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What?
Did I just say I’d come?
“Thank you, Jesus.” He breathes out, and I get this wave of heat from my head to my toes. “I’ll text you the itinerary and the link to your e-tickets and the hotel info. I’ll have a car waiting for you and let me know as soon as you land. I’ll do everything I can to squeeze in as much time as possible with you around whatever this work situation is.”
“Okay.” I’m biting my bottom lip and waving a spread fingered hand in front of my face, still unsure what I’m doing and whether this is real, or I’m currently passed out from eating too much ice cream. “I can always work from there too. I’ll bring my laptop, so when you’re busy, I’ll be working.”
“Perfect.”
“You know it’s going to cost a ton to fly me out on such short notice…”
“I’ve never spent my money in a better way. Oh, and they are working on the Jeep. My contact, the restorer, said he will have it in like new condition when it’s back to you.”
“Thank you. But that’s really not necessary either. You know I do have my own means.”
“I know you do, makes this so much more satisfying to do for you. I want to, Issi, not because you can’t but because I want to.”
We say our goodbyes, and I stand looking out the window, wondering just what the hell I’m getting myself into.
Twelve
Van
I TAKE A DEEP BREATH and try to get my shit together. Her voice still rings in my ears, agreeing to let me come to the hotel to see her—even though it’s three o’clock in the morning.
She sounded sweet, anxious but excited, and somewhere inside me I know this is just the beginning.
Issi belongs to me already. I don’t know how, or where this is going, but I do know it’s going somewhere. I just have to figure out where.
She’s smart, cautious, and I can sense it in the tone of her voice, just a little higher than usual, that coming here like this is way outside of her comfort zone. But she did it for me because she knows I don’t know any other way. I’m a rambler, a man on the road most of my time, without roots or a place that feels like home.
Sure, I have a house. I have George and Kara. I have people that help me run my life. But it hasn’t ever felt right. Fuck, hotels and sleeping in my truck feel as much like home as my house.
But now, with Issi, I can feel what home might mean.
When I spent time talking with her earlier yesterday, she showed me so much of who she is.
When she talked about growing up, about being the smart kid from the wrong side of the tracks at a school like Cranbrook, then Yale, I could see in her eyes the way it had formed her into this wildly determined woman who’d taken her God-given abilities and made sure she could take care of herself.
The thing is, I want to take care of her. She’s a survivor. From our conversations about her mom, she’s a good-hearted person, but Issi was the responsible one for most of her youth. She did the banking, kept things organized, kept her mom on the rails as best as possible.
One thing she didn’t learn is to cook. I gather their three main food groups were Doritos, Twizzlers and Ho-Ho’s.
Oh, and not to forget M&M’s. So, I guess that makes four.
I park my truck, knowing I have to be back to the rig site in seven hours to prepare for a meeting with the EPA guys. The H2S leak that was a result of our drilling killed nearly one hundred head of cattle and two hundred sheep on the farmer’s property where we are drilling.
The hydrogen sulfide escaped, the crew detected it just in time to get their own gas masks on but didn’t get it capped in time to avoid the disaster. We’re not talking about a massive leak here, but some escaped and it hit the livestock before enough air could dissipate it, and that shit will kill you in one breath.
I’m just relieved as hell it wasn’t worse. Didn’t get to the farmer’s house or, God forbid, there was a bigger release that might hit the nearest town.
Outside her hotel room door, I pull myself together best I can on a deep breath and knock.
The door opens a few seconds later, and her eyes light up my soul.
“Hi there, stranger. What would our parents say? Us meeting like this in a hotel in the middle of the night?” She swings open the door, and I see she’s wearing a loose pair of turquoise flannel pajama bottoms and a white tank top with ‘Lucky’ emblazoned over her chest in bright pink.
