The Journey Ch. 08

"That's huge, Viv! The 'you' before rehab would have never have thought about asking Jane to marry her. You'd have waited around until she had to ask. Then you'd probably have freaked out and fucked it up."

I snorted. "Thanks a lot man."

"Just sayin', you've come a long way. I'm really proud of you."

I nodded. "Thanks a lot man," I said again, sincerely this time.

Diego helped me move the rest of the furniture out, we covered the bed with a plastic tarp, then he stayed long enough to help me tape off the doors and windows. I spent the rest of the morning and afternoon priming and painting the walls, alternating between cranking up one of my many dance playlists and Jane's R&B records.

At least a dozen times during the day I thought about how nice a cold beer would be, how in the past I'd go through at least a six-pack doing a project like this. But, it'd gotten better. I wasn't craving a beer. I didn't feel like I needed it. I just... missed the idea of it now.

If there'd been beer in our fridge, I'd probably would've given in, relapsed. I'd probably think what's the harm in one? My willpower wasn't that good yet. I thought back to the day I'd moved in, when Jane had taken me to my halfway house to pack up my one suitcase of belongings. Once we'd gotten home, I'd come out of the bathroom to find her pouring out all the Yuengling she kept in the fridge for when her dad visited. She'd followed that by opening all the wine bottles in her pantry and pouring those down the sink as well, while I stood watching, trying not to cry.

But today, I didn't have to spend the whole day trying to ignore the urge to drink. It was more... I was aware it was there, in the background, but right at the moment it was more of an intellectual curiosity than a raging desire. Having the routine and dull work of cutting in the edges of the baseboards and doorways with a paint brush to focus on, helped keep my mind off how tasty a nice cold beer would be. Or tequila. Man, I did miss tequila.

Jane called me that evening, but I let it go to voicemail, then texted her twenty minutes later, saying I was driving a train and couldn't answer. A little white lie, but I wanted this to be a total surprise. I knew she was going to a dinner hosted by a Virginia Tech professor, and would be busy chatting with other professors all evening anyway.

The next morning, I got up early to put a finishing coat on before Diego showed up to help me move the big furniture back. I finished getting most of our stuff back in the room just after lunch and decided I needed to air out the place, as it was extra-painty smelling, so I turned off the A/C, opened all the windows and took a walk, figuring I'd find a late lunch somewhere off U Street.

I was trying to decide between sushi or Tex-Mex when my phone rang. I pulled out one of my Bluetooth earbuds and stuck it in my ear to answer.

"Hey babe! Are you done?"

"Yes, I'm headed back. Just calling to tell you I might be late." Jane sounded frustrated.

"Oh no, what's going on?"

"There's a big wreck ahead on eighty-one. They shut down the highway and Waze had me get off onto the local roads. Says an hour slower going this route, but it'd have been like two hours extra if I stayed on the interstate."

"Oh, that sucks."

"I know. I wanted to get back early. I need to get you back from yesterday morning."

I laughed. "I'm looking forward to that."

"What have you been up to while I've been gone?"

"Oh, you know, homework. Did a little housecleaning." I grinned at my reflection as I walked past a shop window.

"You? Cleaned the house?" I could hear the good-natured teasing tone in her voice. "You deserve a double reward for that."

"How you gonna do that? You already said you were gonna get me back twice from yesterday."

"Maybe I'll take you on a weekend getaway. This little town looks quaint. We could find a bed and breakfast, do some antiquing."

"Antiquing. You know me so well. Where are you anyway?"

"Some little town in the middle of nowhere. The sign said Wakeville I think? It's cute. But you're right, you probably wouldn't... hang on."

"What's up?"

"Shoot. I'm being pulled over."

"Uh oh. Were you speeding?"

"No, the traffic is crawling here because of everyone getting off the highway. He just pulled in between me and the car behind me and turned on his lights."

"Damn, should I let you go or—"

"No! Stay on the line. I'm gonna put you on mute but stay on and listen." I heard... fear... in her voice.

