A Road Trip with Dirty Laundry

(This can be regarded as an account of a youthful adventure, or an example that life has all sorts of roads, and even the wrong ones can lead somewhere nice. It was inspired by some smugness on the part of my husband. He has often drawn inspiration from this web site to spice up our love life, so I am posting it here for him to discover. I trust it will have no negative consequences for our relationship. After all, life is a road trip, parts of it with dirty laundry. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.)

Chapter 1: The Provocation

Michelle had sampled too much holiday wine at the family Thanksgiving gathering. It showed not only in slurred syllables but also in her uninhibited responses to a discussion initiated by my husband Dan, who led her on for his own amusement.

I forget what started this dialogue, but it had evolved into the question of whether women in the service were cut out to be fighter pilots, where a lot of maneuvering was necessary in short periods of time. Dan's opinion was clear.

"The fair sex simply doesn't function well in time and space," he asserted. "There is no better proof of that, Michelle, than the trip to Alabama that Lisa and you took several years ago, when you got slightly diverted en route."

"Big deal -- we took the wrong road for a few miles," Michelle told him.

"More like 500 miles in the wrong direction, wasn't it?" Dan asked, a smug smile on his face.

"Dan, you don't know the half of what happened on that trip," Michelle said. "You and Lisa had broken up at the time, and Lisa and I were just two care-free single girls on a road trip, going where the wind blew us, up for adventure." She paused and laughed at a memory. "Anyway, we didn't pay enough attention to the route, but it certainly turned out to be a fine adventure, and Lisa engineered a clever mail-order way to get her dirty laundry done."

The children had congregated around us, starting to pay attention to this unusual banter of their elders, which had branched out from the usual boring subjects. They were clearly intrigued by this last remark. As was Dan. It was time for me to step in and break it up.

"Dan, why don't you give a hand moving those tables and chairs back into place. And Michelle, we should really help with the dishes." I reinforced the suggestion by giving Michelle a hard look, and taking her arm. She caught on, and we moved toward the kitchen. When out of earshot, I said, "Do you really want our kids to hear some of the details about that trip? Or our husbands either?"

She chortled. "Well, Dan brought it up. And he was so smug, I was tempted to enlighten him a little." She took a sip from her glass, then added, "Okay, you're right. I suppose some of it is inappropriate subject matter for a family gathering." She paused, before adding in a low, conspiratorial tone, "But, just between us girls, it was a fun trip and a good memory, right?"

Ashley revived the subject on the drive home. Our precocious 16-year-old daughter's curiosity had been sparked.

"Dad, what was that all about -- that trip where you said Mom and Aunt Michelle went 500 miles in the wrong direction?"

Dan chuckled, replying, "Well, sweetheart, you should really ask Mom about that. As Aunt Michelle said, I wasn't in the picture at the time. I only know what I heard later, which was that Michelle was driving and your mom was navigating, and they wound up going 500 miles on the wrong highway in the wrong direction before somebody caught on."

Ashley laughed. "Mom, you didn't! I mean, I know you have a hard time telling your left from your right, but 500 miles, really!"

"We were young, darling, and as Aunt Michelle said we were just having fun. We didn't have a GPS, and weren't paying as close attention to the map as we should have. It didn't help that it was an old map we borrowed from Michelle's parents, which had another road highlighted on it from one of their trips. We had outlined our route too, but in telling Michelle where to turn, I picked the wrong line."

"Why were you taking a trip to Alabama, anyway?" Ashley asked.

"Aunt Michelle was engaged to Uncle Richie, and he was in the national guard, stationed at a base down there during some military call-up, but he was going to be discharged shortly and had a lot of free time, and the two of them were eager to see one another again. Also, they wanted to plan their wedding. So Michelle decided to drive down there, and asked me to go along. Since your dad and I had broken up at the time, and I was between jobs, I thought it might be fun to see a little more of the country."

"What was that Aunt Michelle said about mail-order laundry?"

