopping before he was killed and after…well, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. But now I don’t feel safe driving it anymore, so I plan on talking to Rodger as soon as I’m home to make the change. Sometimes when I apply the brakes it lunges forward. I know this, so I stop far enough behind the car in front of me so I won’t hit it if the brakes don’t stick.
It’s still early when I arrive and the usually busy streets are eerily quiet. As I’m driving up the road towards my house a large golden blur runs out in front of my car. I slam my foot on the brakes but my truck lurches forward.
SCREECH! BUMP!
OH MY GOD!
“Wait in the car, baby!” I shout as I jump out. “Mommy will be right back.”
I rush around to the front of the car and when I see a dog lying unconscious in the street, I lose it and start sobbing. I fall to the ground and gently place the dog’s head on my lap, trying to get it to wake up. At the sound of heavy footsteps, I look up and see a man in workout clothes running towards us. He sees the dog on my lap, turns white as a ghost, and freezes. He’s rooted to the spot as if stuck in cement. The look on his face is beyond sheer terror; he’s haunted. I know that look. I live it, every goddamn day of my life. His eyes are wide and empty. It’s as if he’s not even in his body anymore. Something unimaginable must have happened to him, because this is beyond any sort of normal reaction. He looks from his dog to me to my car and back at his dog again. I watch as his eyes gain focus and my heart breaks when he cries out in agony, repeating the word “no” over and over again.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stutter. “He ran in front of my car and…” My tears stop me from saying anything more. This can’t be happening.
He looks up at the sky, closes his eyes, and mouths words, too quiet for me to hear.
When he looks at me again, he shakes his head, which must have killed the fog he’s been in because his eyes fill with rage, his face turns red, and he starts shouting.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”
“I…” I can’t finish my sentence because the look in his eyes has me paralyzed.
Still standing in the same spot, still rooted to the ground, he looks at me with so much agony I sob again, harder. I know people become attached to their dogs but this reaction is different, so very different. I know immediately this must be about something so much bigger than his dog. He crouches down and puts his hands behind his neck, his elbows on his thighs, his eyes facing downward. He stays that way for several heartbeats before he straightens up and looks at me once again. But he’s not looking at me, he is just looking out into space…completely lost.
What happened to you?
“I don’t have my car,” he mutters in a resigned voice, more to himself than to me. He starts pacing back and forth a few times, mumbling about not having his keys, cell phone or wallet, before he stops, grabs the back of his neck, and looks back down towards the ground like he’s trying to figure out what to do.
“Let me take you to the vet,” I blurt out, still on the ground, still with his dog’s head on my lap. “You can drive and I’ll hold your dog on my lap.”
Let me help you.
Normally I wouldn’t be comfortable letting a stranger drive my car but I’m absolutely positive he’d never get in the car if I was driving. He doesn’t trust me and I don’t blame him.