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“My dad drove trucks.” I tell him, feeling like I’m tearing the plaster off a wound of my own in a way.
P.T. doesn’t say anything, he just listens.
Listens how I reminisce about playing in the rig on the few days my dad would have free. How it was all he knew and he only did it to provide for us, on account of my mom’s health. She was never well the whole time I remember her.
I don’t suppose I tell him much about me at all, but P.T. seems to get a lot more out of what I'm saying than I know.
“How’d it happen?” He asks. But I know he can guess.
“Crash- Dad and my mom…” I whisper. The words catching in my throat. The bright beams of another truck passing us, the rush of wind that makes our rig shake only adding to the effect of the memory. The words I could never say out loud until just now. And P.T.’s the only person I’ll ever talk to about it.
“…I was sent to live with my Aunt May after…” I murmur, sniffing back a lifetime of hurt I know I can't stop. That I couldn't stop until tonight. Until he picked me up and made me his very own.
P.T. pulls me closer as I start to sob. He’s not embarrassed for me or ashamed. And he says the only thing I guess I need to hear. Maybe even more than I love you.
“I got you…” He rumbles, “I got you…”
11
P.T.
There’s only one way to hold her closer than I am, and I can’t do it driving. Not after what she's just told me, but I’d half-guessed. Takes one lone bird to recognize another and Petra’s first thoughts weren’t about family or friends once I had grabbed her. And knowing for sure now that she’s got no one, I can’t think of anyone who needs a family of their own more than she does.
She cries herself to sleep and I only shift enough to reach for a blanket to cover her. Keeping her warm and most important, right up against me. Almost making me miss the trucking life already. Wondering what it could be like to have her with me every time.
Maybe even start my own legitimate trucking company…
No.
With her history and mine, a clean slate’s what we both need. No more driving to or from someplace. It’s time to settle and stay put. I shake off the idea of sitting behind the wheel for the rest of my days and start to think about how good it would feel with Petra curled up like this with me on a porch someplace. A dozen kids all running amok in a huge yard. A couple of dogs barking like lunatics.
All of us happy. The way life was meant to be.
Feeling her shift every now and then and hearing the little noises she makes in her sleep is enough to make it certain in my mind that this is all I’ll ever need. And every mile closer to the border is a gift with her so close. But once the gray light of dawn starts to replace the sharp, geometric edges of the freeway lights, I can’t help feeling a different kind of need.
An urgency.
To get this done, sure. But also the realistic understanding that I need to keep her safe. Not just from suits, but from any prying eyes including the border patrols and everyone I know I'll see from tonight onward.
I can't keep her locked up like I was for so long. But I can make sure that it’s me who’s watching over her, always.
When she does wake up, the sun’s peeking through some clouds and although there’s still evidence of the storm that’s crossed three states, it really does look and feel like a sign of better things to come for both of us.
“Morning…” I rasp. Blinking away the sting of a sleepless night from my own eyes as they focus on hers.
“Hi…” She squeaks, her mind processing everything that’s happened to get her where she is. And I guess there’s still that part of me, that cynical side that's waiting for her to see me in full daylight. To register just how insane all this is and want out. But she doesn't.
She stretches like a cat under the blanket and snuggles deeper into me. Clawing at me with a hug that’s the best good morning I think I’ve ever had from anyone. “We’ll be at the border soon,” I remark. Making her look up, almost confused by how cold it sounds. But if we’re gonna get through this I need to focus. I need to be the man I’ve been for years for just a few more hours yet.
“Is- Is everything okay?” She asks meekly, having her own version of the morning after snapshot. I can feel her hesitation, wondering if I’ve changed my mind. But there’s no need for either of us to think like that. Not anymore.
“Everything’s gonna be fine… But I’ll need you to hide yourself before we get there. I was just thinking about keeping things looking routine is all…” I explain half-heartedly. When all I want to do is pull over and give her the good morning I've had brewing in the front of my jeans since she first curled up next to me.
“Of course.” She agrees, already shifting herself to go someplace, making me chuckle. Making me lose my serious face and mood in a moment. “Not right this second…” I command her, gripping her harder and squeezing her, “…Plus I want my good morning kiss.” I add. Something both of us need more than anything.
She mews a little and craning up, she pecks my stubbled cheek. Making me grunt with approval but it’s not the kind of kiss I was talking about. I feel her fidgeting afterward and know the signs by heart.
“There’s a clean Ball jar back there,” I remark, jerking my head back towards the sleeper compartment.