"Well, that was sort of funny. We had been on the road several days and had a lot of dirty laundry by the time we reached the base in Alabama. We turned the rental car in and Michelle was going to visit with Richie a while. I was going to fly home. I had bought a few new things, and luggage space was at a premium. So I had the bright idea of packaging my dirty clothes up and mailing them home to Mother's so I could wash them later." I smiled at the memory. "I was also mailing another package to someone else -- they looked similar, were mixed up and my laundry went to the wrong address."

"So where did your dirty laundry go?"

I had to think fast there. "Oh, to the other person, a good friend, who actually washed the clothes before repackaging and mailing them back to me."

"She must have been a good friend," Ashley laughed.

And then, Dan just had to interject, "Girls, this is why I have reservations about women as military pilots. If they fly 500 miles in the wrong direction and then confuse the rocket launcher with the landing gear button because they look similar, some innocent people might wind up with a lot worse than dirty laundry."

"Oh, Dad, give it up," Ashley said.

I sort of fumed inside. I do love my husband, but his superior attitude just irks me sometimes. Not everything I do is a screwed up, wrong route. Maybe Michelle was right, I thought, frowning at Dan. Maybe he should learn more about what really happened on that road trip.

* * *

Chapter 2: The Journey

The law of unintended consequences: The decisions we make, the things we do have impacts on our lives all the time. Sometimes the consequences are disastrous, other times they are serendipitous, working out for the better. Mostly they are somewhere in between.

If Dan had been around at the time, he might have come along on that road trip, and being so anal would have navigated and not mixed up the two lines on the map. We would have gone direct to Alabama, and none of the following would have happened.

But he was not around. A month previously he had become involved with another woman at work, and thought he was doing the correct thing by confessing it to me, reassuring me in his overbearing, confident manner that it meant nothing and not to worry -- he still loved me. His confession probably was the right thing to do, and maybe I was just too young and naive to appreciate it, but Dan had been my only guy, the only man I had ever made love with, and I felt betrayed. I yelled and told him to screw off, that I never wanted to see him again.

Shortly after, I was laid off from my job. Michelle saw me moping around, and said it would do me good to get away. "Come with me to see your brother. You can help Richie and me plan the wedding. It will take your mind off things."

So I went.

Michelle was right. The trip was fun. We stopped at attractions that looked interesting to us, ate out every night, drank wine, stayed at motels and even watched XXX movies on TV, giggling at the peccadilloes as well as the peckers of nude actors. Up until then I had only lived at home. This was my first time as an adult completely out on my own. Well, not really alone -- I was with Michelle, but we were both young and relishing a sense of freedom, on an adventure.

I guess it was the fourth day that reality broke into our reverie. Shouldn't we have reached Alabama already? We looked closer at the map. We were certainly far south -- too far, in fact, in Lake Charles, Louisiana, about 500 miles west of the base where Richie was stationed. I had followed the wrong line. We had been so involved talking and having fun that neither of us had realized it.

It was nothing to get upset over. We laughed off our error, re-plotted the route and got in several miles in the right direction before finding a motel and treating ourselves to a good dinner and bottle of wine at the restaurant next door. The wine soon got us laughing even harder, and joking about our navigational abilities.

"Any terrorists following us to the target would sure be confused," Michelle said.

"The government should hire us as disinformation specialists," I responded. "Keeping the troops safe,"

The waiter brought dinner, along with a second bottle of wine. "Oh no," I told him. "We didn't order that. We're still working on this one."

"It's compliments of the gentlemen over there," the waiter responded, gesturing toward a table across the small dance floor, occupied by two young guys, one in army fatigues, the other wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a military-style cap. The one with the cap smiled and raised his wine glass in a salute.

I didn't know how to respond, but Michelle, who had always been more outgoing and was more experienced in social situations, returned the greeting and called out, "You gallant men in arms aren't going to let two ladies drink alone, are you." The guys looked at one another, the one with the cap giving a subtle thumbs-up sign to the other. They rose, and I heard one tell the waiter they were taking new seating for when their food was ready.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," I whispered to Michelle.

"Relax, Lisa. It would be rude to let them buy us a bottle and just blow them off. It doesn't mean we have to sleep with them. We'll just talk a little."

