Now Wouldn't You Like to Know (5 page)

Though I had been relegated to the sofa for the night I was all right with that. It looked to be a comfortable sleep. Being a Sunday, I expected traffic to be light. Covering myself I drifted off to sleep.

M
y aunt’s delicious tasting country breakfast was more or less a sweet and delectable memory now as we exchanged hugs and bade one another goodbye. My uncle, a deacon at his church, delivered a short prayer for our safe journey, handed us two carryout containers of sandwiches and tossed salad my aunt had prepared for us, then Diana and I climbed up into the Navigator and drove off.

Once we merged onto I-95 I set the cruising speed at 75mph and put on a CD of soulful 90s tunes. I was in the mood for some foot stomping music. I felt cheerful and was happy to get this show on the road, as they say.

The first selection to play was
Next Time
by Gladys Knight. It was an upbeat song with a powerful kickass bass line. In time Diana and I found ourselves singing and bobbing our heads along with the chorus…
next time, next time, next time, baby next time, ain’t the one to wait for
, we sang. To my pleasant surprise, Diana had a great singing voice.

Twenty minutes into our ride I turned the music down to check my phone. No messages or calls had come through since I left Orlando the day before. Diana checked hers and discovered four additional calls from Jack. This time she decided not to listen to his voicemails. But she drew quiet after that.

“So, how did you enjoy your stay at my people’s home?” I asked in an attempt to engage her in conversation. I didn’t want her feeling distressed and looking sullen for the duration of the trip.

“Sheldon, I really enjoyed myself,” she said perking up. “I just adore your aunt and uncle. They’re really good people. And I needed a good night’s rest.”

“Well, I’m glad that you enjoyed yourself,” I replied, glancing over at her.

“I’m just delighted that I had the opportunity to meet your family and enjoy myself,” she said, looking off into the distance. “I’ve been so depressed the past five months.”

“Seeing you, I couldn’t tell that you were depressed,” I injected.

“Oh, I’m pretty good at disguising it,” she replied pointedly. “But when I am alone, it comes tumbling down on me and all at once. The anxiety alone is enough to drain a person emotionally.”

“I have to say, you hide it quite well. Listen, can I ask you something?” I said in an attempt to change the subject.

“What?” she asked softly.

“You never told me what you do for a living.”

“You know, I don’t think I did,” she murmured with a blank look. “I am an aerospace engineer.”

“Naah, you’re kidding me, aren’t you?” I gaped, unconvinced.

“No, I am not kidding,” she said as she reached inside of her purse and pulled out an ID card with her photo on it and the company name
Cobalt Aerospace Corporation
– Associate Engineer – Diana Lynn Cannon. “I’m on leave right now. Three weeks of it, to be exact.”

“Well, you don’t say,” I said smiling, delighted that she had peeled back another layer of her life for me to see. Yes, another dimension for me to ponder and explore. “And you thought that I was the brainy type.”

“You are, but I can be brainy as well, when I want to be,” she said with a chuckle. “But I’m usually that way at work, not outside of it. They say some men do not like smart women.”

“I don’t have any problems like that,” I said.

“Thank goodness,” she came back.

“Ain’t that something, an aerospace engineer,” I repeated with a wide grin. “Damn, I just don’t believe it. Actually, I thought you were going to say something like an orthopedic doctor, a heart surgeon, or X-ray technician.”

“Your aunt didn’t doubt me one second,” she said.

“Hey, I’m not doubting you whatsoever, I’m just surprised, happily surprised that is,” I said attempting to get back in her good grace. “So, you told my aunt before you told me. But that’s all right.”

“It’s all good Mr. Pierce. At least you kept your career choices for me at a respectable level,” she said. “You could have said nightclub dancer, masseuse, or bimbo receptionist.”

“Yes, I guess I could have,” I tossed back playfully. “But your remarkable intelligence is quite obvious. That I knew from the moment I first lay eyes on you.”

“Then why did you have such a hard time believing that I could be an aerospace engineer?”

“Like I said, I knew you were intelligent all along, I –”

“– I’m just teasing you Sheldon. Everything’s copasetic.”

