Southbound

“Remember that first time we went bowling?” Lucy asked. She glanced at Garrett in her passenger's seat. He was staring out the windshield, head lolling from side to side. It was the first she’d spoken since getting on the road, aside from a few muttered swears getting through the Lincoln Tunnel. They were passing exit 9 on the New Jersey Turnpike, and it looked like traffic was loosening up. “It was like almost every trick shot you bowled took down more pins than your legit bowls. I almost peed my pants when you dove down the lane after the ball.” She laughed at the memory and glanced again at Garrett. She noticed a little drool from the right corner of his mouth and dabbed at it. She went on, swallowing the implication. “When the manager came over I thought he was going to kick me out for drinking. But he was just pissed at you. I bet he knew you were going to steal the shoes.” 

She set cruise control at 77 mph and flexed her foot. “This is going to be a long drive. I’ll probably have to stop at least twice to get out and stretch.” Garrett’s head turned to look out the window. There wasn’t anything to see, really, and she wondered what he was taking in anyway. “Sorry. I guess you would like that, too, babe.” Her voice caught on the nickname. She forced some cheer into her voice. “Well, I’m glad I get to make this drive with you. I didn’t want…” she couldn’t finish. She didn’t know how to finish. She didn’t know how to continue. She just tried not to cry. 

Passing the James Fenimore Cooper rest stop, she raised the satellite radio volume. A few songs lightened her mood, and then Garrett’s favorite cheesy song “To Be with You” started playing. She sang along, and Garrett’s face brightened. He started rocking in his seat a little. She heard him hum a little, or make some throat sound along with the song.

“You played this on our fourth date, I think. I didn't tell you, but I didn’t know that song. I went home and found it by that one lyric, ‘Waiting on a line of greens and blues’ which was the most confusing line in the song. I still don’t know what it means. But I listened to the song over and over until I knew it enough to sing along if it ever came up again.” Lucy thought for a moment. “It hasn’t. Till now.”

Lucy stopped at the South Maryland Welcome Center for a break, and she decided she would talk about the best moments of their one year and ten months together. She talked about the time she wanted to cook him dinner, but he didn’t have any pans and she didn’t have all the ingredients so they made some lime chicken onion disaster and insisted on eating it anyway. And how a few months later, Garrett found the recipe again and made it the correct way, and it was better but still not very good. And how he decided that lime chicken was going to be their monthly anniversary meal, so they had better start digging up better recipes. Garrett oscillated merrily in his seat, looking dreamy-eyed. Lucy talked about the time she first saw him at the Blarney Stone. Through a sea of purple uniforms and lacrosse sticks, she locked on his blue eyes and he got right off his barstool and walked over. The timing was almost perfect, as most of her teammates except Shauna chose then to file out of the bar. Shauna was very rude and kept trying to insist Garrett was a creep, but she just faded into the background noise and eventually left the bar, saying, “Whatever. Text me if you get in trouble.”

She talked about Garrett sheepishly telling her that was the first time she saw him, but not the first time he saw her. She told the meeting story to a group of her classmates at a house party, and on the train back to his apartment he confessed that he’d seen her three months earlier when she was finishing her volunteer hours at a soup kitchen. That when she took off her hairnet and shook out her long curly red hair, he was mesmerized. “I wish I could remember that day. I wish I would have forgotten my hat or something so I would have turned around and saw you. We would have had a few more months together.” She choked back the end of that word, together. “We’re together now, though. Right now. And that’s important right now.” Her tone turned urgent to keep the tears back, and Garrett’s rocking slowed. His face clouded over.  

Lucy took a deep breath and started again. “The ride down is for happy thoughts. All the good stuff. That time you gave me the messenger bag. I liked that girl’s bag at the Hofstra game and you remembered and got it for me. You were always listening to those little details. You always remembered. It was like, the exact same bag I loved. I don’t know how you found it.” She thought for a moment. Now she recalled his face when he gave her the bag and Lucy fussed over it. He was glad she loved it, but there was also a little bit of a smirk. “Wait, did you… Did you steal that bag?” 