The guys approached our booth. "Hello, ladies," said the one with the cap. "We were hoping to find some interesting civilian companionship to round out the first full day of our two-week R&R. I'm Brian and this fellow, so proud of the colors and so eager to get home that he forgot to pack his civvies, is Shane." Brian slid onto the seat next to Michelle. I moved over on my bench to give Shane room, but he just stood there a couple seconds until Brian gave him a look. Then he sat down, nodding at me with a slight smile, but keeping a respectful distance.

We introduced ourselves, and exchanged light banter with our new acquaintances, who were in their early 20s, about our age. Brian said they were activated national guardsmen, currently on leave and headed to their homes in Texas. Michelle asked where they were stationed, and it turned out to be the same base that was our destination.

"My boyfriend, Lisa's brother, is stationed there too," Michelle said. "We're on our way from New Jersey to visit him. His name is Richie Accardo. Do you know him?"

"Can't say we do, ma'am," Brian replied. "It's a big place with a lot of personnel. Less of us lately, since guys are being discharged what with hostilities winding down, and we're expecting to be let go soon too. But if y'all are coming from New Jersey, y'all are a little far west, no?"

Which brought a laugh from Michelle. She told them the story, and Brian laughed heartily while Shane smiled.

"And how about you Navigator Lisa," Brian asked. "Do you have a sweetheart at the base too?"

"No, she's sworn off men," Michelle said before I could answer. I cringed as she added, "Lisa broke up with her boyfriend recently because she didn't like his other woman."

"Sounds like Lisa and my bud here have something in common," Brian replied. Shane flashed him a look and a no-no hand signal, but Brian went on. "He wrote his girl a couple weeks ago that he's coming home and she wrote back something like, 'Dear Shane, I've found someone else to keep my feet warm.' That was nice of her, so's he wouldn't bust the bank on candy and flowers." Shane looked embarrassed. "Hey, old bud, better to find it out now than ten years and two kids from now," Brian told him.

There was a lull in the conversation. Michelle filled it, asking them what their plans were when their discharges came through. Brian said he was going to open a garage and get into sports car and vintage car restoration. Michelle excitedly told him Richie was an old car nut too, and was working on a TR3 she loved to ride in. They got into an enthusiastic discussion about wire wheels, leather interiors and things like that.

Shane still hadn't said much, and I asked if he liked cars too. He shrugged, saying his tastes were more along the lines of hunting, fishing and rural living. He was planning to look for some good land to farm, ranch and raise horses on. I told him that when I was small my family went to the Poconos on a farm vacation, and there was a beautiful palomino mare I loved to ride. His eyes brightened, and he came out of his shell to offer some information about different breeds and their characteristics. He had a deep voice with a soft southern accent, a ruggedly handsome face with blue eyes and thick wavy black hair.

The guys' food arrived, and Michelle and I ordered some strawberry pie for our dessert. Before long we had all gone through that second bottle of wine, and Brian ordered a third. The place was getting busier. A band cranked up, playing some Nashville style country rock.

"Hey, how 'bout you teach me to dance?" Brian said to Michelle. She eagerly accepted and they took the floor on a fast number. Michelle was a good dancer, but Brian kept up with her well. Their twists and turns and Brian's moonwalk soon drew cheers from other patrons.

"I'm not much of a dancer," Shane offered, apologetically. "No lessons where I come from, and I'm not much of a self-learner, like Brian is."

I told him that was okay, and it was nice just talking, but the band switched to a slow one soon, and he surprised by inviting me to dance. I found him more proficient than he had let on. With a firm grip and hand on my back, he guided me decisively around the floor. It was fortunate he was a strong lead, as I was a little tipsy from the wine, and also surprised to find it was not unpleasant being close to a man again. I even leaned into him a little.

As the evening progressed, Michelle and Brian were dancing close, talking in low tones, laughing.

Shane and I found ourselves discussing more than horses. We revealed likes and dislikes in movies and music, and even discussed past experiences, including our mutual failures in love, as well as future plans. He really opened up, but still gave me space to participate in the conversation, listening attentively while looking at me with those deep blue eyes.

"Have to say I'm glad I let Brian talk me into coming down to the restaurant to try and meet you girls," he volunteered.

