“Sure. We’re going to start off in Charlotte, North Carolina at this bar called Warner’s.” I listened Garrett go into detail about the upcoming Generation Rejects tour and I was able to forget, just for a moment, that I would be with my very sick father in a few short hours. I could pretend that we were just two people, getting to know each other.
And I realized then that Garrett had a way of making me forget the things that haunted me. He had done it after my break up with Damien and here he was, doing it again. There was something amazing in the way he gathered up my pieces without my ever expecting him to.
For two people whose only interactions were humiliating or drunkenly sexual, our easy candor was shocking. I had never expected that the one person I had declared to have no place in my life, to be my one great regret, to fit so perfectly into my existence that it was as though he had always been there.
“Do you want to go straight to the hospital or head to your parents house first?” Garrett asked as he pulled off the interstate at exit 26. He turned right onto Route 23 toward the small, seaside town of Port David.
I squinted as I tried to read the clock on my dashboard. My eyes were blurry from my lack of sleep. It was already five-thirty in the morning. Garrett had insisted we stop for something to eat, saying I needed to keep my energy up, thus adding another forty-five minutes onto our travel time. I had been irritated by the suggestion but was now glad to have a full stomach.
“I think we should go to my parents’ first. I want to see if my brother and sister are there. Drop off my stuff,” I said.
“Okay, lead the way,” Garrett replied and I began to rattle off directions that took him through my sleepy hometown and out toward the coast. My parents owned a small house by the ocean. Once I had headed off to college, they had sold their larger house in town and bought the small bungalow on the beach. My parents loved getting up in the morning and drinking their tea on the sand as the sun came up.
My parents’ lives completely revolved around each other. Even when I was a child I knew that despite their love for their kids, their first and greatest love was for each other. Their relationship was a reassurance. A reminder that good things happen to good people.
At least until now.
Now all I could think of was if my dad didn’t make it, what would my mom do? How would she go on without the love of her life? Was it even possible to come back from losing the person you hung your moon on?
“Wow, this is awesome,” Garrett said as he pulled in front of the small, yellow house with its white porch and wooden fence. The sun was just coming up and it was almost magical in the way it shimmered off the rolling waves.
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, getting my bag out of the back seat and climbing out of my car. I stretched and looked around at the tiny corner of the world my parents now called home. It was so them. From the multi-colored mailbox to the series of stone gnomes dotting the front garden. My mom’s wind chimes hung from hooks along the porch and my dad had purchased a straw welcome mat with the Grateful Dead slogan “All in the Family.”
I looked over at Garrett. He had his arms stretched out above his head and I knew he had to be as tired as I was. He had driven for the last four and a half hours without complaint. I knew he’d need to sleep before heading home to Bakersville. It was agreed he’d take my car back with him and I’d figure out getting back to school when the time came.
It was cold, particularly on the water like this. The air was crisp and clean and it helped to chase some of the cobwebs from my head.
“Come on,” I said, inclining my head toward the house. Garrett took my bag from my hands and slung it over his shoulder. He followed me up to the porch.