Without her consent, Lucy’s mind wandered to a few other moments in their relationship. There was that time they got mugged in Bushwick, leaving an art show featuring Garrett’s friend Anthony’s work. Lucy was terrified, but Garrett seemed resigned and angry. After the guy took their wallets and phones, they walked to an all night diner. He told her it was like his third time being held up since moving to the City, and he was tired of it. He clenched his jaw and got angrier until he abruptly stood up and walked out. When Lucy turned, he clamped a hand on her shoulder and said “Stay here” in a cold, almost menacing tone. Lucy couldn’t speak. She just sat frozen until Garrett came back less than ten minutes later, light and smiling, ordered them both coffee and pie, which Lucy didn’t touch, and paid, using his own wallet. His knuckles were red and two were cracked open, and she watched as they purpled over the rest of the week. She found her phone in her purse the next morning.

She thought of another time at a house party Garrett’s coworker invited them to. It was a beautiful airy loft with neutral tones, sharp edges, white walls and green plants. It looked like a magazine cover. But seeing this place, and Garrett walking in like he’d been here before and was completely comfortable, Lucy had never felt so much like a kid in her $12 sundress. Although he was just four years older, Lucy realized Garrett was a real adult and so were his friends. She also realized that Garrett had a real job, and it could be possible for him to have a place that looked like this. With her public health degree next spring, Lucy would probably have to move far from the City and commute, or maybe even work in a different city, or go to graduate school, or any other thing than live in a perfectly sparse and neutral Upper East Side apartment. Panic must have shown on her face, but when Garrett looked to her, his smile hardened and he turned back to his friends and maybe rolled his eyes. Lucy sat on the white couch most of the night acting pleasant while Garrett talked to the pretty blond host far later than most other guests. 

 There was the time Garrett had borrowed a car to drive them to Boston for the weekend, and he took her hand and pulled her into and through every bar and shop they entered. She thought he was just excited to show her everything. But when they came out to their car to drive to Salem and all four tires were flat, Garrett’s face went pale and he pulled her back inside to call AAA and change their plan. He never explained that, either.  

“Less than four more hours to go!” Lucy bounced into the car with renewed enthusiasm. She had an armload of sugary snacks and fruit juices from the Richmond convenience store. “I couldn’t help it! They all looked so good, and they reminded me of that night you brought over like 16 different kinds of candy so we could make a March Madness bracket to vote on the best one, and then it turned into the best flavor of the best type. Remember? There was a lot of arguing and a lot of cleanup. My roommate Brooke tried to get mad at us but then you made her our tiebreaker.” She placed a straw in one of the juices and guided Garrett to it to get him to drink. After a few seconds he managed it. “I still maintain that an orange Sour Patch Kid beats a pink Starburst any day.” She slowly pulled the straw away and tipped his chin up slightly, like the attending nurse had shown her to do. Garrett swallowed and sputtered a little, but seemed pleased. 

She took a sip herself. “Mmm, this makes me think of you trashing my kitchen with all those frozen drink experiments. Your Fruity Boozy Smoothies, I think you called them. ‘Do you love it or what?’ you’d ask, and mostly, no, I did not love them.” She giggled a little and brought the straw back to Garrett’s mouth. “I had a headache for like three days after each of those nights. But they were very, very fun once I got you away from that blender.” Her voice dropped as she recounted Brooke finding Lucy and Garrett on the couch in the morning, surrounded by piles of clothes and a dozen plastic cups still partly filled with melted smoothies, rum separated and floating on top. She thought of Garrett making Brooke laugh it off and not stay mad. “You offered to make her a Fruity Boozy Smoothie, too,” she said. “And she laughed and pushed you away, and you kept your hand on her shoulder, and you said ‘maybe another night,’ and you still kept your hand on her shoulder. She didn’t say no again. She left.” Lucy brought her mind back to the present and forced a laugh, and he laughed, releasing a mouthful of pink juice onto his shirt. 

“Oh, dammit,” she said, trying to mop him dry with rough napkins. He made a honking sort of sound, and repeated it. It startled Lucy, but his eyes looked bright and alive. This was the closest she’d been to him since before, and she still found him handsome. She kissed him on the nose and flipped back into her seat, ready to get back on the road. 

