Page 112 of Saddles

I’m not sure why, but there’s something special about going on a long drive in an old truck with a woman snuggled up against my side, listening to her singing offkey to the songs on the radio and messing up the words.

Maybe I had to experience the losses in my life to truly appreciate a moment like this.

I hope when I’m eighty I can pinpoint this memory and get the same sense of warmth running through me that I feel now.

As the buildings grow in frequency, her carefree serenade falls quiet.

“Nervous?” I finally ask, touching the top of her forehead with my lips.

Her hair brushes the whiskers on my chin when she nods.

“It’ll be fine.” I give her thigh a light squeeze as I take a left at the turn.

She decided about fifty miles ago we’d go to the hospital first, Chinos afterwards.

“I haven’t talked to him since…that night.” Her voice is a whisper that I can barely hear over the thrum of the engine.

“Boy, he’s really gonna have a surprise when I come waltzing in with you.” I’m not exactly confident in my chuckle, but I won’t let her know I’m apprehensive too.

She snorts. “Oh yea, this will be fun. I’ve never brought anyone to meet him before.” She turns to smile up at me. “Promise not to run away if he gets mad?”

“Never.” I’m in for the long haul.

It’s as if she gave me a second chance in life. Ripped me out of the clutches of death.

I’m hers until she tells me she’s done.

When I pull into the parking spot and turn off the truck, she remains frozen in the seat.

“How do I even tell him?” she stammers, her eyes stare forward unfocused.

I tug her knees around so she’s facing me. “You do whatever you’re comfortable with. After what he did, you don’t owe him anything.” My thumb grazes her chin as I cup her neck and pull her head down to meet mine. “Whatever happens doesn’t matter. After today, it’ll be your choice if you ever see him again.”

Her lips thin, but her jaw sets. “Okay. I’m glad you’re here, you make this easier.”

That draws a genuine laugh out of me. “I ain’t ever been told that before.”

She tugs her coat zipper up, then slides into my arms. “Ready for the show?”

I thread my fingers through hers to walk her inside.

The woman behind the administration desk plasters her practiced smile on. “May I help you?”

April approaches tentatively.

She must really be dreading this. How big of a prick is this guy?

“I’m here to see Albert Nelson.” She clutches my hand to her side.

Quick keystrokes are followed by the woman’s mouth slipping into a frown. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s family only.”

“I’m his daughter, April Nelson.”

The clerk twists her lips, then shrugs. “Room three-seventeen. Third floor.”

Once we hit the elevator, April fidgets with my sleeve, then shifts her weight back and forth.

Her rapid breathing is a dead giveaway to how antsy she is.

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