“So where’s your car, if I may ask? Surely someone who designs spacecraft and space stations can drive.”

“Yes, I can drive, and quite well, thank you,” she replied looking over at me pointedly. “And for your information, I own a two year old $80,000 Mercedes. I bought it new. But it’s in the body shop for some custom work I am having done on it, along with a new paint job.”

“You mean to tell me that you have a practically brand new Mercedes Benz and it’s in the body shop for some custom work and a new paint job, already?” I cried out.
God, she’s beautiful and intelligent but still a woman hard to please
, I thought.

“Look, I didn’t like the color so I decided to change it. The interior wasn’t quite the way I wanted it so that’s being attended to. What’s wrong with that?” she quipped.

“Hey, it makes sense to me,” I replied with a chuckle.

“You amuse yourself, don’t you,” she said, breaking into a light chuckle herself.

By now a Jill Scott tune came on. It was a song entitled
Living My Life Like It’s Golden
. The songstress hailed from Philadelphia.

“Hey, that’s my gal! That’s my song!” Diana roared. “Please, can you turn it up?”

“Sure thing,” I replied as I upped the volume some twenty decibels louder.

Once again, as we cruised along the interstate, the two of us found ourselves singing along with the music as the countryside around us raced by. In addition to singing, Diana clapped her hands spiritedly. With my free hand, I pounded the dash as though it was a drum. It was such an inspiring and upbeat song, and one with an arresting beat, that we played it twice. Inside I was content to get Diana’s mind off of her situation with Jack. But for how long, I did not know. If only there was a way to lose her phone. Now that would solve both of our problems.

As we approached the Florida state line, we spotted several US Border Patrol armor vehicles positioned on the grassy median like predators ready to pounce on their prey, along with several Florida State Trooper cruisers and several Homeland Security patrol cars. A sign of the times, I imagined. Less than a minute after that intimidating sight we entered the fine state of Georgia.

Chapter 4

P
arking the car at one of several pumping stations at a travel center, we exited the Navigator, both of us stretching and yawning. You would have thought that we had been up all night. Though we were only three miles into the Peach state, I had developed an insatiable taste for a cream doughnut and something with caffeine in it to help keep me alert. Diana just wanted to stretch her legs and grab a dark chocolate bar with almonds and something to read. So we decided to pull off of the interstate and gas up and purchase a few items.

Putting on my sunglasses I stared in silence as she tugged at her short skirt, then stopped when she spied me looking at her.
Damn, the legs on that woman
, I thought.

“Hey, you get an eyeful?’ she asked, looking back at me with a coy smile.

“An eyeful of what?” I said, pretending ignorance.

“Of this,” she quipped, turning around in a way that showcased her scrumptious looking legs and round bottom before strutting off. I just stood there and shook my head murmuring
‘Lawd have mercy’
before I followed in her wake. Women, I thought.

Inside of the travel center I made my way to the men’s room. Once I had taken care of personal business, I went after the items I had come inside the center for. With a cup of cappuccino in hand and a fresh cream-filled doughnut in a bag, I made my way over to the counter. I didn’t see Diana at first but looking towards the front entrance I saw her just outside of it and talking on her cellphone. Three people were ahead of me so I had little choice but to wait.

Once I was through at the counter I exited the center. Looking around I found Diana waiting by the Navigator. Approaching her, I unlocked the doors remotely then entered on the driver’s side. “You brought something to read, I see,” I said, looking at what she was holding in her hand.

“Just a local newspaper,” she replied curtly.

“Did you get yourself a candy bar?”

“It’s in my purse.”

“Listen, while inside I ordered a car wash, so after we gas up, we’re going through the carwash, okay?”

“Sure,” she murmured half-heartedly, her eyes averted.

Exiting the SUV I walked over to the gas pump and took the nozzle in hand and topped off the tank. Once inside of the SUV I drove over to entrance of the drive-thru carwash. Punching in the six digit code I waited for the green light to summon me inside. Once I got the go ahead, I drove the Navigator into position. Almost immediately, a red light flashed on and the carwash began.

“What’s wrong Diana?” I asked, turning to face her.

“Nothing,” she answered with a wince.

