Page 67 of Something Borrowed

Fifteen miles up the road I pull into a run down truck stop. There is a small coffee shop attached to it. Thick white chunks of oldpaint peel from the walls and wide cracks pattern the crumbling bricks beneath it.

“Let’s get some food. Then we can drive a little more and find a place to stop for the day.” I pull her door open and she climbs out, refusing to take my hand.

Sighing, I walk beside her. When I push the sand blasted glass door open a small bells chimes noisy above us and the old man behind the counter near the entrance looks up at us as though we’ve fallen from the sky.

“Are you lost?” he asks, scrunching his sun aged face in confusion.

“Not lost, just out on an adventure.” I smile.

“If you’re looking for adventure, you ain’t gonna find it out here. There’s nothing out here but truck stops and old motels.”

I chuckle. “I guess it depends on what kind of adventure someone is looking for then.”

He laughs too. A dry crackling sound that reminds me of my grandfather. He was a chain smoker.

“And you pretty thing. You also on an adventure?” he looks at Verity. She takes a step closer to me.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m harmless.” He laughs. “Ask my wife. I can’t even run after ya or nothing.”

He comes out from behind the counter, pushing the wheels of his wheelchair.

“Honey bee, we got visitors.” He shouts into the back.

“Coming.” A singsong voice replies to him.

“My wife is the best cook I’ve ever met. That’s why our marriage lasted as long as it has.” He grins.

His wife, a plump woman wearing a square shaped floral dress, comes walking towards us. “Is he giving you trouble?” she asks Verity with a warm smile on her face.

“No, not at all.” Verity grins.

“You folks lost?”

“I already asked em that.”

“Well?” She shrugs.

“Not lost, just hungry.” I glance at Verity. She nods.

“In that case you are in the right place.” Her husband’s smile is so wide, and I can see pride in his eyes. “What’s on the menu today, honey bee?”

“I’ve got a fresh load of cranberry bread just came out the oven. Still hot. And blueberry muffins and if you want something more substantial, I have lamb pot roast.”

“Wow. It all sounds amazing.” Verity says. She barely ate last night so I imagine she’s starving.

We place an order for a bowl of pot roast and two thick slices of cranberry bread with apricot and strawberry jam.

Sitting at the table near the back of the coffee shop Verity is staring through the dusty window out onto the landscape.

“I’ve never been to a place like this.” She comments.

I reach out and take her hand.

“Are you ok?” I ask.

She bites her lip. “This isn’t really an adventure. Not the kind I would choose to go on.”

“I know, little vixen. It’s not the type of adventure I want to take you on either. We just need to get away for a while until I can figure things out.”

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