Chapter 12

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. In fact, it was just brief naps that lasted from a few minutes to an hour or so, at the most.

The next morning, I finished unpacking and started laundry. I told my parents that I had no plans to leave the house. Dad scowled a lot, but didn’t say much. Mom? She was looking at me with a mix of sadness and something I couldn’t place.

Dad left for work, saying he would be home for dinner. “I want you to go through your things and work with your mother on getting whatever you need for school. As I understand it, classes start this Wednesday.”

It was Saturday, so not much time. “Yes, sir.”

I heard my parents talking quietly at the front door.

“How about we sit for a little while and talk? Your father isn’t here now to be upset and you can tell me a little more, if you want to.” Mom smiled gently. “No yelling or recriminations. I just want to hear it from you.”

So I told her. I told her about how I came up with this crazy idea and how I walked two miles to the truck stop. I told her about meeting a nice man who wasn’t like all the other questionable looking drivers. (What I didn’t tell her were specific names.) About how we traveled north, visited his family. How I saw more of the country, the REAL country than I had expected. She laughed at the story of a Budweiser beer in Canada. (“They wanted to charge him HOW MUCH for a can of that stuff?”)

I told her about the Independence Day celebrations. (“Go get the uniform top! I want to see!” So I ran to my room and put it on. I also gave her a copy of the town newspaper to look at. She laughed.) I told her of the miles and miles of traveling, from one job to another.

I told her of the many wonderful people I had met. I told her how those long hours as the highway rolled under us, allowed me and “My Guy” to talk and get to know each other, and to fall in love.

“When did you finally...?”

“Believe me, not as early as I would have liked. In fact, I had to push things because he was so reluctant and didn’t want to hurt me.”

“Points to him,” she smiled. “Most guys would be ripping your clothes off at the first chance they had.”

“Mom? Except for the fact that he is older than me, he would be the perfect guy that you and dad would want me to date. He is not the typical trucker who is obnoxious and crazy. A gentleman.”

I told her that we finally decided to stop denying our feelings after dancing at the honky-tonk. I didn’t mention why we decided to leave, or what happened after, with Carlos and Miguel.

And I told her how in a Motel 6 in Knoxville we finally shared our feelings for each other and we made love.

“Was he good to you? Did it hurt?”

“Mom,” I suddenly sobbed. “It was the most wonderful experience in my life. He took the time to make sure I was okay with everything and go at my own pace. I have no idea if I will ever feel that way again.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because,” I stood and grabbed the things that I had shown her, “because Daddy is going to make it his life mission to destroy the man I love and I can’t let him. So I have to let him go and never see him again. And this is NOT teen angst or drama! You know how he is. A fucking bloodhound on the scent, never resting. I will NOT allow that!” Running to my room, I slammed my door behind me and was face down on the bed, screaming to myself about how much it all hurt.

Mom actually did the best thing possible, and let me have my privacy. Somehow, I dozed off into a fitful sleep.

“Sweetheart? Wake up. It’s noon. I let you rest for a while but we need to go do some school shopping.” Mom was sitting on the edge of my bed, rubbing my back.

“Okay. Just give me a few minutes to be human.”

“Sure, we can hit the drive-through at Hardee’s for lunch and see if maybe we can find something cute at Hot Topic.”

“Hey!” I sat up. “Who are you and what did you do with my mother?”

“Patricia Kellogg,” she smirked. “There are other stores in the mall besides Penney’s!”

We had Chinese takeout for dinner. As I stabbed the food on my plate, I recalled eating with Amanda, Melody, and Nancy, the first night that Pat and I showed up at their home in Virginia. The atmosphere around the table was the exact opposite. That night was fun and welcoming, while tonight was glacial. My father said little and when he did speak, it was in clipped sentences.

For a man who had stated he was worried and not angry and just wanted me home safe, he sure didn’t seem that way now.

“Your mother told me that you shared some of your experiences with her. Could you do that with me?”

So again, I shared. Not as much as I had with my mother, but enough to make my point. I even told him that I loved ‘him’ and he loved me.

“Oh, bullshit,” he growled. “You’re just a sweet and gullible child and he bamboozled you into sharing a bed and now that you’re home, he is off to find someone else. Love? Maybe infatuation. But him love you? I don’t see it. He was using you all this time. You’re just in love with the idea of being in love!”

“Dad, what is that phrase? ‘I call bullshit on your bullshit’!” I stood. “I’m 17, he is 26. Okay, a 9 year age difference. But I’m old enough to know what love is supposed to be like. He treated me better than any stupid boy from school on a date. He taught me about a lot of things. We shared our thoughts and feelings and it was astonishing how much they run the same lines.”

I was on a roll and didn’t care.

“I’m too young to be in love? More bullshit! You and mom started dating at 15 and never stopped being a couple since then. How old were you when you told each other that you loved each other?”

“If he loves you so much, where is he? He didn’t even have the guts to bring you home.”

“Last I knew, he was in a hotel room in Jacksonville, crying his eyes out as he read a letter that said I was sneaking away to protect him from you.” I took a deep breath. “Your own words were ‘I will destroy him!’ and I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“But you’re a child!”

“That ship done sailed, Daddy. I’m 17 and my precious virginity is gone. By my own free will. You seem to forget that I have that. Free will.”

Mom grabbed his hand to try to help him calm down. “Slow, deep breaths, honey. Slow deep breaths.” The throbbing vein over his forehead didn’t look good. We were worried he might have a stroke.

“You’ve changed. I don’t like it,” he gasped.

“Daddy, yes, I have. We all do. That is life. Is it for the better? Only time will tell. But I am still trying to figure out who I am now. I’m sorry. But you need to back off. If you can’t, I will find a way to test out my GED, make a few phone calls and the next time you see or hear from me will be after I turn 18 and I send you a picture of me and Chica in Anchorage!”

The next day, I got an email from Melody.

“Tricia, What is going on? Pat got home late last night and he looks like a zombie. He isn’t talking much except to say that you left him in Jacksonville to go home and ‘protect’ him. I begged you back in June that you wouldn’t break his heart. But it looks like that is what happened. This came out of nowhere! Up until a few days ago, we all thought everything was great. And now, this. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt here, that this is all a major communication screw up of some sort that can be fixed. Please fill in the blanks for me, Mom and Nancy, because he’s not saying much. - Melody”