Page 20 of Missile Tow
“I can’t take him,” he replied. “I was hoping you’d want him with you now.”
“Now?” I mumbled. “Like a parting gift?”
“He was your dog, too.”
“And you were mine too,” I snarked. “That’s what you promised all these years.”
I was getting my legs underneath me now. I had a million comebacks ready to fire at him. I would convince him to reconsider. I had our shared experiences, time, and love as my plan to keep him.
“Things change, Chip.I’vechanged. I’m unhappy here.”
My list of comebacks deflated the second he stated he was unhappy. I knew the score when someone said they were unhappy. They meant unhappy with me. I was crushed, but no way would I stand in the way of an unhappy person. An unhappy person blames their circumstances on others. And when they blame, they’re usually looking at you.
“I’ve never wanted anything but your happiness, John. I wish you the best.”
I stood and began walking to the bedroom. “That’s it? You wish me the best?” he said, hurrying behind me and grabbing my arm, turning me around. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” I answered.
“Jesus!” he exclaimed. “I kind of expected more from you.”
“Seriously? You expected more from me?” I hissed. “Then let me ask you this, John. Are you willing to stay?” I asked. “Work on things? Maybe see if you can fix being unhappy?”
“Probably not,” he confessed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Then, yes. Just like that.”
I closed the bedroom door and stood at the window, marveling at the quiet in the cabin. Pooch whined at the bottom of the door, sniffing and trying to figure out what was happening in the bedroom.
John’s footsteps alerted me to his departure. I waited until he walked out of the garage and looked toward the window I stood in. Snow had covered the blue tarp over his belongings, hiding the evidence of his impending departure from my life.
The taillights on his truck glowed red until he turned onto the paved road. Exhaust slowly evaporated in the cold. And then came the quiet. The loudest sound there is.
CHAPTER TEN: VAN
The navigation system updated the next leg of my trip as one hundred and twenty miles to St. Regis, Montana. St. Regis wasn’t my destination, but Evan’s new boyfriend, John, had mentioned fueling up in Missile instead of St. Regis. And truthfully, I was obsessed with stopping by Missile to see what the mystery I’d conjured up in my mind was all about.
Evan’s recent nasty texts had read that John was threatening to go back to Missile after their blow-up concerning what John had discovered about my and Evan’s breakup. Like John, I’d been lied to as well. I was led to believe John was a work colleague of Evan’s, and that they met that way. John knew otherwise and was ashamed Evan had lied to me.
But after the parking garage meet and greet, I knew John had an ex in Missile. He’d confessed he’d handled their breakup poorly, and he felt bad about how he’d treated his ex. I appreciated his candor and had enjoyed his brief description of the tiny town he was from. I was curious enough to take him up on the suggestion of waiting to buy gas until I got to Missile to save a few bucks.
All the intrigue, plus the Christmas miracle road trip I had planned, required me to investigate. I believe the universe sends you signals, and points the way sometimes, so who was I to ignore a loud and clear signal from the beyond? I was literallyconvinced Missile held something for me to discover. Perhaps that thing was a man.
Crossing the border into Idaho from Washington, found ever-increasing snowfall. Digital roadside signage warned of chains being required unless you had an all-wheel drive vehicle. I had both, but hoped the all-wheel drive would suffice because I had no idea how to install the chains.
My plan was to see if I could safely get past Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, and Fourth of July Pass—a weird name for a mountain pass—and then on to Missile. I’d have to drive over the Bitterroot Mountains, and Lookout Pass on the Idaho/Montana border as well. Lookout Pass was known to close during winter storms due to its extreme elevation.
If I could traverse those two passes safely, I would then come down the other side of the mountains and be able to make it to Missile with daylight still available. After a quick fuel-up across the border in Idaho, I was on my way.
Traveling alone gave me ample time to reflect on my past year. As much as I’d like to admit I came through the experience a better person, I doubted my heart felt that way. I’d been lonely. I’d been a recluse and a downer to be around. I knew my psyche was bruised and my mind wouldn’t stop trying to convince me I had failed at my first relationship.
Evan had made me out to be the main cause of our breakup. I knew he needed to look like the good guy, and that meant he’d deploy the type of rumors and tactics where he came out looking rosy in every breakup story he retold.
The truth was, he outgrew me. I’d been blinded by his good looks, and then his perceived success, and before I knew it, he’d sucked me into his lifestyle. I shouldn’t blame him because I did covet what his portrayal of achievement offered. I bought into the image of being part of an A-team gay couple. With his guidance, I figured we were excelling at life.
But that lifestyle wasn’t really me. Being gay probably contributed to desiring to be seen as fabulous. Having him as eye candy on my arm, and us living Seattle’s best life, I was convinced I’d arrived and my existence would be a piece of cake from there on out. Maybe his lifestyle recognized an interloper like me and slapped me upside the head.
“He’s not one of us,”my imaginary lifestyle voice declared to the universe.
