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¨Yup,¨ l laugh.
¨You have your seatbelt on?¨
¨Always.¨
¨ That’s my girl. I’m so looking forward to seeing you. Spending time with you.¨
¨And answering all the questions your crazy reporter granddaughter has for you?¨ I tease.
I feel like I can hear her smile on the other end. I can definitely imagine it.
¨Yes, and that. Therealreason why you’re visiting me.¨
¨Nonna!¨
“I’m teasing. I know. You remind me of me. You like to go after your goals, Ms. Big Time Reporter Writer, you, or…whatever you are.¨
¨All of the above.¨
¨Well, do me a favor. When you get to the location, call me.¨
¨Absolutely, love you. Bye.¨
I should’ve booked the flight for tomorrow evening. I remember thinking I didn’t have to come this early but wanted to take the scenic route during the day. I’m trying my best to savor what I can from this experience. My idea about writing my grandmother’s soon-to-be most anticipated memoir for next year requires me to engross myself in her world. And what better way to do that than coming to Evergreen and drinking the water she drank as a little girl and observing all the plentiful greens that Evergreen has to offer. But I’m not yet there, and by the lighting I see ahead, I hate to say it’s best to get off at the next exit.
I grip the steering wheel tighter and inch my body closer to it. This gives me a stronger sense of security that helps for the next couple of miles. Honestly, I prefer to get as close to Evergreen as possible. Sure, the wind is picking up, and I’m driving slower than I ever imagined I would be on an expressway, but at least the lack of vehicles reassures me I’m the only idiot on the road to look for. I bite my lip and continue to push through. The four o’clock hour grows gloomier as I spot darkening clouds ahead, but I am grateful I don’t see any tornado sightings. I’m not sure what I should look for when it comes to those, but I’ve felt the earth beneath me shake before. I probably should call Grandma to ask her what it looks like, but she’ll probably stay on the phone until I inch my way off the expressway.
I’m about fifteen miles from Evergreen, and I have a steady stream of classical music humming through my speakers, blanketing my nerves with a sense of earnest determination. Mind over matter, right? Too bad I can’t shield my nerves from the heckling sound of a thundercloud that feels like it’s in the backseat. I press the volume button on the steering wheel several times and decide to pair deep breathing with the music.
When I was in college, I took a meditation class online to help with my anxiety. One trick I’ve held onto is placing my intent outside my surroundings when I’m uncomfortable. I have to pull at each of my five senses to help mentally transform myself from my literal spot to my desired location.
As I inch down the expressway at a lousy thirty-five MPH speed limit, I focus on the smell of my grandmother’s cherry pie. She loves cherry pies and loves baking them. I then feel the weight of her dainty hand on my shoulder and the warmth of her home, snuggling my aura. Alongside this, I picture her opening her front door and leading me into her midwestern colonial-style home with the sounds of Sinatra in the backdrop. Her movie posters, framed in top-tier golden frames, line both sides of her narrow hallway. I get goosebumps as I imagine myself standing over her kitchen table. I pick up a silver fork, and with its side, I slice a piece of pie off a plate and slide it into my mouth. A tart sweetness gives me pleasure as I feel like I’ve finally made it. I have arrived at Nonna’s house.
In actuality, the GPS reads I am five miles from Evergreen. Yes, but no. Fuck. Why do I hear a bellowing siren going off? I slow my speed even more. I lower my radio’s volume as if the persistent scary outdoor siren is going to give me any more wisdom than its demanding wail that’s pretty much telling me what Nonna was telling me to do miles ago— get off the road. I don’t need to die, wreck this rental Jeep, or get stranded on the shoulder of the road.
I switch to the right lane and merge onto a small exit. Exit 2b29, odd arrangement of numbers and letters. I’m not sure where this is taking me, but I trust the universe that something safe and warm can be found on the other side. Some shelter. Hell, the way this next thunderclap turns my body into a ball of stress, I’d take a sketchy gas station. The rain has relaxed, but I see an array of lighting bolts sizzle across the graying skies before me. I turn my music back up again as I reach the main road off the expressway.
There are two options, left or right. Each option is indicated by signs. On the left is a sign displaying a steamy cup of coffee. I assume that signals a coffee shop. The sign on the right shows a gas pump. Fresh coffee or lukewarm coffee? It really doesn’t matter, but my impulse is to go left. I can see myself being warmed by a real cup of Joe. And I’ll need the caffeine to hop back on the road. But as soon as I make a left, it is destined. A tree falls several feet behind me. Thud. I hear it through the cement. The car vibrates, and my heart leaps into my throat. I gag out of fear, clenching the wheel and pressing the brake lightly, but maybe I should be going faster. I scan the big beautiful trees that surround me, but they’re not so beautiful right now. No, any of them could fall, smash my front window, dent my car, or even kill me.
I should have listened to Grandma. Why did I push it? What the hell was I trying to prove to myself? This is scary. The trees are swaying,
a branch falls several feet in front of me.
“God help!” I move around it.
¨Where the hell are you, coffee cup?” I grunt aloud. I’m starting to sweat now.
Let me be protected.
Yes! I see a wooden sign. It’s carved expertly and displays the words “Side Of Road Abode.”Interesting name but no time to ponder on that. I inch further in. Rain pours down, and the Jeep shakes from the wind as yet another lighting strike scatters across the sky, wild and wide like a constellation. I quiver as I see through my rearview mirror that yet another tree has fallen behind me. Larger. Large enough to prevent me from finding a way back. Tears swell in my eyes as I have no idea if this exit has any roads that will lead me to Evergreen. Or am I stuck at whatever or wherever “Side of Road Abode”is?
The Jeep’s automatic headlights click on as soon as I spot the coffee house, which legit looks like a house. A big two-story ranch-style house with an extended attached front porch. A swinging lamp hangs above the door, and lights inside flicker on and off as if the power is bound to go out. For what it’s worth, I honk my horn once I spot a truck parked to the side. I slow my car down as I pull into a parking spot. This place has to be open, or if not, now they were prepared to be open. I was hoping for a Starbucks or some knockoff version, not a huge house turned into a coffee shop.
I spot a young boy peering out a second-floor window. He quickly vanishes as if scolded from the inside. And almost like magic, swift enough to send a shrill of shockwaves down my spine, the front door of the house swings open, and out steps a tall, muscular man.
He speeds to my car door, beckoning me out with a glare and a stern wave. I have no choice but to obey. Out of nowhere, he opens a wide umbrella. I snatch my purse as I open the Jeep’s door. With the umbrella above me, I latch my hand onto his forearm. I brace myself onto him, close to him; I smell freshly roasted coffee beans and the light presence of rain and musk.
“Come.” His command is strong, his voice low and baritone.
