Page 73 of Karter


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KARTER. I finished reading the article on the front page of the Local/State section. Another driver killed due to alcohol consumption. Each and every one is disappointing in a different way. I stared at the page and wondered how many would truly be prevented if people simply either didn’t drink or drank more responsibly.

I didn’t know that any one death is more important or holds any more value than another in the eyes of God. To me, this particular death provided an odd feeling of comfort. I sighed and turned the page to the obituaries.

As I scanned the listed deaths, Jak walked toward the kitchen. Before I could get up, he was already behind me. As he embraced me and kissed along my neck, he looked over my shoulder and down at the newspaper. He found it half morbid I read the obituaries every day, and had expressed it often. Some days, he asked if there was anyone important or interesting who had died. As I relaxed into his strong arms, his finger scanned the page of the paper. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn it stopped for a split second beside one of the names. I sighed and looked down.

His hand was gone.

Having already seen the article on the preceding page, I didn’t need to read any more. I focused on the name where I believed his finger had stopped.

Shelley Peterson, 39, Potwin Kansas

He stood up, cleared his throat, and walked to the window. He stood shirtless and stared through the glass and up toward the sky for a long moment. I poured a cup of coffee and walked his direction. A new abstract painting of the open road was half complete on the easel. I hoped Jak would let me put in his apartment when I was finished. I placed the coffee on the desk in front of the window and lowered myself onto the stool. As I waited for Jak to drink his coffee, I sat and stared with unfocused eyes out the window. As he continued to peer outside, he cleared his throat.

“Anyone interesting pass away today?” he asked.

I shook my head and slid the coffee cup toward him, “Nope.”

I stood from the stool and stepped his direction. Jak had been staying overnight more and more recently. We had both reached a point where it was difficult to sleep alone. When we were finally married and able to be together every night, my life would truly be complete.

He had trimmed his beard into a goatee of sorts, without the mustache. Although Jak was without a doubt the man, he wasn’t the man. The mustache had to go. With his new haircut and a late summer tan from riding, Jak was perfectly gorgeous. As he reached out to hug me, I smiled and rested my head against his shoulder. Today we were going on a poker run. One of the stops was the bar in Potwin. Although I had been worried about going back to my home town, now I felt as if I could do so without much concern.

I decided if we encountered someone who knew me, I would deal with it at the time. I was done hiding from the truth. In some respects, I hoped someone would see me. I’d simply tell Jak the truth. Now, more than ever, I felt my past didn’t matter so much. We all have a past. What we are willing to do and who we are willing to be from this day forward is truly what matters.

As Jak held me in his arms, I exhaled and slowly lifted my feet from the floor. As he felt my weight against his arms, he lifted me and let my legs dangle from the floor. He held me tightly to his naked chest, kissing me softly. Feeling as if I was truly in heaven, I closed my eyes and said a small prayer.

God,

I know they say you work in mysterious ways, so it comes as no surprise I can’t often understand this crazy world we live in. Thanks for Jak, and for everything else you have graced me with.

Keep us safe today, and watch over everyone else we ride with. I know it’s tough for you to understand, but I didn’t really care one way or another about her. I imagine you’ll have to sort her out and send her somewhere, so see if there’s a place in heaven for her. She probably belongs in hell, but even though she was an evil woman, I’m sure she had her reasons. I won’t make the funeral, but you know why.

I never cared much for her.

I suppose it’s tough for you to understand, but it’s my choice. I choose to love those who love me in return.

And I know that’s why you gave me Jak.

Pound it.

Karter out.

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