“Yeah, I’ll be right there!” A man’s enthusiastic tone travels in the moderate space of the convenience store that is packed from top shelf to bottom.
“How can I help?” he places an ice box stacked with ice cubes on the counter, “I’m Milo,” he extends a hand to shake mine. A man pushing sixties who wears his gray hair like an accessory. He has a few visible tattoos I can scour along his fitted form.
“Blakely Wilder.” I grip his hand for a quick shake.
He disappears below the counter, “Oh, Blakely, I’m so happy you finally arrived.”
Dad left such a strong impression on everyone. He’s a great company other than being a hell of a tattoo artist. And I know Milo is one of his closest friends here.
“They have the same eyes,” a blonde woman pops out from where Milo exited a minute ago, pressing her hand to her heart. “I’m glad you joined us. I’m Donna.” Her warm appearance tugs at my heart.
My mom died before my first birthday so I have no memory of her. Sometimes, I wonder what it would’ve been like to grow up with a mother. Seeing older women often brings these thoughts to the surface. Dad never dated, stating he had to raise me and take care of the business—I want him to find companionship and not remain alone when I’m not around.
“My lovely wife,” he adds, shuffling between clinkingbottles.
An enamored gaze washes her expression and a sheepish grin pops afterward. “And he’s my lovely, messy husband with the biggest heart I know.”
Isn’t it the dream to be in this type of relationship?
“Donna, honey, where is the bottle of—” More bottles clink, “Never mind. Found it!”
“Messy!” She whispers to me, entirely amused by her husband. “Can I get you anything, honey?”
I grab a Pepsi Cola can from the cooler nearby, “I’ll take this.” I hand her a ten-dollar bill. “How long have you been married?”
“Thirty-four long, excruciating years,” he jokingly emphasizes each word.
She playfully slaps his shoulder, “So dramatic.”
“Your Dad brought you here when you were in diapers and when you grew up a little as well,” Milo says, still wrestling with the bottles.
“You always wanted to rev the bikes, you just ran toward them like a crazy little kitten.” Donna finishes.
I had no idea I was here before. “I don’t remember much.”
Donna tosses her palm down, “You were so little.”
“He told me about how he met my Mom here.” I take a few candies, signaling her to charge me for those as well.
“Those two were…”
“Hellfire.” Milo completes her sentence.
Donna snaps her fingers, “Exactly! So hot they could sear you from a mile away.”
According to Dad, they were. I wish I could witness them being completely themselves around each other like Donna and Milo. I wish I could meet Mom. I wish I could tell her how lucky she was almost to get run over by Dad. And how amazing he was with me in her absence.
“We just started.” She informs me in a soft tone. “The next days will be filled with adventures, you’ll see.”
I hope so because I really need to clear my head and collect new memories.
Milo straightens up, dropping two liquor bottles inside the box, “Alright! We’re all set.” His exuberant voice makes me laugh.
“Milo will show you where you can put your stuff for tomorrow and escort you to your preserved motel room.” Donna hands me the change, “Have a great afternoon, Blakely, I’m excited to spend some time with you this summer and meet Jim’s beloved daughter all grown up.”
“I appreciate that, Dad told me many stories about you two.”
“Scandalous,” she playfully replies and I giggle.
