A new song comes on the radio. I refuse to conform to the subscription services that all of my friends use, which means I’m constantly changing the station when commercials come on the air. Don’t get me wrong, I had all of them—music, streaming different apps to watch on a television that isn’t on very much to begin with, and then there are those for food deliveries. But I’d had enough and cut them all out.
It’s not like I had a lot of bills. The townhouse I live in is rent-free, courtesy of my brother, Rafe. He bought it when the housing market tanked, and while I had my own place before, once my lease was up, the tenants he had in it were moving out, which allowed me to slide right in. Still, I prefer to travel, and without the looming massive amount of rent, I’ve been able to. I’ve attempted to transfer money into my brother’s account in the earlier days, and he would send it back, then proceeded to send a text telling me to keep my money. Me living there and not fucking his place up that’s already paid for is enough for him.
Therefore, I squirrel money away monthly after paying my everyday living expenses, and when something breaks, I make sure it’s repaired or fixed. As for painting the place, well, I do that on my own. Maybe not the wall murals I’m paid to do on and in buildings. And while it can be monotonous rolling and cutting in one solitary color, it’s the least I can do.
“Finally,” I utter to myself when the blue signs direct me to a service station, food places, and a hotel, the last of which I won’t be using. My goal is to drive a few more hours, get to my destination, and prepare myself for the next couple of days. The commission piece I’m working on is for a downtown area,on the outside of a building, which is part of their beautification process, and will more than likely take me a couple of weeks to work on.
They also gave me carte blanche as long as it stays within a certain scheme, which is part of the reason I’m getting there a few days earlier. I want to study the atmosphere, pick up on the vibes, create a sketch, and make sure it’s okay with the historic board in the downtown area.
I flip up my blinker, being careful to merge into the right lane, and manage to hear my phone vibrate in the cup holder. I glance down for a moment, and when I realize it’s Rafe, I immediately turn the music down and roll the windows up. There are still another two miles before my exit appears, but I like to be in my lane even if that means reducing my speed significantly. As soon as I’m secure, I press the green button, find the speaker phone, and answer Rafe’s call.
“Hey, big brother.” The road noise will more than likely echo through the car, but it’s better than hearing myself speak with the way this Bluetooth works. I swear it’s already awkward hearing yourself speak through a message, but when it amplifies throughout a closed-in area, it’s ten times worse.
“Hey, baby sis, you about there for the night?” I sent him a text when I hit the road earlier in the morning, unaware of the time difference. Because when you’re in the branch he’s serving and doing whatever it is he does, information isn’t given freely.
“Not yet. I may have made a few stops along the way and perused a flea market, then I found a hot dog stand on the side of the road.” Rafe scoffs at the last part. I’ve never met a food truck I didn’t love, and I’m not afraid of trying things most people wouldn’t.
“You’re going to get food poisoning one day, and then what?”
“Then I’ll hug the porcelain thrown and swear on everything there is I’ll learn my lesson, except we both know that’s a bigfat lie. Plus, this one had a line nearly a mile long. Surely, that means it’s all above board.” The line wasn’t that long, but it did have me quenching a thirst and starving enough to get two hot dogs, French fries, and a bottle of water.
“Sure, keep telling yourself that. What’s your ETA?” He’s about to go in full-blown big brother mode, and there isn’t shit I can do about it. I slow down as I take my exit. Sandwiched in between two semi-trucks means being cradled in their tailwind, if memory serves me correctly.
“Well, about that. I’m getting off at an exit an hour away. I need gas, a Diet Coke, and a restroom break.” I didn’t realize the last one until the sudden urge hit.
“That shit is terrible for you.” My fingers tap on the steering wheel while I search for the most well-lit, busiest spot in the hopes I’ll be able to get a pump directly in front of the door. Between Rafe and the never-ending small video clips he sends me, I’m well equipped with everything a single woman could need: a mace, a hammer that can knock glass out and cut off my seatbelt, which also doubles as a weapon, and making sure to keep my keys threaded between my fingers. There’s also that whole keeping your head on a swivel, don’t remove anything from the outside of your car, and make sure your phone doesn’t pick up any kind of air tags or tiles.
“Says the man who drinks a pot of black coffee a day, before he hits the energy drinks. Do you even drink water?” I throw back at him.
“Gave up energy drinks. Not like we’ve got them at the ready where we are, sis.” That narrows it down to exactly five hundred locations, easily, and that's why I quit racking my brain to try to figure out where he is.
All I know is when he’s home, he’ll debrief a little bit, though he never goes in depth, only giving me enough, mainly which country he was stationed and the barest of reasons why.
“Do you need another care package?” I ask, worrying my bottom lip. It’s been a few months since I’ve sent him one, and I’ll do it again. But Rafe told me to hold off because he and his team were being moved elsewhere, and he said he’d let me know when they were settled. If you can even call it that. I’m already counting down the months till he’ll be stateside for at least a few weeks.
“Nah, Mox’s family has one on the way. You can send one to the next round. I might even put a few requests in.”
“Okay, now I’m at a loss for words.” I turn into the gas station, idling off to the side. It’s not every day I get this version of my brother. A lot of our calls are short, sweet, and to the point.
“That’s saying something, since you can keep going without taking a breath.” I hear a loud siren go off in the background, alerting me that our time is coming to an end, or that’s what usually happens.
“Yeah, yeah. Let me know whatever you need. I just got to the gas station. I’ll let you know when I’m in my hotel room for the night.”
“Thanks. Gotta go. Love you, sis.” Yep, I knew it. And while I hate that our conversation is coming to an end, I get it.
“Anytime. I love you, too. Please be safe.” We hang up at the same time. I take a deep breath, roll my shoulders, and go about my business, knowing full well I won’t be able to think about much else than my brother until he checks in again.
4
Sable
“Oh no.” I look down at my dashboard a little over an hour later, after taking care of gassing up, grabbing a large Diet Coke with extra ice, and, of course, using the facilities. Luckily, it didn’t take me long to get back on the road, but it also had my body groaning after a long day of traveling.
I’m tempted to call my brother, but the number he called me from earlier today was anonymous. Which means there isn’t a line for me to use, and I’m not using the emergency contact Rafe told me to use for any reason possible. Hello? That didn’t and still doesn’t make any sense at all. It’s called an emergency contact for a reason.
Luckily, I’m off the interstate after taking my exit and am heading directly into Whispering Oaks, when my temperature gauge heads in the direction of scorching hot. I think fast, rolling down my windows immediately and turning off the air conditioning while looking for the nearest mechanic shop in town.
“We can do it, Betty White, come on. Don’t fail me now,” I tell my SUV, aptly named after one of my favorite Golden Girls. She has yet to fail me in the nearly ten years I’ve owned her. She’s needed routine maintenance, oil changes, new tires, brakes, and the like, but she never did something like overheating.
