Page 25 of Burn Point

“Jordan don’t be so droll. I’m just saying…” Her exasperation at me not engaging and promoting her drama often felt like disappointment. I wouldn’t go down this path. Wouldn’t indulge her hysterics.

Dead air lay between us.

“What, Mom? What are you saying?” I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to be patient.

“Honey,” her voice wavered, “I’m just a little freaked out right now. Be nice to me.” She muffled the phone and yelled at someone on her end, rehashing what I’d just told her.

She came back on the line, her voice more animated than before. “Jordan, what are you going to do?”

I don’t know why she acted like it was the end of the world every time something bad happened. But she did, and it became my job to calm her down.

Keeping my voice even, I said, “I’m not going to do anything right now. I’m staying with a friend until things get sorted at my place. I’m working, I’m moving forward.”

“Well, you know Sonny knows people. He can help you.” Ah, yes. Sonny. My mom’s latest boyfriend apparently had connections to everything and everyone.

“I’ve got things under control, but thanks.” I didn’t have anything under control, but I wasn’t telling her that. And I definitely wasn’t accepting her offer of Sonny’s help. That assistance came with too many strings attached.

“Jordan, why do you have to be so stubborn?”

Oh, good, it was time for my mother’s second favorite activity—telling me all the ways I needed to improve.

“I’m not being stubborn, Mom.”

“You can’t do this alone, Jordan. You need help.”

I swallowed a knot of frustration. This had always been her fallback. She didn’t think I could handle anything. But I was not like her. I’d proven that by starting a business. Living on my own. I’d been on my way prior to this setback, and her opinion wouldn’t stop me from achieving my goals.

“I have help, Mom. I’m going to be fine.” Keeping the details of my situation to a minimum was for the best. The less she knew, the less she could criticize.

“I wish you’d just—”

“I’ve got to go, Mom.” I cut in, wanting to stop this before she got on a rant. “I just wanted to check in. I’ll call you later. Love you, bye,” I blurted and ended the call.

Her hysteria stressed me out. I didn’t know what my plans were, but I couldn’t deal with my own emotions about this situation, much less hers. Why couldn’t she be normal and supportive for once?

With a deep breath, I thumbed through the apps on my phone, searching for mindless entertainment. Something to pull my attention away from all the things still on my to-do list and the unanswered questions rolling around in my brain.

I was scrolling through Instagram, checking the progress my favorite van-lifer was making on a conversion, when an idea hatched. Once it did, I couldn’t shake it.

What if I did that? What if I refurbished an old van and took my life on the road? Or what if I could afford a nice, fancy one?

When I’d left Gerry and moved to Georgia to start over, I’d wanted to re-establish my independence. I hadn’t imagined making it a long-term thing. This was meant to be a transitional place. And here I was, starting over again, just two months later.

But this time, maybe I could do something different.

I got lost in the videos of the different types of RVs, a thrill spreading through me.

Though we both loved to travel, Gerry hadn’t shared my love for outdoorsy things. In fact, after the first time we’d gone camping, he’d proclaimed, loudly, that he made enough money to afford the swankiest of hotels and he was never sleeping on an air mattress again. His idea of travel centered on staying in resorts and being waited on hand and foot.

My idea of travel was more organic. I wanted to see everything, and most of the good stuff had to be searched out and worked for.

I hadn’t been camping since that first epic failure with Gerry. I missed it. And I realized now that I’d compromised a lot of my own desires in that relationship.

It’d never occurred to me to go alone, but there was no reason I couldn’t travel solo.

As I scrolled and scrolled, I got more and more excited. There was no reason I couldn’t have this kind of lifestyle. I had nothing to lose by taking off, no ties to this community.

I could do my job from anywhere. I didn’t need a ton of material things to make me happy, which was good considering all that I owned fit into three plastic bins.

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