Three Weeks on the Road Ch. 22

Author's note:

This chapter of 3WotR contains no sexual activity. If that is your motivation for reading, please check back next week.

We've reached the end of the 3 weeks on the road. If you wish to stop reading at the end, this is technically the completion of the story. However, there is an epilogue next week, a chapter that provides a glimpse of life after the trip.

As always, thank you for reading, for your comments, votes, and feedback. I hope you enjoyed reading 3 Weeks On The Road.

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It was an early morning the next day. No sexual activity upon waking up meant we got ready a hell of a lot earlier than usual, and Jessie barely touched her food, pushing it around on her plate before opting for toast and water due to her upset stomach.

Then I paid the hotel bill, we packed up the Suburban, and it was back on the road. We had ten hours of driving ahead of us, and this close to our destination, I was practically itching to get in the driver's seat.

Iowa was only slightly more picturesque than Nebraska. The terrain seemed hillier, more rolls and dips in the road than the flatlands we'd crossed yesterday, and the adorable farmhouses seemed a hair closer together, but other than those two differences, it was corn and long grass baking in the heat, and a succession of sweaty stops at gas stations populated by haggard looking truckers and perspiring families. We looked no different.

Iowa seemed to be a place that people crossed instead of visited.

The girls spent most of the day on their phones, conversing with Harper back in Denver. He'd called us every day since the riot, and every time he saw my wounded face on video chat, he offered to pay for airplane tickets and a driver to get the SUV back. He and Danny and their wives had been hungover and recuperating that day, had woken up to the sound of car bombs, and had wisely stayed indoors.

For the first time in my life I regretted by responsible sobriety.

I wondered where Tori was. If she'd gotten caught in the action or witnessed it safely from a window. I hadn't heard of anyone getting arrested for shooting two dozen violent assholes - something the mayor seemed like he would trumpet in his press conferences - so it was safe to assume she'd been well away from the thick of it.

I couldn't really know though, and wouldn't ever know. The meal I'd shared with her was the last time I'd see her, given that this was a country of the hundred and fifty million people and I lived like ten states away. I could find her. If I wanted.

IF I wanted.

I reached over and took Jessie's hand, squeezed it. She looked up from her phone and gave me a melancholy smile.

Wisconsin seemed more close than Iowa. Iowan fields rolled, the land has more rises and dips than Nebraska, but it was still flat farmland. Back in Wisconsin, there seemed to be more windbreaks, more dense copses of forest standing sentry along the roads and between fields. The long, stretching views of cornfields were broken up by greenery, and towns seemed to pop up a little more frequently along the highways.

We drove through a rain squall heading back into Milwaukee, the sky turning the color of iron and drizzling heavy drops down onto the windshield, spray kicking up behind the tires of the vehicles we passed. An appropriate end for the trip. The weather inspired reflection, and induced in me more than a little regret at seeing the end of a tumultuous trip.

It had been fun.

And it had hurt.

Milwaukee was wet but out from under the oppressive cloud cover that had been dropping rain, blue skies above and sunshine sparkling through the dripping trees, heating the darkened placement up to the point that in a few places it started to steam.

What a beautiful city.

MY beautiful city.

A sense of anticipation grew as I turned down familiar streets, the houses more and more recognizable, more and more rundown. A turn, a turn, another turn, and there was the dead end sign. I turned left into the driveway, and clicked the garage door opener. The wide expense of white metal rose slowly, and I put the vehicle in park behind Jessie's ancient Monte Carlo.

"Home sweet home."

"We should learn to play that one!" McKenna said excitedly.

Jessie snorted and got out. "I'm not even thinking about performing again until we finish up the project and get paid."

We grabbed what we had in the cab of the SUV and I unlocked the door into the house. Cool and climate controlled. Ashley had kept it clean, no raucous parties. Dusty, still, and achingly familiar.

I'd missed my house.

Despite all the fun we'd had, I had missed being home.

Jessie went to the bathroom and I helped McKenna load her bags into her F One Fifty. It cracked me up to think of the tiny girl driving such a large truck. We got the bags loaded and she clambered off the back, gave me the finger when I offered to help her off the bed. "I got it."

She slammed the tailgate and clapped dust off her hands. We looked at each other like we didn't know what to say. "Thanks for coming," I told her finally.

"Thanks for letting me. Thanks for... All of it."

"It wasn't all fun, but a lot of it was."

"Fuckin-aye right."

"Mike, you want to stay for dinner?" Jessie asked as she walked into the garage.

The little programmer looked over, seemingly embarrassed. "Nah, I'm gonna head home. Pick up my cats from the boarders, then sit down and start working. Sooner I plow through that list they gave us, the sooner you and I get paid."