"So you guys were stalking us?" I asked with raised eyebrows, but smiling to show the remark was meant lightly.

"We were sitting out on the balcony by our room when y'all pulled in, and later watched y'all walk to the restaurant. Brian was taken with Michelle -- he has a weak spot for blondes -- and said we should try to talk y'all up. I didn't want to. What Brian said 'bout me being down on women because Jolene dumped me isn't far off the mark, but Brian said he needed some help if he was going to hone in on Michelle and asked me to distract you." He paused, then added, "But it wasn't too long after we started talking that I felt like I got the best of the deal."

He was so sweet that I blurted out something I was feeling.

"I can't understand why your girlfriend called it off, you seem like such a nice guy."

"I think your former beau was a nut case," he responded. "If a man's lucky enough to find a good woman he should hold onto her and put blinders on so he can't be distracted."

We looked into each other's eyes without speaking for a moment, then took the floor again, completely comfortable and at ease while dancing. I even cozied close to him as we just glided together, my head resting on his shoulder, his arm around my back seeming more like an embrace. When the music stopped we returned to the table to find our companions already seated.

"They're gonna start closing down here soon," Brian said. "What say we get one more bottle and carry the party to our room."

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "It's getting late and Michelle and I have a long way to go tomorrow -- on the right route."

"Hey little lady, this has been so nice for all of us it must be the right route, and we all deserve to go down it a little more," Brian countered. "I know Shane's a fearsome tiger, but I promise I won't let him get out of hand."

We all laughed, even Shane, who after looking down modestly admitted he would like to "share this company a while longer." Michelle was also all for it.

I excused myself to go to the "powder room," looking at Michelle, who said she would accompany me.

"We shouldn't be carrying this any further," I said to her when we were alone. "You especially. You're engaged to my brother, and on your way to see him."

Then as now, it did not take much to get Michelle going, especially when alcohol loosened her tongue.

"And if it all goes down the way it probably will, I'll be seeing a lot of Richie for the next 50 years or so, along with our kids and grandkids," Michelle replied. "We'll get jobs, buy a house, join all the right organizations and get gray together, and I'll enjoy it all, or most of it, but right now I'm only 23 and just dying to take a few more breaths of freedom before the new chapter starts."

"How many breaths are you going to take?"

"Look, Lisa, we've met some cute, fun guys who we're never going to see again, and should enjoy their company while we can. It's not like we're going to sleep with them. But you know, even if we did would that be so bad? It certainly wouldn't be if you did. You're unattached. You've been with only one guy. And you are interested in Shane, I can see that, the way you look at him, dancing so close. Dan is history, and you're not going to join a convent." She swiveled her hips, put on a sly smile and made a clicking sound with her tongue. "This is your chance to see what another guy would be like under the sheets."

Michelle had always been free-spirited, but I was a little taken aback by her candor. It was the wine talking, probably. However, she did have a case. We were young and still free. This was my chance to see what it would be like with another guy. And such a nice guy. But should I just ignore all those parental admonitions and play the slut, throw away my standards and have a one-night stand with a strange guy in a roadside motel?

"Okay, we'll go for a little while," I told her, "but there's no question about it -- you know they're going to come on to us -- and if one of us doesn't feel comfortable, she leaves, understood?"

Michelle nodded, smiling. "Party on sister."

So we went up to the guys' room to continue the party, and it didn't take long for it to heat up. They tuned in a music channel on the TV. Michelle kicked off her shoes, and continued the dance with Brian. Shane and I opened the latest bottle and waited for a slower number. Before long we were cuddling again as we waltzed mostly in place, for I don't know how long. Between the wine and the enjoyable feeling of being held in his strong arms, I lost all sense of time.

When I happened to look around, I saw that Michelle and Brian were lying on one of the double beds, facing each other and talking low. Michelle laughed at something he said and rolled on her back, continuing to laugh while Brian took advantage of the bare midriff shirt she was wearing to trace a finger around her belly button. She laughed that it tickled. He leaned over, bringing their lips close together, and they joined in a kiss. It got kind of passionate, some Frenchie action going on for sure.