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“What don’t I know?”
She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “Do you remember the day we met? At the ATM. And you asked if I still wanted to use the machine, and I said no?”
“Vaguely.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to. It’s that Icouldn’t. The machine only had twenties, and I had twelve dollars in the bank. I was broke as a joke until a few months ago. I’ve lived in the dumpiest of dumps and eaten scraps from where I worked to survive. So forgive me if I’m insulted by your accusation.”
She snatched the key from his hand and let herself into the room.
“Don’t leave without telling me,” he said as she slammed the door in his face.
The room was crap, but it was still nicer than many places she’d stayed. She laid her laptop on the TV console, tore off the bedspread, and wadded it up in the corner. She used the restroom and splashed some water on her face. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her suitcase?
There was a general store just up the street where she could get what she needed. It crossed her mind to tell Noah, but it was only a block away, and this town was too small to find trouble.
She waited until the shower started in his next-door room and tiptoed out. She’d be back before he knew she was gone.
The warm summer breeze brushed her face. It was dusk, and the temperature was dropping along with the sun.
She bought the essentials: toothpaste, toothbrush, and deodorant. Just because she could live on nothing didn’t mean she was willing to stink while proving it. There wasn’t much in the way of clothing, but she found a T-shirt two sizes too big that would work as pajamas.
“Here you go, honey,” the clerk said, bagging her purchases. “You the one waitin’ on Bobby to get yer car?”
“Yes,” she said with a laugh. A true small town then.
“Well, if ya get stuck and need somethin’ to do, the county fair’s startin’ up tomorrow. It’s a big deal ‘round here.”
“Sounds fun. I’ll keep it in mind,” Daisy said, shoving the bag into her mondo purse. “Thank you.”
On the walk back, she peeked into the tavern. It was larger than she imagined. And nicer. The woodsy shiplap walls were covered with framed photos of Americana—small-town courthouses, baseball games, bottles of aged whiskey, old-timey police cars, and the like.
The bar itself, located on the back wall, was more modern. Neon signs advertising various beer brands surrounded a towering wall of shelved liquor. The twang of Hank Williams wafting from the jukebox lured her in. This would be the perfect backdrop for a video. Better than a dingy motel room anyway.
It was early, and there were only a few patrons. She grabbed a booth, made a few notes on the back of a paper menu, and then recorded the video with her phone propped up on the napkin holder.
She saved it, thinking of her promise to Noah to not post in real-time. Then again, who knew how long they would be stuck here? The only thing she’d posted today was a piece of pie, and if she had any shot at winning, she couldn’t afford to be AWOL for an entire day. If the video didn’t show what town they were in, that wouldn’t hurt, right? Still, she hesitated.
Business had picked up, and feeling guilty for hogging a whole booth, she moved to a stool at the bar.
“What’ll have, ma’am?” the bartender asked.
“White wine. Doesn’t matter what kind.”
“Comin’ up.”
After taking a picture and a long swig of Chardonnay, she posted a quick check-in, saying, “So far, so good on the road trip, and please vote for me.” She ensured the photo contained nothing to identify where she was, promised a video tomorrow, and hit “post.” She’d committed to no videos. A nondescript picture seemed harmless.
Daisy turned around on her barstool, crossed her legs, and sipped her wine. The jukebox hummed a Johnny Cash song, and she watched four men start a game of pool.
It was funny, she thought she’d miss France, but sitting here now, she realized it was America she’d missed. And, really, she could find adventure on any continent. Interesting people were everywhere, and here, she didn’t have to muddle through another language to talk to them.
She pulled her leather-bound travel journal out of her bag and jotted down some thoughts. The ratty old notebook had gone from diary to planner to dreamcatcher. If she managed to pull off a win, she’d leverage it to fully establish her business and make as much money as fast as possible. Then use that income for a house, a retirement plan, and as seed money for her new venture. Winning was essential for life’s next steps.
Just because she hadn’t gone to college like all her sisters didn’t mean she was stupid. Didn’t mean she hadn’t thought about the future. She knew this internet thing was temporary. New influencers came and went all the time. All it would take was a turn of the tide in what was popular, and she’d drop as quickly as she’d risen. Her main goal now was to figure out a way to launch her current fame into something more permanent. Something that would generate income for longer than a minute.
Writing a book was one way. She also wanted to talk to her dad about investing, but really, she liked the idea of helping people, maybe even being a life coach.
She put the notebook away and ordered a second glass of wine. Hanging out in the smelly motel room by herself held no appeal. Here, she could people-watch and think. Think about how Noah was sucking the fun out of her trip.