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I switched to the app store and typed "record a phone call" into the search bar. I found an app and started downloading it. Agonizingly slowly.

"Good afternoon, officer. Can I ask why you pulled me over?" I heard Jane say.

"License and registration."

I heard rustling sounds. "Here's my license. I just got this car this week, I don't have my permanent registration yet. Shoot, I think I left the thing the dealer gave me at home. I have the temporary tag on the back."

"No registration? So, you can't prove this car belongs to you?"

"What? Of course, it's mine, why would I—"

"I'm going to run your license, don't move while I'm gone."

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" I said, gritting my teeth. The app finally loaded and I opened it. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" I snapped. It wanted me to create an account before it would work. I frantically typed in my email address and a password, then switched to my email app to verify my account. Finally, it let me press a button and it looked like it was recording our call.

"I hope you can still hear me, babe. I have no idea what he wants, I wasn't doing anything wrong. He just went back to his car. Another cop just pulled in behind him. He got out and is talking to the first— Okay, they're both coming back here... Officer, can I—"

"Step out of the car, please Miss May."

"It's Doctor May. Can you tell me why you pulled me over first?"

"You were weaving in your lane and driving in an unsafe manner. Get out of the car."

"I was not weaving. Why do you need me to get out?"

"When I pulled you over, I smelled the odor of marijuana, which gives me probable cause to search this car that you supposedly own."

"That's a lie and you know it. There is no smell and I wasn't weaving."

"Get out of the car Miss May. Now."

I heard the bell for the door being opened start chiming.

"Fine, I— Ow! Get your hands off me!"

"I'm restraining you for our safety and I'm going—"

"This is fucking bullshit!"

I gasped in dismay. It was the first time I'd ever heard Jane curse.

"I'm going to put you in the back of my car while I conduct my search."

"This is bullshit! I wasn't weaving and you didn't smell weed! This is bullshit!"

"Shut the fuck up, before you get tased!"

I heard her voice, still protesting, moving away from the car. After a minute I heard the first voice coming back. Another sound of a car door opening and then there were two voices.

"'It's Doctor May!' What a load of shit. Nappy-ass ho sassing me like that."

"What's the play?" the second voice said.

"Not sure. Let's see if we can come up with anything. If we find any drugs or paraphernalia, we can take the car by civil forfeiture. Hell, even if we don't we can seize it on suspicion. This is a nice ride. It'd make a good squad car."

The second voice laughed. Motherfuckers! I fumed to myself.

"For sure I'm going to let her cool her heels in a cell overnight just for mouthing off like that. Call it resisting arrest. You saw her punch me, right?"

More laughter. "Oh, for sure. She totally resisted arrest. You'll be covered in bruises tomorrow. Man, this car is clean. Think she stole it right off a lot?"

"Who knows where she... wait. Shit."

"What?"

"The fucking phone is on!'

"That bitch."

The call disconnected. I was hyperventilating.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! what do I do, what do I...?"

I scrolled quickly through my contacts until I found the one I was looking for.

The phone rang once, then immediately went to voicemail.

"Hi! You've reached Marc Hansen, attorney for Lampedo Women's Legal Services. I'm currently in Costa Rica for a month, and am off the grid! Woo! Leave a message and I'll return your call when I come back August first. Unless I find a nice commune in the jungle and decide to start a new career rescuing baby sloths!"

"Fuck!" I screamed at my phone, ignoring the glares I received from people walking past me on the sidewalk. I didn't know what to do, and I felt panic rising in my gorge.

I looked up, realizing I was standing in front of a liquor store, a huge poster for Patrón staring me in the face.

"Goddamnit!" I yelled again, anger, frustration and fear churning up in me.

My mind raced, trying to think of an alternative to what I knew was going to happen next. What had to happen next. What was inevitable. And I couldn't think of one. I knew what I was about to do. And I wasn't the least bit happy about it.

To Be Continued...