Yeah and maybe pigs would sprout wings and take flight among the birds.
The truth was, she told me because she was sure that it was the one thing guaranteed to get me to walk away. To leave her, again. And dammit, she was right, because here I was, hundreds of miles from Carson Creek instead of sitting with Pippa and planning for our child.
For our future.
I didn’t know where I was, couldn’t even find a sign to tell me what town or highway I was on, so I pulled over and reached for my guitar. Lyrics and music came in fits and starts, but somehow I managed to fill a small notebook and dozens of napkins with lyrics and music. I don’t know how long I stayed on the side of the road, cars and eighteen wheelers whizzing by while I strummed and hummed until I had the skeleton of two new songs recorded on one of those recorder apps. I used them when it was necessary, but I would never get used to the idea of recording a song on my phone.
Before I knew it, the inside of my truck had cooled considerably and I realized the sun had gone down and darkness had settled all around me. I yanked a flannel from the back seat, tugged it on and went in search of sustenance, which led me to an all-night roadside diner.
“What’ll it be honey?” The woman looked right out of central casting with a beehive hairstyle, a fifties style pink uniform and comfortable off-white orthopedic shoes to complete the picture. There was something comforting in that, and I smiled as she tapped her pen on the notepad.
“I’ll have a large bowl of chili, a double cheeseburger with bacon, onion rings and a tall cola with no ice, thanks.”
“Big appetite for a not so big man. Woman troubles?”
I laughed at her accurate guess. “That obvious?”
“When a guy like you is eating this much, either you lost your job or have woman troubles. Too handsome to have a nine to five, so woman is my guess. Want a milkshake? The chocolate one is made with real chocolate.”
“How can I resist?”
“You can’t honey, that’s why I asked. Order’ll be up in fifteen.”
“Thanks.” I smiled at her retreating form and shook my head, wondering what Pippa was up to at this exact moment. She hadn’t called or reached out by any means, and truthfully I didn’t expect her to. It was on me to call and check in with her, but I didn’t because I’m a coward.
No you’re not.
Except I was. I didn’t want to call and face more rejection, not until I had my head on straight. Not until I knew exactly what to say to Pippa that wouldn’t anger her further. I had to get it right this time.
So I rewrote the lyrics in a new notebook I’d bought at the gas station beside the diner while I waited for my food. When the food arrived, I ate like a man who hadn’t eaten a real meal in weeks, maybe months. A big ol’ slab of apple pie with melted cheddar on top, then I was full and ready to lay my head someplace quiet and anonymous.
I found a cheap hotel to get a decent night of rest, with the plan to return to Carson Creek in the morning, but when morning came I wasn’t ready to face my life yet. Or the truth of what waited for me when I returned. So instead of heading back the way I came, I filled up my tank and kept driving heading to god knows where.
I drove until I was too exhausted and too lost to keep going, which kind of summed up my life lately. I found another anonymous place to rest, except sleep didn’t come at all the second night. Or the third, or even the fourth dammit. No matter how long or how far I drove, no clarity came.
No answers came.
No plans magically formed in my mind.
Sometime after lunch a week later, hell maybe it was more than a week. I’d been driving, thinking and overthinking so long I had no idea how long I’d been gone, but I decided to head back home after a giant platter of ribs, macaroni and cheese, green beans and buttery biscuits. I took my time getting there, hoping I’d have answers before I stuck my key in the front door of my house.
Chapter 24
Pippa
“Oh my goodness, what did he say.” Val’s eyes were wide with excitement as I sat beside her on the living room sofa and told her all about that early morning argument with Ryan where I blurted out the news of my pregnancy.
I shrugged. “He didn’t say anything.” That part still stung, but with each passing day, it was a pill that grew easier to swallow. This was Ryan, the guy who ran away from his problems rather than face them. It hurt like hell, but it was no surprise.