Drawn Together
Page 78
Jonah Warner wanted her totally and utterly. And that included her past. But he trusted her to reveal it in her time. A gift from this pushy, bossy man who drove, not because he was worried about how she drove, but because he liked to be in control. And she didn’t care about driving one way or the other enough to tussle with him over it. It was most likely the sex chemicals still pulsing through her system. But whatever worked.
She hugged her coffee to her chest and sat back. Telling him things was good. For so long she’d held on to the details of her life because she hadn’t trusted anyone to hear them and not judge her. Hell, they judged her before they heard the story, so why bother? The telling made her vulnerable and she’d never wanted to be at anyone’s mercy ever again.
But with him there was an unburdening of sorts. He wanted to know her with such an intense hunger that was patient at the same time. And when she spoke the words, they had less power over her.
“My first vacation I didn’t know what to do.”
He kept his gaze on the road, but she knew he was listening.
“I had settled in Los Angeles enough to have rented a small mother-in-law apartment over a friend’s garage. He and his wife were nice people. She, the wife, left me things on the porch. Bread sometimes. Extra fruit and vegetables from their backyard garden. They took a week’s vacation every six months. To the Grand Canyon or to Glacier National Park. So I thought, why not me? I planned a road trip to San Francisco. Just a weekend’s stay. I loved it. So I started doing them all the time. I loved all the places to stop. I loved all the pictures I could take. I’d stop at those stands . . . Have you been on the 5 from Los Angeles to the Bay Area?”
“Yes. I know which ones you mean.”
“So I’d stop there and buy stuff and then when I got to San Francisco I’d have food for a while. I’d wander down to whatever part of the city I was staying in and I’d eat locally. And then I met Brody and Erin and I decided to road trip up to Seattle. Brody and I . . . well, you know. Anyway, I managed to house-sit and live in places before escrow closed and after the owners had moved out. Always in my own place. But I liked it up there.”
“What did you think when you flew the first time?”
“I’m not a fan of airplanes. Enclosed spaces for really long periods of time when I can’t stop and stretch my legs or whatever, it makes me nervous. Plus you know they’re always watching you and so I have to be so careful and it takes the fun out of it. But I have to get on planes to go to Hawaii, so I deal. I just remember seeing all these families and wondering if they realized how awesome it was that they were giving their kids memories.”
“Clearly you’ve never been on a road trip with a kid in the car.” He chuckled.
“Oh, I know it’s a pain sometimes and there’s a lot of ‘are we there yet’ and stuff. But every time you go on vacation you’re putting your energy onto your family or the people you travel with. You’re stepping from your everyday life with these other people. Like now. I mean, this isn’t a vacation, but I’m going to remember the time I’ve spent here with you. The way you look when you wake up in the mornings. How you talk to waitresses at diners. You’re a flirt.”
“Hey, my flirting got you pie when they thought they were out.”
“That’s true. You do make the ladies go googly-eyed. Anyway, travel is my way of saying a big old f**k-you to my childhood and all the people in that town who told me over and over again I’d never be anything.”
She’d wondered for most of her life why they’d all treated her the way they had. What she’d done to them to engender such nastiness. She told herself it didn’t matter, and by that point it didn’t because she’d made something out of herself. Maybe because they were so shitty to her and she had to make a point.
Travel taught you things. Travel exposed you to new people and other perspectives. It broadened your life and helped you cope when things got complicated. It was one of her favorite things.
“Only now you don’t travel to run away.”
She paused for a long time, thinking about it. She’d wanted to deny it immediately. But really, he was right. Her lifestyle had been one of never staying in one place for very long. It had kept her from putting down roots and from getting run over by people.
“You’re very smart.”
“I am. I’m also really good at eating pu**y.”
She laughed, reaching out to run her hand down his arm. To reassure herself that he was really there. That he’d come for her. Because he loved her.
They stopped for lunch an hour or so out of Happy Bend and he noticed she only picked at her food. He’d considered suggesting she just leave it all alone. After all, she had a good life now. She knew where her mother was. What did it matter that her aunt had lied?
But it did matter and he understood that she needed the closure. She had a lot of rage inside. She’d dealt with a lot of the hurt and disappointment. Though he supported her getting therapy when they returned to process more. But the anger? He knew it was there. The questions regarding why they’d not only lied, but why they’d been so harsh with how they’d done it. All that remained and she needed to be an adult woman confronting her aunt about it.
