Chapter 2: Chapter One: The Open Road
There's just something about the open road. I fucking love it. The landscapes, the speeding cars, the semi-trucks that should really stick to the slow lane, the gas stations that are more the plot of a horror movie than anything else…everything that should make me hate driving long distance, I can't get enough of.
What makes it even better? My 2-year-old, Zeke, feels the exact same way as I do. At least, that's what I tell myself. He can't exactly voice his emotions over road trips. He's non-verbal.
Which is typical with Autistic children.
I hang up the gas nozzle and grab the receipt that I know I'm just going to toss on the floor of the front passenger side. I can't get back in my car fast enough. I tend to stop at sketchy places and this station is no exception. There are two bikers by the entrance to the little convenience store and they're eyeing me down like a cheap hooker on the corner. If they saw Zeke in my backseat, I have no clue, but they are determined and I'm not going to stick around long enough for them to get a hold of their cajones and come over to hit on me.
"Okay, Zekey," I say, turning the key in the ignition and pulling away from the gas pump. "Time to get back on that old interstate, baby."
I look at him through my rearview and smile. He doesn't return the gesture but stares at me, all the same. I tell myself that he understood what I told him. He most likely didn't.
"This time, everything is going to be so much better." I tell my son, as if he's actually going to respond. "I know I said this about the last place but I just know that where we are headed is where we're meant to be."
I fucking hope so.
Florida was supposed to be our fresh start. Newly divorced me honestly believed that. I was going there to stay with a friend who swore they would help me get on my feet again. Huge fucking mistake.
I think we were there a total of 4 months, maybe 5, before we were out on the streets again.
But, this time, I had a back-up plan, of sorts.
A week before I made the decision to move in with that friend, I received a job offer. It wasn't the best career. It was a hardly a career, actually. But it was so much more than what I had waiting for me in Florida.
I married PJ. I wasn't exactly known for making the best choices. Especially when it came to my life.
The day we were kicked out, I dialed up the number I had stored in my phone, in case of emergency.
"Hey, Fee?" the tears escaped the minute my sister answered her phone.
"Oh, Maxie, what's wrong? Is it Zeke?" the worry in her tone warmed my heart.
I shook my head, although she couldn't see me. "Zeke is fine. But," I sniffed. "Is that offer still on the table?"
"Of course, sis! When are you thinking of coming?" I could tell she was excited about the prospect of me moving closer to her. But, I was notorious for changing my mind.
"See, the thing is, we no longer have a home…." I whispered, unsure of how she would take that.
"Are you already on the road?" she asked me, no judgement at all. Just the way I remembered my baby sister being.
I smiled. "Just entered Alabama. Should be there in like two days."
She shrieked, excitedly. "Okay! Do you need some gas money? Want me to book you some hotels? What about your living arrangements? Of course, you can stay here! Layla will be psyched to see you and Zekey!"
"I'm good with money, Fee." I laughed at her enthusiasm. "And, I'm going to drive as far as I can before I think about hotels."
"Please stop if you need to, Max. I don't want anything happening to my big sister and my little nephew." She sighed, knowing I was going to ignore her. It was like if someone told me to do something, I had to do the opposite. Must be the stubborn, rebellious child deep inside me.
"I will, I will." I assured her, my eyes on the road ahead of me. "Are you sure Layla will be okay with us crashing there?"
My oldest sister was one of my biggest role models. She thrived in career as a detective and had the sweetest family ever. After our parents split, she took our little sister in and became pseudo mom to her as well. I looked up to her and felt like I somehow let her down with my failed marriage and inability to hold down any kind of home.
"Of course, she's okay with it!" Fiona said and before I could reply, Layla chimed in as well.
"Don't even think about going anywhere else, Maxie! We all want you here so get your ass here!"
After hearing that, I started to sob. They just listened and when I was finished, I had a game plan.
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Brooke_Michelle
Brooke_Michelle I know my writing style is kind of raw and imperfect...but that's the point. When you read this, I want you to hear it in your head as if I'm telling it to you, in person. This isn't easy for me to get out. I've had to peel back layers and scratch open wounds that haven't even fully healed yet. Parts of my story are fictual. But parts are as true as the Earth is round.
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