The Drive

Hands gripped the steering wheel. Eyes scanned the road. Breathing quickened, and the use of profanities increased. She was supposed to be there 30 minutes ago. Work ran late because Chuck forgot to submit the quarterly reports on time. Rushed, she settled for a blotchy face of make-up and uncombed hair. Cruising down the country roads to her partner’s parents’ vacation cabin, she took a wrong turn and had been wandering since.

She turned off the radio. Not even music could soothe her. The only thing she needed she could not find: a sign for Route 130. Cellular service diminished, and no atlas could be found despite shuffling through the glove box.

She was crying when her partner called. She sniffled, attempting to suck up all the tears and runny-nose juices. With a shaky hand, she answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey, babe. Where are you?”

“Lost.” One word was all she could manage in between gasps for air.

“Where are you? What’s around you?”

She whipped her face back and forth, looking for anything unique across this flat land. Acres of snowed-on fields. She thanked the gods for not making her drive in that. She saw a tree. “A tree,” she started, managing two syllables. “Fields, snow,” she added, with newfound strength.

“How about any signs?”

She searched for any sign. Rectangular, octagonal, circular, any shape. Red, yellow, orange, green, any color. Numbers, letters, any symbol. She squinted to see something up ahead, brown but not like the trees surrounding her. She straightened her back.

“McClary’s Farm.”

“Mom,” they beckoned on the other end of the line as their girlfriend debated whether to stop for her next direction. She could’ve been going the right direction, or she could’ve been making it worse for herself. Better safe than sorry.

She pulled over, the snow crunching underneath her tires. The rumbling of the engine was the only white noise. As they discussed the best route available, she started crying again. She muffled herself, careful not to interrupt. She dreamed of a helicopter coming to save her. Its spotlight focused on her. A strong voice projected over the vast land. She left her car behind and reached out for the rope ladder, twelve steps away from safety. She’d be whisked away to her partner’s house, only having missed the pre-dinner chit-chat.

“Babe.” She snapped back to her claustrophobic nightmare. While being fed directions, she nodded along and threw in the occasional “Yeah.” The sky grew more gray. She turned up the car’s heat.

“Will you stay on the phone with me?” She asked, after wiping the last tear she wished to cry this evening. For the next 40 minutes, she followed their directions, her hands straining the wheel. Until the fateful moment of arriving at their driveway, she would not let up.

Who volunteers to live this far away from a grocery store? Who hosts a family gathering where everyone’s minimum driving time is more than 50 minutes? Who drives alone without an atlas? Who trusts their partner to travel alone to somewhere they’ve never been?

Putting her whole trust into someone she’d only known for five months and a family she had yet to meet before, she pondered going home. But she didn’t know how. She had plenty of destinations in mind. Her bed. The beaches of Maui. A penthouse suite in New York. A cottage outside Dublin. A hostel in Tokyo. This was not the kind of adventure she envisioned for herself.

She’d enter their home, greet everyone between their bites of apple pie, stand next to the microwave, wait on her plate of food, and stare at those conversing. Yes, she would be safe and warm, but she’d be bored and misplaced. 

Their relationship was making less and less sense to her. With her lights on, the road looked more lonely, desolate. Her windows began to fog, so she turned on her defrosters. The gentle hum kept her company, comforting her as she took order after order. She was an exemplary student, always following the rules. She was never late, until now.

She won’t break up with them tonight. It was a holiday. Family was there. They helped get her there. They saved her, but not everyone needed to marry the firefighter who rescued them. Although they helped her get out of the burning building, they did not deserve all her love. A pinch or two of appreciation would do.

As the light snow flurries began to fall, she arrived at her destination. After a quick make-up review in her rearview mirror, she got out of the car. Exercising great caution, she staggered across a driveway unknown to her in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. She knocked on the door and stood underneath the porch light, the only light for miles.

As the door swung open, she was met with smiling faces and a wave of heat. As she hugged her partner’s family for the first time, she heard a fire crackling. With her coat taken away and boots pulled off, she followed the herd into the kitchen. Between the mother asking what she liked and the father asking what she did for a living, she didn’t have room to think. Fielding small talk was the last thing her spent mind wanted. Instead, she excused herself to the restroom. 

Unlike the drive here, she managed to find it on her own. Once she locked the door behind her, she exhaled and placed her forehead on the piece of wood holding her head up. She closed her eyes and continued to breathe, mindful to slow her lungs down. Breathing in, she’d take in the vanilla hand soap. Breathing out one last time, she opened her eyes and lifted her head.

She relieved herself of all the pent-up urine and frustration. Once finished, she washed her hands and studied her reflection. The bags under her eyes were bigger than normal, and her cheeks and nose were rosy. The bags were more true to her current reality.

Approaching the end of an acceptable length of time to spend in the bathroom, she rolled her shoulders a few times, told her reflection she would be okay, and opened the door.