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“Don’t you have a gun in the shop?”
“Nah, man. Guns have never been my thing.”
“Looks like you need to start making them your thing. If those punks came into my shop, I’d be locked, loaded, and ready.”
I slam my beer on the table. "Nice seeing you, Mark. I got to run." I throw a twenty on the bar and leave without saying another word.
For three months, I've holed up in my apartment. Avoiding people meant I was able to avoid questions. Avoiding questions meant I was able to avoid the memories and guilt inside me. I figured if I disappeared for a while, people would let me forget Rome and go back to being Daniel.
Before heading back to my hotel, I stop by the corner liquor store and grab a bottle of tequila to drown every memory running into Mark will likely drudge up tonight.
Chapter Six
Andrea
I tossed and turned all night, Lindsay's words ringing in my ears. She was right: Sonoma is the only place I've ever lived. My family lives twenty minutes away in Napa. My friends are all close by. A beautiful home that always provided us with such security. Am I crazy for leaving everything I've ever known?
No.
For once in my life, I need to push the fear aside and go for it.
By nine-thirty, Lindsay's bouncing around my living room, ready and anxious to go. "I'm so excited to be heading into the city today," she exclaims as I come down the stairs to meet her.
"The city?" I'm confused by her comment.
"I figured it out last night. You're moving to San Francisco, aren’t; you? Still close to home but far enough away to start your own life. We’re looking at listings today with your sister, right?"
I bark out a laugh. “Even with selling this place and Jason's alimony, I can't afford to live in the city. But my plans are about the same size as a San Francisco apartment."
Lindsay’s eyes narrow as she frowns. "What the hell are you up to, Andi?"
"Come on. We're off to spend the day in Santa Rosa."
"What on earth is in Santa Rosa?"
"My new home." I can't hold back the ear-to-ear smile as I say those three little words.
“Santa Rosa?” She says the words slowly as she considers them. “I mean, there are certainly worse places to live, but… you don’t even want tolookin the city?”
“Come on. Trust me.”
Forty-five minutes later, my best friend's jaw hits the ground as we pull into the R.V. dealership. "Are youserious? These things are for horrible family vacations, not forlivingin. You hated going on vacation with Jason in the motorhome."
"I was crammed in a small space with a man who couldn't stand looking at me anymore and two teenagers who wanted to be anywhere but with their arguing parents."
"Good point."
"Growing up, the weekends I spent traveling with my dad were some of my life's best times. I need to feel that kind of happiness in my life again. I want to feel alive."
"And you plan on feeling alive in a tiny motorhome? Girl, are you having a midlife crisis?"
"My head's never been clearer," I say as I hop out of the car and make my way to the sales floor.
Lindsay and I are greeted by an overzealous salesman in a cheap suit. "Good afternoon, ladies. Welcome to Al's R.V. Depot" "Early Christmas shopping for the husbands?"
Lindsay’s head swivels slowly toward the man and she pins him with her gaze. “This establishment only sells RVs for men?"
"That's not what I meant. I just assumed—"