“Something’s wrong,” I insisted. “You haven’t said three words to me since you came out of the store.”

“I know,” she admitted to my surprise.

“You talked to him didn’t you?”

She nodded her head once and slowly.

“But why would you do that, Diana?”

“Look, he called me, Sheldon,” she said, facing me with moist eyes.

“But why would you answer it if you knew that it was him?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, her voice strained.

Grimacing, I shook my head in disbelief.

“Sheldon, he told me that if I didn’t return to Orlando he was going to kill my cat, Tommy.” By now she was sobbing.

“What a sick bastard,” I said angrily. “You know, I am of the mind to turn around right now and go back to Orlando and show this asshole a thing or two.”

“Please Sheldon,” Diana pleaded with me. “Let’s not go back. I don’t want any trouble between you two. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Hey, I appreciate the concern, I really do, but it is your fiancé you need to be worrying about.”

“Please can we just forget about it and head north?”

I took a moment to ponder her plead before saying, “Listen Diana, it’s not my intent to upset you or put restrictions on you, but you have to promise me something.”

“What?”

“You have to promise me that you will turn that damn phone off and not call or talk to Jack until after we get to Philadelphia and I’m out of the picture, okay?”

“You’re the one who’s upset,” she said frowning slightly.

“Not only am I upset, I’m a little pissed off,” I snapped back. “I see what this guy is doing to you and it’s just rubbing me the wrong way.”

Looking away, her eyes swollen red with sadness, anxiety, and pain, she said, “Okay, I won’t talk to him again. I promise.”

“Listen Diana, I’m not mad at you. Honestly, I’m not. Please understand that,” I said in as calm a voice I could summon, though it sounded a tab strained. “But this asshole is terrorizing you and the way I see it, you’re letting him.”

“You know, you’re right, you’re absolutely right,” she broke in, gazing beyond the slow dripping red, white, and blue cleaning foam as though she was in a trance. If she was, the sudden high pressure water streaming down the sides of the SUV brought her back to reality.

“Look, why don’t we just forget about this whole scene,” I suggested, touching her arm gently with my hand. “I don’t really think he’s going to harm your cat. I really don’t.”

Turning to face me she said, “I hope you’re right Sheldon.”

With the carwash completed, I drove the Navigator out of the wash chamber. Within minutes we were back on the I-95 corridor. The music was good, the scenery was great, and the weather just right. Unfortunately, Diana remained solemn for much of the drive. In my infinite wisdom, I did not press her for a conversation. It was a long drive and I sensed that she would eventually come around. Until then, I would wait until she was ready to talk. In the meantime, I listened to a CD selection named
Funkin For
Jamaica
by trumpeter Tom Brown.

An hour later we passed just outside of Savannah, Georgia and fifteen minutes after that we finally entered the fine state of South Carolina. The tall and stately brick structures set in a crescent shape formation; just behind the colorful landscaping as you crossed into the state, was eye pleasing. It was magnificent, a befitting floral and structural welcome monument, or gate, for all who passed through it.

E
ighty miles into South Carolina the tension between us subsided. And boy was I glad. Driving for as long as I had been driving was difficult enough but not having her speak to me was unbearable at times. When this woman clammed up she really clammed up.

“I’m getting hungry, Sheldon,” she announced after letting out a mild yawn, her right hand cupping her month. It was the first words I heard her speak in over an hour and half. But I was thankful for them.

“You know we still have sandwiches and tossed salad back there in the ice cooler.”

“I know, but can we save that for this evening? I need something warm right now.”

“Sure. Where would you like to eat lunch?” I asked.

“Do you like Cracker Barrel?”

“Sure do,” I said, glancing over at her.

“Can we stop at the next one we get to,” she asked, finally looking my way.

“And if we don’t see one anytime soon, what’s your other preference?”

“Denny’s or KFC,” she answered.

“Okay, that sounds fine to me.” With that I steered the Navigator over into the left lane and accelerated until I had reached 80mph. With ease, I passed the next five cars in succession. After that, I returned to the middle lane and reduced my speed to 73mph. This speed should keep the Smokies at bay, I reasoned.