Wolfgang left around seven Sunday evening, and after getting no sleep, I did the most spontaneous thing I’ve done in nearly a decade. I booked a ticket to California and left for the airport Monday morning, leaving my most frequently used cards on my kitchen table, along with my phone and keys. It’ll look like I’m working from home for a few days and at least give me some breathing room.
I haven’t used the card for the one company I have separate from my family’s business, so this will be the perfect opportunity to go under the radar.
Where is the last place my family would ever look for me?
Penrose Beach, California. Not that they would know where it is. I didn’t either until I looked up flights.
At least, that was my first thought when trying to find a remote destination.
I’m crammed into a small, compact car I struggled to rent because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. Why are there so many options these days? I need to give my assistant a raise after this for all he takes off my plate.
Did I think through all my plans before getting on a plane for the opposite coast?
No. No, I didn’t.
It wasn’t the smartest thing, but I panicked, okay? It’s been way too long since I’ve booked my own travel, and if I were on a bike, I would’ve crashed at least three times in my attempts to ride again.
“This is what we Bauer men do, son.”Wolfgang’s words are on loop in my brain.“We marry the right person and go on with our lives.”
Maybe I don’t believe in the Hollywood version of love, but his version makes it seem like just another contractual agreement I’d have to sign. That’s at least thirty percent of my job, as I work seventy to eighty hours each week. I don’t want my personal life to be more of the same.
My parents mean well, I think. Then again, they’ve been enjoying the newfound wealth our company has brought to the family since I came back from college.
Now that I’ve broken records and levels they believed were the limit, they’re ready for grandchildren and everything that comes with it. Would I mind being a father? No. But there’s no way I could do that while keeping up the schedule I’ve had for this long.
How many games and events did Wolfgang miss because he was working or had a last-minute meeting? I can still remember every time I held out a little hope he’d be there justto have it put out again.
The ones who were at everything, showing love, support, and every kind of human connection, were my mother’s parents. They would show up even for the one-liner I had in the school production. The celebratory art display.
I don’t think I’ve had that kind of support since they passed.
Now people want to hang out with me for what they could possibly get from me. It feels a lot like dogs waiting around for crumbs. I don’t want anyone to feel like that. I’d prefer they hang out with me because they enjoy my company and not what’s in my wallet.
And so, the idea to run away was born.
Yeah, that sounds ridiculous. Like I came home, got put in timeout or didn’t get my favorite snack, and then I packed my bags and left. But it was the only way to get any relief from the constant barrage of emails and phone calls. The mounting pressure from all sides.
I’m not the most skilled at this sort of stealth thing, but I bought a burner phone just in case I need to contact someone at some point. Even thinking this makes it sound like I’m hiding from the law. In this case, “the law” would be my father.
Traveling without a phone would be hard enough, and I didn’t want to risk not having a map to get to the beach. Typical directions like north and south don’t jive well in my brain.
Just a few days at the beach might help clear my head and give me a better path forward so I’ll know what I should do.
Sick of rehashing my father’s words, I turn on the radio and try to sing along.
“Livin’ on a Prayer” comes on, which seems very fitting for my current situation.
I glance at the directions on the phone. I’m halfway there from the airport.
“Take my hand, we’ll make it I swear,” I sing loud and off-key. I look at the dashboard and notice the gas light is on. Aren’t these supposed to come prefilled when you rent them?
I turn down the music and reach over to search the map app for a gas station on the way, when I hear the slowthunk, thunkof the engine dying.
Apparently, even the meter is wrong.
I groan. At least I went the burner-phone route.
I put the car in neutral and steer it off to the side of the road. It’s not like there’s a ton of traffic right now in late April, and to be honest, the weather is a little cold for a beach this time of year.
