“Mom, I've gained five pounds since I've been here. I promise I'm eating plenty. You saw that sausage restaurant. I've been there three times already.”
“But you had such big plans, and I know you want to spend some time in Austin. I'm surprised you didn't spend more time in some of the other big cities.”
“Momma, I promise I'll get to Austin. And I'm glad I got to see those big cities, but some of them were just too…overwhelming.”
“Well, if Atlanta was overwhelming, Los Angeles has got to be twice as big. You should come home. You're not gonna like Los Angeles.”
“You may be right, I might not like Los Angeles, but I'm not staying in Los Angeles. I'll be staying in Pasadena, which is a little smaller than Louisville. I'll be by the sequoias, so I can go hiking whenever.”
“But doesn't this mess up all the rest of your trip?”
“Actually, because I sped through everything else, I won't be too far behind once I get going again. And I can decide to take I-10 into LA and hit the Grand Canyon or Vegas another time. I'm just playing it as it lays.”
“What? Who says that? Playing it as it lays? That sounds like betting.”
It is, in fact, betting, but I don't tell her that.
“It's just a phrase I picked up, Momma.”
“I don't want all these places to change you.”
“Well, Momma, I kinda hope they do. I think traveling’s shown me things that I could've never learned in West Virginia. It makes me miss home, and it makes me miss the rivers and the trees, but it makes me so grateful that I got to meet the people I have along the way. You remember that lady I put in my video from the barbeque place?”
“Yes. She seemed real nice.”
“She was. And just as I was missing you and wondering why I decided this whole big adventure was a good idea to begin with, she gave me a Momma hug, one I was sorely missing, and told me to get a haircut.”
“She was right. And you still haven't gotten it trimmed.”
“I figured I'd wait till I got to LA. Have it in my budget to get myself a big fancy haircut when I get there so I look like I fit in.”
“Well, I still don't like it, but I'm glad that you’re enjoying yourself. And it's real lucky they had an empty apartment above the mechanic shop.”
“Yeah, Momma. Real lucky.”
Something shifts behind me, and I look up and find Carter looking down, his lips in a thin line. I mouth the wordsMomandspeakerphoneto him, and he nods his understanding. I don't think he likes that I'm hiding him, but I hope he understands.
As much as that fluttering part of my heart loves the idea of staying here, I know that by the end of it, I’ll have overstayed my welcome and will need to keep on moving. And I can't tell my mom about a temporary guy. She wouldn't understand the power of the one-off friendships and one-night stands I’ve found along the way.
Not that this is anything close to a one-night stand.
“Well, Momma, I've got to get back to it. I've got some things to do today. But I'll let you know when I'm on the move again. And I promise I'll get you some pictures of downtown Austin.”
“Okay then, Enoch. Just remember I love you, and you can always come home if you need to.”
“Thank you, Momma. I love you too, and I know.”
Carter sits down next to me on the top step and hands me another coffee, made just the way I like it. One thing I'll say about the man, he pays attention to the small details. If he does something in bed, just something off the cuff that lights me up, he remembers it and does it with intention the next time.
I take a sip of my coffee and look out into the woods beyond the shop, wondering about my next move.
“Enoch?” he asks, pushing his shoulder into mine.
“Yeah, that's my given name. Dad got to name Connor. Mom got to name me.”
“You have a brother?”
“Um. Yeah. I did.”
