Page 31 of Hauling Ashe

“You’re really beautiful, sunshine.” His voice drops as he speaks, continuing to stare at the drawing captured on the screen.

“Thank you.” My throat thickens and my voice cracks.

I’m not ever called beautiful as a compliment, and compliments in general make me slightly uncomfortable. Tucker sounds genuine enough in his statement, but I don’t know how to accept it. I haven’t felt beautiful in a long time and I’m not being self-deprecating. I’m being honest with myself at my age after living with a man who hadn’t loved me for years. It’s difficult to feel beautiful in such a situation.

As if Tucker knows this, he lifts his hand and brushes back hair loosened from my ponytail. His fingers linger around my ear and down the side of my neck as they did earlier today. Was that only this morning? When I was driving, I thought he might keep his hand on my skin, cup the back of my neck, or hold on to my shoulder, but he slowly released me then as he does now.

As we stand by the mural, a man with a guitar saunters over and begins singing the iconic “Get Your Kicks (on Route 66).” Tucker slips my phone into his pocket, grabs my hand, tugs me to him, and wraps his arm around my back. Swaying us left then right, he rocks to the music, and I laugh. I can’t dance, and I struggle to keep up with his lead. My laughter only adds to my lack of rhythm, but Tucker doesn’t give up. He presses me outward and pulls me back. We sway again before he twirls me, and I twist away from him. Snapping my arm, he tugs me back and I roll into his chest. In broad daylight, we dance in a parking lot to this street musician.

And I’ve never laughed so hard or felt so beautiful.

15

KANSAS – Still Day 2

Playlist: “Home” – Phillip Phillips

[Mae]

After Joplin, we exit Missouri and it’s straight on to Galena, Kansas. The path through the sunflower state is the briefest, only fourteen miles and roughly thirty minutes. Being such a short distance, and the fact it’s late in the day, Tucker asks if we can shoot for Oklahoma before we stop for the night.

When I agree, Cars on the Route is the next attraction on my list of must-sees. The white stucco structure with a bright red logo was a former Kan-O-Tex service station. The place has held many names, but its present name is a tribute to the Disney movie Cars, a favorite of my sons when they were younger. I’d be in denial if I said that animated film wasn’t part of my inspiration to travel this old road through forgotten towns. Unfortunately, the location is closed but still a fun stop with more photo ops and I send a few images to my boys.

Neither Owen nor Wyatt responds, and I hope this means they are working hard at Mae’s Flowers.

Only a few minutes down the road, we stop again at Eisler Bros. Old Riverton Store. This squatty building with red cedar siding is also on the National Registry of Landmarks and a quaint spot featuring a deli, souvenirs, and a variety of garden flowers and hanging pots. The sight of such items has my heart longing for my garden center, which is ten times bigger than this location. I promised Pam I wouldn’t let guilt nibble at me, but it takes a bite at this roadside attraction.

Had it been selfish to travel alone? Should I have invited my sons?

I stare at a small collection of bright red geraniums warring with myself.

“You want a plant?” Tucker asks over my shoulder, curious about my staring at the terra cotta pots filled with the cheery reminder of home.

“Just a little homesick, I guess.” I shrug because it sounds silly. This trip is something I wanted for me, but I suddenly miss my boys and my shop. To my surprise, Tucker runs a hand up my spine and squeezes the back of my neck.

“Maybe we should stop soon?” We already agreed to keep going, though.

“No, we can press on until Oklahoma.” He needs to get to California. He’s opened up a little bit more about his daughter’s wedding. She’s marrying someone he’s only met twice.

“Don’t you want to know more about the man dedicating his life to your daughter?”

“I trust my daughter’s decision. She’s grown into a smart woman with a good head on her shoulders. And a big heart. Plus, I’ve met him. There’s no doubt when I look at him. He worships my Julia.”

I remember once thinking I was a smart woman with a big heart. How foolish I’d felt once I’d learned how duped I’d been by Adam. Pam would tell me it wasn’t my head I overruled but my gut. My instincts told me something wasn’t right with my marriage, but I ignored the hint, or avoided the signs. I was so focused on the flower shop and my growing children, I dismissed what my heart suggested. My husband no longer loved me. Honestly, I no longer loved him either.

We’d been young and so in love, and everything happened quickly. College graduation. Marriage. Babies. And then the flower shop. That generous gift from his parents.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” I tell Tucker, just needing a minute to collect myself.

“I’ll do the same and meet you at the car.”

Once I handle my business, I stand beside Louie waiting for Tucker. After he exits the store, he picks up a potted red geranium and walks up to me.

“Did you just steal that?”

“I’m a terrible thief if I did,” he jokes. He cracks his throat like a police monitor and throws his voice. “Officer in hot pursuit of a potted plant poacher. Man wanted to give a beautiful woman some flowers.”

I look at him as he hands me the pot.