Chapter 6

I’d spent my first night in America at an airport hotel recovering from the flight and the night before. At nine the next morning, I stood outside of the dealers with my backpack and suitcase at my feet, watching as the temporary plates were fixed to my darling new car. I placed the insurance, car papers and my international driving license in the glove box and locked it. The bags went in the boot, shit I needed to remember they called it a trunk over here. I had treated myself to the bags back home at my local Aston dealer so I knew they would fit.

I pressed the engine start button and listened as the V12 burbled into life. Oh, yes, life was good. I pulled out of the dealers and headed north.

I had the first part of the trip planned out in my mind — Daytona Beach, then Jacksonville, Savannah and on to Charleston. I thought I’d go as far as Virginia Beach before heading west.

I’d only made fifty miles before I was pulled over by a police car, I knew I had been speeding, in my defense, there wasn’t a lot of traffic and I’m used to driving at eighty-five on the British motorways. Yes, I know the speed limits seventy but who the hell keeps to that. I’d been clocked at ninety in a sixty-five zone.

Somehow I managed to get away with a slapped wrist and fifteen minutes spent with the state trooper admiring the V12 under the bonnet, shit I must remember to call it the hood.

Seven hours later, having almost kept to the speed limit and only stopped briefly for a snack at lunchtime. I was about twenty miles south of Savannah and looking for a place to stay. I had intentionally not booked any hotels. I was going to take potluck and try out the Motels I’d seen so many times in American road trip films.

I saw a sign ahead, The Sands Motel, Bar and Grill, and pulled in and parked in front of the office. The clerk behind the counter had smiled at my accent and laughed as I explained that as far as I was concerned, I don’t have one, he was the one with the accent.

He took my money and gave me a key to room ten. I parked the Aston outside and raised the roof, and locked it up. The room was clean and had a pair of beds and that was it. I took a shower and got dressed in clean clothes. I was feeling hungry so I decided to try the bar and grill. I took my iPad with me, I had promised to Skype call my lovers and I was hoping that they were still awake.

The waitress, a beautiful blond in her late twenties, introduced herself as Julie and showed me to a booth. She cooed over my accent and brought me a menu and the obligatory glass of iced water. I ordered a beer and a steak and smiled at myself over the originality of my order.

When Julie brought my beer over, I indicated my iPad and asked if they had a Wi-Fi connection. I had the 3G version, but I’d forgotten to pick up a replacement SIM card in Orlando, another thing I needed to add to my to-do list.

She smiled at me and wrote down the password on a napkin. For a few minutes, we talked and flirted until the barman called her over. She joined him and the other waitress at the end of the bar.

I logged on and slid the headphones on. Sally answered after a few moments. Her head filling the screen as she blew me a kiss then said. “Hi there, I miss you, how is it going?”

“It’s good, I managed a bit over four hundred miles today, but it’s very lonely on my own, I miss you and Mila.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in a small town a bit south of Savannah, I’m staying at a motel, and there’s a nice bar next door. I’ve just ordered my supper, and you?”

“Getting ready for bed,” and she pointed the camera lower, and her naked chest appeared on the screen.

“Crap Sally, that’s not fair, the best I can offer you is the inside of a bar.” I angled the iPad to show her the room, and I hear her laugh and then gasp as she realized I was showing the occupants of the bar, her naked breasts. Although I noticed when I turn it back to me, she hadn’t covered them.

We talked for a few minutes longer until I saw Julie heading in my direction with my steak. I signed off promising to call her tomorrow.

I cut into my juicy steak, and I was surprised how good it was and set about demolishing it. I was just starting the apple pie I couldn’t resist when the iPad buzzed.

Mila’s face peered out at me, and I blew her a kiss.

“Hi gorgeous,” I said, “I just spoke to Sally, and she showed me her boobs.”

She laughed and held the phone out so I could see more of her. She was wearing scrubs, and I could see the X-Ray coffee room in the background.

“No such luck with me, I’m on call tonight.”

“Spoilsport.”

She grinned and spoke to someone in the room with her. “Simon close your eyes, no peeking, or I’ll tell your girlfriend you were groping me.” I heard a male voice laugh in the background.

She propped her phone up and pulled her scrub top up and showed me her breasts almost covered by her lacy bra. Her nipples were clearly visible through the sheer fabric.

“Does this make you miss me?” she said as she pulled her top down.

“I didn’t need to see the girls to make me miss you.”

“I’ve got some exciting news; HR has asked me to rescind my notice.”

“What’s that?”

“They want me to take a year’s unpaid leave; instead, they say they can hold my job for me. Apparently, someone wrote a glowing letter of recommendation and suggested that option to them, any idea who that could have been boss?”

