Let Go

Shock bolts through me and my face must show it because Lock stops working on the sandwich in his hand and stares at me.

“What is it?” He draws his brows together.

“That’s exactly what I did.” I swallow and lick my lips before continuing. “I wanted to get away. I’d lived with my parents my whole life in a…” I pause, rocking my head back and forth, trying to find the right words, “an unconventional life. Sort of isolated, cut off. And I wanted to see some of the world from a different perspective. But, I did the same thing. Went to the bus station and took the next bus out, wherever it was going, and that’s how I got here.”

“How long have you been living here?”

“Just about four months.”

“And where are your parents?”

“They live on some land right now in Northern Michigan.”

“Wow, you’re a long way from home.”

I think about that for a minute before answering. “I’ve never felt like I had a home. We moved once a year at least. Like I said, it was unconventional. No cell phones, no TV. We were on the road a lot. Homeschooled. We traveled with a…group…a lot of times. Especially when I was younger. Same sort of people. I guess you’d call my parents survivalists.” I take a breath, meeting his eyes before I say any more. “Conspiracy theory, end of days sort of deal. They don’t, well, trust the culture. They think politicians, entertainers, the news media…all of that is just a conspiracy to keep us from seeing what’s real and everyone involved is in on it. The evils of the world. They wanted to always move somewhere out of the country, just never quite got around to it.”

“Ah,” he says, as if that answers some sort of question. “Interesting way to grow up.” He looks at me sort of funny, and I can’t place what he is thinking. But I don’t see any judgment there. “So that explains the lack of a phone.”

I shrug. “Yep. I guess I haven’t caught up to the world yet. How about you? Where did you grow up? Are your parents still alive? Are you close?”

He keeps his eyes on the sandwich work as he answers. “I grew up outside of Indianapolis. A very average life. My parents are both gone. They had me late in life, gave me a solid upbringing.”

“No brothers or sisters?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. No other family, really. They were both only children, like me.”

For the fourth time since we came to the kitchen, I hear a muted ringing coming from his duffel bag which is on the floor by the front door.

“I think someone is trying to call you.”

I see him take a deep breath as he turns and hands me a sandwich on a small white plate, then stands next to me with his own in his hand.

“Yep. My life isn’t as simple as yours.” His words sound sad.

“What do you do?” I take a bite of the sandwich and cover my lips with my fingers as I chew.

“Oh, I’m a jack of many trades, let’s say. I dabble in a few different businesses. But, I’m on a sabbatical right now. Reevaluating things.”

I nod as I swallow the simple but delicious food. “I guess that’s sort of what I’m doing. Do you want to answer that?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I probably should. I’m sorry, just give me a minute, okay?”

I nod, taking another bite of my sandwich and a twinge of doubt hits me as he walks over, kisses me gently on the lips and then moves over to dig into his bag and get his phone. He steps outside and I wonder why he can’t take the call in front of me.

I try to be logical. We are practically strangers, and even though there’s this strange thing going on between us, his not wanting to talk in front of me puts into perspective the cold facts about how little we know about each other.

What if he’s married? Or has a girlfriend?

My stomach turns over on itself and I do what I can to push the thought away.

I finish my sandwich, looking out the window at him pacing the front yard at the cabin, talking to someone. He doesn’t look happy, he runs a hand back and forth over the top of his head and I hop down from the counter as I watch him stuff the phone into his back pocket, put both his hands on the tops of his thighs and bend at the waist for a long moment before standing up, taking a deep breath and heading back to the cabin.

A moment later, he’s back through the front door and I press a smile to my lips. “Everything okay?”

“Are you still here?” He smiles and comes over to where I’m sitting on the sofa, then reaches down and runs a hand down my hair, raising his eyebrows, waiting for my answer.