I was almost asleep again—back to my sweet, dreamland kisses—when I heard him mumbling. His mumbling quickly turned to audible words, and I could tell his voice was shaky with tears.
My heart broke. Shattered into a million fractals.
He prayed for me.
Through tears, he prayed.
For me.
I still can’t wrap my mind around it. His faith is strong, unlike that of so many others I see around me who claim to follow God. Braxton Rawls means what he says and lives his life in that way.
I would love to serve the God that Braxton does—to experience the constant joy that illuminates from him. Maybe life would feel a bit more meaningful. But that God has dealt me nothing but sour pickles in life.
Shaking off the myriad of emotions, I continue to apply my makeup. It’s all just that time of the month, remember? Nothing to dwell too long on.
Besides, Braxton is in for a treat with our next stop on this road trip.
OrmaybeIwasthe one in for a surprise.
After our navigation app said there was a detour due to interstate repairs, we took a two-lane highway that led us to The Middle Of Nowhere, USA. To be completely honest, if we would have continued following the GPS, we would have been fine. We would have made it back onto the interstate.
But I am Hadley Dawson, and I am directionally challenged.
“Say it one more time.” Braxton smirks with a tilt of his head, his arms folded across his chest showing way too much muscle to be legal underneath thin heather gray short sleeves.
“I am Hadley Dawson, and I am directionally challenged.” I breathe the words as we stand on the side of the road with a slash in the front passenger tire from the cracked, unpaved road. The trees are thick, the sun waning, my phone is dead, and the road is a dead end. “We’re going to be murdered here. So if you’re done taunting me, I’d like to try and find a way back to society.”
“I’ve called the closest mechanic shop I could find, Dawson. They said they’ll be here in an hour.”
“But wasn’t that like an hour ago?” I complain. He shakes his head and turns on his heel. He’s been pacing a trench in the already rubbled road.
“It was like two minutes ago.” He stops, walks back to his truck, and lets the tailgate down. Then he grabs his guitar from the back seat and hops on the tailgate. As he props the mahogany guitar on his lap and begins to tune it, I forget I’m supposed to be worried about a sociopathic murderer looming in the thicket.
He plays a rhythmic melody that rises and falls like the seasons. A sound of rebirth, endless summers, falling leaves, and then joyous death after a life well-lived. My fears are locked away, trapped beneath the strums of his finger.
“What song is that?” I ask, not familiar with the tune. And I listen to a lot of music.
“Something new I’m working on.”
“Am I the muse?” I twist my shoulders back and forth and flip my hair. I’m poking fun, but he stops mid-strum and looks at me with the hint of a smile. My antics reside as I get lost in his nature-green eyes. The sunset behind us does wonders to this man’s eyes.
“You’re always my muse,” he says in a voice that reminds me of a wounded animal. I don’t know what to do with that piece of information. Mostly because it felt way too real to be coming from the lips of my best friend.
“Wait. Shouldn’t you have a spare tire?” I ask, redirecting the conversation. He lets out an exasperated laugh and the music stops.
“I should, shouldn’t I? But someone never replaced it after she borrowed my truck and blew a tire out while I was offshore because her own car was down.”
“I didn’t know I was responsible for replacing it!”
“You weren’t.” He laughs. My eyes follow his hand as it splays against the body of the guitar. “But you were responsible for reminding me before this trip.”
“I was planning to take my car,” I mumble.
“But poor Hadley can’t drive. She targets trash cans and innocent animals. And we can’t forget she’s directionally challenged.” His laughter is inviting, even through the insults. I find myself chuckling along.
I mean, he’s not wrong about any of it.
In the silence that follows, he begins to strum another song. Another unfamiliar tune.