“You’re going to . . . The town isn’t like a television small town.” She’d gotten very quiet when they’d approached Happy Bend.
“I’m going to what?”
She hugged her coffee to her chest and sat back. Telling him things was good. For so long she’d held on to the details of her life because she hadn’t trusted anyone to hear them and not judge her. Hell, they judged her before they heard the story, so why bother? The telling made her vulnerable and she’d never wanted to be at anyone’s mercy ever again.
But with him there was an unburdening of sorts. He wanted to know her with such an intense hunger that was patient at the same time. And when she spoke the words, they had less power over her.
“My first vacation I didn’t know what to do.”
He kept his gaze on the road, but she knew he was listening.
“I had settled in Los Angeles enough to have rented a small mother-in-law apartment over a friend’s garage. He and his wife were nice people. She, the wife, left me things on the porch. Bread sometimes. Extra fruit and vegetables from their backyard garden. They took a week’s vacation every six months. To the Grand Canyon or to Glacier National Park. So I thought, why not me? I planned a road trip to San Francisco. Just a weekend’s stay. I loved it. So I started doing them all the time. I loved all the places to stop. I loved all the pictures I could take. I’d stop at those stands . . . Have you been on the 5 from Los Angeles to the Bay Area?”
“Yes. I know which ones you mean.”
“So I’d stop there and buy stuff and then when I got to San Francisco I’d have food for a while. I’d wander down to whatever part of the city I was staying in and I’d eat locally. And then I met Brody and Erin and I decided to road trip up to Seattle. Brody and I . . . well, you know. Anyway, I managed to house-sit and live in places before escrow closed and after the owners had moved out. Always in my own place. But I liked it up there.”
“What did you think when you flew the first time?”
“I’m not a fan of airplanes. Enclosed spaces for really long periods of time when I can’t stop and stretch my legs or whatever, it makes me nervous. Plus you know they’re always watching you and so I have to be so careful and it takes the fun out of it. But I have to get on planes to go to Hawaii, so I deal. I just remember seeing all these families and wondering if they realized how awesome it was that they were giving their kids memories.”
“Clearly you’ve never been on a road trip with a kid in the car.” He chuckled.
“Oh, I know it’s a pain sometimes and there’s a lot of ‘are we there yet’ and stuff. But every time you go on vacation you’re putting your energy onto your family or the people you travel with. You’re stepping from your everyday life with these other people. Like now. I mean, this isn’t a vacation, but I’m going to remember the time I’ve spent here with you. The way you look when you wake up in the mornings. How you talk to waitresses at diners. You’re a flirt.”
“Hey, my flirting got you pie when they thought they were out.”
“That’s true. You do make the ladies go googly-eyed. Anyway, travel is my way of saying a big old f**k-you to my childhood and all the people in that town who told me over and over again I’d never be anything.”
She’d wondered for most of her life why they’d all treated her the way they had. What she’d done to them to engender such nastiness. She told herself it didn’t matter, and by that point it didn’t because she’d made something out of herself. Maybe because they were so shitty to her and she had to make a point.
Travel taught you things. Travel exposed you to new people and other perspectives. It broadened your life and helped you cope when things got complicated. It was one of her favorite things.
“Only now you don’t travel to run away.”
She paused for a long time, thinking about it. She’d wanted to deny it immediately. But really, he was right. Her lifestyle had been one of never staying in one place for very long. It had kept her from putting down roots and from getting run over by people.
“You’re very smart.”
“I am. I’m also really good at eating pu**y.”
She laughed, reaching out to run her hand down his arm. To reassure herself that he was really there. That he’d come for her. Because he loved her.
They stopped for lunch an hour or so out of Happy Bend and he noticed she only picked at her food. He’d considered suggesting she just leave it all alone. After all, she had a good life now. She knew where her mother was. What did it matter that her aunt had lied?
But it did matter and he understood that she needed the closure. She had a lot of rage inside. She’d dealt with a lot of the hurt and disappointment. Though he supported her getting therapy when they returned to process more. But the anger? He knew it was there. The questions regarding why they’d not only lied, but why they’d been so harsh with how they’d done it. All that remained and she needed to be an adult woman confronting her aunt about it.
“You’re going to . . . The town isn’t like a television small town.” She’d gotten very quiet when they’d approached Happy Bend.
“I’m going to what?”