“I liked your mom,” Lucy said, taking the exit for 85 South, remembering meeting Garrett’s parents for the first time in the hospital waiting room, then another time in the hospital hallway, and again in another wing of the hospital. “She’s pretty devastated, of course,” Lucy snuck a glance at Garrett. He was facing her, tilting a little toward her in his seat, still smiling. She couldn’t help but smile back. His face looked so young and innocent. Nothing to add distress to his features, to furrow his brow, to draw down the left corner of his mouth like it would when he was really stuck on a project. But here, his expression was just joy and openness as he looked at her. 

She turned her gaze back to the drive. “We went to lunch. I guess a couple of times, if you count the coffee and stale croissants in the hospital. She told me about your star-quality dancing roles in your elementary school plays. Which, by the way, you have left out of your bio.” She looked back at him and smiled. He was still gazing at her. He had started to rock back and forth lightly and was wriggling closer to her. Lucy laughed and gently straightened him back out. “I feel like you want to show me some of those stage moves right now,” she giggled. “Maybe there is a video at your house you can show me.” She cleared her throat to stay focused.  

“I bet you were wonderful on stage. I bet people couldn’t take their eyes off you. I never could.” Lucy would sneak looks at him whenever they were out. He laughed so easily, and he talked with his hands, often clapping shoulders and shaking hands. She loved how his sharp jaw stood out, and how overhead lights could cast a shadow from his cheekbone onto his cheek. He was never self-conscious, but he always commanded the room’s attention. She always felt so lucky. She had an awful lot of chances to see him that way, she thought now. He spent a lot of their nights out talking to people in groups, and often at a distance.   

She drove across the North Carolina border. “Only a little more than two hours left. We are finally in your home state!” The tears shot to her eyes and a sob croaked out faster than she could stop it. She desperately tried to turn it into a laugh as she looked at him, and his smile was gone. He looked concerned, or worried somehow. How much did he understand?

“You’re going to stay with your mom and dad,” she said as positively as she could muster. “Asheboro is a much better place for you than the City. You have family and space and clean air. Plus, that hospital was expensive. And it just seemed sad.” Lucy could barely hold back her emotions now. “You didn’t belong there. There was no life there.” Another sob violently burst out of her. “No, no, I just mean…” she looked at him. He looked upset, looking straight ahead. “You didn’t belong there. Your parents love you and will look after you. Your mom knows how to help and you’ll have a nurse come in a few times a week to check on you. That’s more than I…” She couldn’t continue. She couldn’t face her decision. She knew it was the right one, she was sure of it. Everyone in her life agreed. Though everyone in her life also thought she should let the hospital arrange transport. Lucy insisted that it was the least she could do. 

“I’m sorry–” She meant to say that she was sorry for crying on their first and last road trip, but her voice held more than that. “I’m sorry,” she continued, trying to explain. She kept trying, but all that came out was “I’m sorry.”

For many miles she couldn’t say more. She tried, but a feeling of betrayal held her tongue. Her grief settled to anger. “What were you even doing all the way up there?” She demanded. “Why were you up near East Harlem? Why were you driving? What the hell happened?” She blinked hard to clear her blurred vision. “What were you doing? Where were you going? Who were you going to see?” She thought she would break her own jaw. She pulled a punch to the steering wheel as she tried to calm herself down. Crying was for the northbound leg, only. She needed not to look like an angry tomato when she pulled up to his parents’ house. “I wish you would have called me. I wish I could have talked to you. I wish you would have looked left again before that intersection.” She breathed deeply. “I wish I could have saved…” she looked at him. For the first time in nine hours of driving, Garrett was asleep. 

You have reached your destination.

Lucy pulled her mom’s Honda up the dirt driveway and parked under an enormous Live oak. Garrett’s parents opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. His mom waved to Lucy, then she hesitated her approach. Garrett’s dad stood still, hands in his pockets, a thin-lipped smile pulled tight. 

Lucy turned to her passenger. She rubbed his bicep gently to wake him up. In just these five weeks, his muscle had atrophied greatly. “Hey, babe. Let’s wake up. You’re home now.” She unclipped her seatbelt and hated the lift of relief as she opened her car door.