“Not a clue,” I lied. “Try asking your lover; she signs my signature better than I do.”

“Is that so? I need to have a word with my devious aunt.”

I heard a tannoy call in the background, “Shit I need to go,” she said. “Head trauma for a CT, bloody motorcyclists. I’ll try and call you later. Love you.” And the screen went blank as I said, ‘I love you.’

I took my beer and moved to the bar and sat down on a stool there. I felt a bit lonely after talking to Sally and Mila, and I didn’t want to hide in a dark booth.

I spoke to the bartender, who turned out to be another Mike and the owner of the bar. The bar wasn’t busy as it was quite early, so Julie was able to sit and talk as well. We chuckled over us having the same name. I told them about getting the position in Denver and my decision to drive there, my version of a road trip. Julie was Mikes’s girlfriend, and I admitted to leaving mine back in the UK.

Mike asked, “Have you split up?”

“Nope, Mila’s flying over to join me in a few weeks.”

Julie looked a bit confused, “I swear, I heard you call her Sally earlier?”

I wasn’t sure how much I should say, the whole idea was still novel to me, let alone strangers. Oh, what the hell I’d be gone in the morning, who cared if they didn’t approve.

“You did, somehow, I’ve seemed to acquire a fiancé and a girlfriend. Sally’s my fiancé and she’s also my girlfriend Mila’s aunt.”

Mike looked hard at me, “Crap, how do you keep them separate?”

I laughed, “I don’t need to, they both know about each other, they’ve been lovers for years, and Sally and I have been together for even longer.”

Julie said, “Two lovers, how old are they, have you got photos?”

“Sally’s thirty-two and Mila’s twenty-five, and this is them.”

I passed my iPad over to her, opening the photo folder.

“Wow, they are beautiful; you are a lucky man. How did you meet them?” Julia passed the iPad to her boyfriend and he made appreciative noises.

Julie looked at me inquisitively, so I asked for a second beer and told my story in short bursts between her serving other patrons.

Mike laughed, “It just proves to me I have no clue about people, I’d guessed that you were a salesman and it turned out you were an MD, a Professor no less.”

He and I discovered we had a mutual appreciation of high-performance cars. He spent a happy twenty minutes enthusing about the different Mustangs. He pulled a couple of well-thumbed car magazines from behind the bar to show me his dream model. I admit it’s not a car I knew much about.

He finished by asking me about the car of my dreams. It was just too good an opportunity. I fished in my pocket and tossed him my keys.

He turned them over in his hands, “Holy fuck, you’ve got an Aston, which one?”

“A Vanquish Volante, the V12, it’s parked outside.”

He was halfway across the room, heading for the door before he paused and asked, “Is it okay if I look?”

“No problem.” I saw the happy grin settle on his face and thought, ‘what the hell why not’ and added, “Want to take her for a quick spin?” I nodded at Julie, “and take Julie with you.”

“Err ... I can’t leave the bar unmanned,” he said.

I stood up and walked behind the bar counter. “It won’t be the first time I’ve helped out behind a bar, and there’s the other waitress if I need help,” I said.

He hesitated for just a moment, and then he grinned and swung his girlfriend around and was out the door in seconds. The throaty roar of the V12 could easily be heard over the song playing softly on the jukebox.

There was a cough, and a guy at the end of the bar asked for a beer. I turned and kept up my side of the bargain.

Mike and Julie were back ten minutes later, and the bar was still standing. His face said it all, “That one beautiful car, thank you.”

I returned to my side of the bar, and he poured us both a whiskey. He raised his glass to me and said, “I should hate you. All my adult life, I’ve been fantasizing about a Mustang. Now I know I want an Aston.”

I grinned and sat back on my stool. Mike flipped the channels on the TV behind the bar and settled on a baseball game. Now I’m British and proud of it. I can understand the passion for American football; I almost get ice hockey and basketball. But for the life of me, I don’t know why a grown man would want to watch a game of glorified rounder’s. Give me Test Cricket any day; it’s the best excuse I know to laze around and drink for five straight days.

I made the mistake of voicing my opinion; I blame my stupidity on the lack of sleep from the night before.

Mike made it his mission to bring me back to the straight and narrow, his words not mine. Multiple diagrams on numerous napkins left me just as confused, and I admitted defeat. Double plays, triple plays, loading the bases, my head was spinning. Why couldn’t it be as simple as fielding at silly mid-off or backward short leg, or bowling a googly?

All in all, I was having a great night. I sat back on my stool and took in the rest of the bar. It was still reasonably early, and there was only a handful of customers. The music was quiet and the sound on the TV was muted which is probably why the heated conversation in the booth behind me stood out.