"Ok. See you soon?"

McKenna hugged her, gave her a peck on the cheek. "Absolutely."

She reached out to shake my hand and I picked her up in a bear hug, swung her around squealing. She punched me in the chest when I set her down, and looked guilty when I winced for real. "See you round, Mickey."

"Don't call me that."

I opened her door for her, shut it behind her as the truck roared to life and the window descended. "I'm never gonna stop calling you that."

McKenna backed the truck out, waved, and accelerated down the street.

Jessie sagged against my shoulder, and I put an arm around her. "I love you."

"I love you too."

We carried the bags in and I checked the refrigerator. We'd mostly emptied it before leaving. "I'm gonna walk down to Ashley's and get some dinner. Thoughts?"

"My stomachs not feeling the best, so nothing too spicy, ok?"

"That level one masala sound ok?"

"I think so."

I left Jessie sorting laundry, locked the door behind me and walked down the driveway. The easily evening was warm and humid, and the descending sun was lighting everything gold. For a Friday night, the neighborhood was quiet, and off in the distance, I could hear the highway hum.

Good day to be home. A weekend to rest and then back to work.

"Hey Gary, how was - the hell happened to you?" Ashley started around the counter when she saw my face.

"Uh, car accident?"

"No, those bruises look like boot tread."

"Good to see you too, Ash." I gave her a hug and looked around the small convenience store. It was rather cramped, but Ashley kept the tall shelves packed to overflowing, and rather than take up floor space, she kept food going on burners behind the counter. I didn't know how she maneuvered back there without burning herself. "You got any of that barely spicy masala left?"

"Yeah."

"A quart of that with rice please."

"Coming right up."

I watched her move around, her gorgeous brown skin on display in small denim shorts and a tank top. Her tight braid of hair swung behind her, and I remembered, weeks ago, pulling on it to make her arch her back.

"So you're not going to tell me what happened?" she asked as I exchanged cash for a heavy plastic cylinder of food.

"We'll have you over for dinner and drinks, probably next week, and fill you in then. Right now I just need to get home and unpack. Its been a long-ass day of driving."

"Ah. Well, I'll see you soon then. Tell Jessie I said hi. I hope you feel better soon."

"I will." I took the change from her and leaned over the counter to give her a kiss. "Thanks for keeping an eye on things while we were gone."

"No problem at all."

Jessie wasn't inside when I got home. The washing machine was running, but no Jessie in the basement or either of the main floors. That left just one place to look.

The screen door slammed as I trotted across the lawn, around the pool, and up to the massive rocket-shaped piece of playground equipment cemented into the ground. It stood about forty feet tall, and tight metal staircases and ladders wove through the cylindrical body until you reached either the slide halfway up, and the open room at the top. "Jessie?"

"I'm up here."

I climbed up through the structure, bending my large frame through the twists and turns, navigating the platforms and ladders. It was a tight squeeze. The city has decided to get rid of it due to complaints from some larger children and their families, and I'd spent a sizable fraction of the college settlement buying it from them and having it installed. My house had cost thirty grand before the renovations to make it livable. This hunk of junk had cost...more.

Jessie was sitting against the central column at the top, gazing out over the neighborhood. The sun was even lower now, lighting the tops of houses, and streetlights were beginning to come on. Downtown Milwaukee was lit up like a beacon, far away but seemingly close, just over some trees and a highway. Children yelled and laughed in one of the neighboring yards, voices carrying on the slight breeze.

"There's food on the table."

"Ok."

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. My stomach's just cramping really bad. My uterus hates me."

"Not what I meant."

Jessie pulled a package of cigarettes from the pocket of her hoodie, turned them over and over in her hands. She smoked when she was stressed, and I let her have a pack a year. She'd burned through half the pack in the last seven months, and a pack that night in Denver. Not a terrible rate, but eventually I'd spank her for that extra pack. I felt bad that she was considering lighting up today.

Finally, she put them away. "I did it," she said quietly. "My mom was wrong. I actually made something of my life. I'm... I'm actually worth something."

I moved from crouching in front of her to sitting beside her, and she curled against my shoulder as I pulled her into a side-hug. "You are worth something - business success or not."

"Yeah, but..."

"Jessie." I turned her head so she was looking at me from against my shoulder. So close, I was again struck by the unconventional beauty of her face - strong definition in her cheeks and jaw, pale, lightly freckled skin, wide gray eyes, black hair hanging down to her shoulders.

I leaned in and kissed her, not to communicate lust or sexual desire, but to reassure. Once on the lips, once on the forehead. "You're mine. I love you. I'm proud of you."

"Promise?"

"Always."

The End