Arizona Heat (2 page)

I touch down in Phoenix at around four and make my way to the rental car area. This morning I called my dad to let him know I’d be coming and he was surprised to say the least. I wasn't shocked when he said no one could pick me up from the airport until later so I assured him I would just get a rental car. He and my step-mom drive to work in the morning so I’ll need a car to get around on my own if I want to sightsee anyway. As I wait for my bags, I shake my head as I recall my conversation with Simon before I left.

“What are you still doing awake?
”
I ask, watching Simon in a daze as he stares at the TV. It’s amazing how his hands can move so fast when the rest of his body is so still. “Earth to Simon,
”
I say, waving my hand in front of his face. Nothing. “Simon, I’m going to Arizona tomorrow. I’m going to pack my bags now.
”
He doesn't even grumble or anything, just sits there in a trance. I shake my head, too tired to convince him to talk to me. It takes twenty minutes to throw some clothes and toiletries in a bag. I don’t need much and my family doesn't care what I look like. Crawling into bed, I wonder if Simon will eventually stumble in or if it’s another night on the couch.

“Where are you going?
”
Simon asks as I place my suitcase by the door.

“Arizona,
”
I say simply.

“When were you going to tell me?
”
he asks, annoyed.

“I told you last night,
”
I say, physically restraining myself from trying to strangle him.

“You did?
”
he asks, trying to recall my words.

“Yes.”

“How long will you be gone?
”
I’m surprised to find he looks a little sad.

“I don’t know yet. I got a good deal on a one-way ticket so I’ll look for another good deal and buy one to come home when I am ready.”

“Okay.”

That’s it? All I get is an okay? Not “I’ll miss you
”
or “have a good time.
”
He didn't even ask what I’d be doing there or why I’m going. For all he knows I could be flying to Cancun to have a hot affair with a bell hop or something. Not that he would care. I’m sure I’ll find him on the couch exactly where I left him when I return home. He walks up to the door and I think he’s going to help me with my bags. Instead he places a soft kiss on my lips that tastes like Cheetos and walks back over to the sofa.

I shoot Simon a text that I have arrived safely knowing it will be approximately three days before I get a response. The lady at the Hertz counter wears a polite smile but I can tell she is annoyed when I ask her for the cheapest car they have.

“Where is the destination you will be dropping the vehicle off?”

“Um, Sedona.”

“What day will you be dropping it off?”

“Um, I, uh, not sure,
”
I stutter and she gives me a confused sideways glare.

“Just give me an estimate,
”
she sighs.

“A week, I guess.”

“Great,
”
she says, typing some stuff into the computer. A bunch of papers print out and she sticks a key into a thick envelope. “Bring it back with the tank full.”

I walk out of the rental car place and am greeted by the hot afternoon sun. Slipping on a pair of Ray Bans, I follow an attendant out to a little black Jetta and eye the car suspiciously. It has rust creeping its way from the undercarriage to the door panels, there appears to be a handle missing from the passenger side door, and I notice a poor attempt at concealing duct tape on the bumper.

“Is it safe?
”
I ask warily.

“I assure you that Rebecca works perfectly fine. She’s just got a few quirks here and there. The clutch sticks a little and the passenger side window doesn't roll down. Besides that, she runs like new.”

I did ask for the cheapest car. There is no one to blame for this but myself.

“You name all three hundred rental cars?
”
I ask with a smirk.

“No, just Rebecca, she’s lucky,
”
he says with a wink.

Rebecca, the lucky Jetta.

I turn the keys and Rebecca revs to life. There is a slight rattle coming from the engine that I’m pretty sure isn't supposed to be there but I pull out of the car lot anyway. I have to turn up the radio to drown out Rebecca’s protests as we accelerate down the highway.

The structure of school and mundane activities of my day to day life in the city have taken a toll on my spirit. I decide right there that this trip will be enjoyed in the same way it was planned: spontaneously. Rolling down the window, I let the breeze into the car and with nothing but the open road ahead of me, all of my troubles wash away as I watch the sun shine over the sandy hills of my Arizona skyline.

“Hi dad,
”
I say, toting my luggage behind me. “You just get home?
”
I ask, watching him tinker with something under the hood of his truck.

“Hi honey,
”
he says, wiping some grease on his pants before wrapping me in a hug. He smells like home and my foul mood from the last few weeks is instantly gone. “I just got home a few minutes ago. There was something rattling around in the radiator and I’m trying to figure out what it is.”

“Need some help?”

“Oh, no thank you sweetheart. You go on inside and freshen up before dinner.”

I walk through the front door and am greeted by a big pile of fur. “Chiquita!
”
I yell. She knocks me onto my butt as her big wrinkly face places wet kisses on my cheeks. Her mammoth paws pin me to the cold tile and I laugh as she plops down right on top of me.

“Chiquita, come,
”
I hear my step-mom’s firm voice call from across the room. Chiquita hops off me and trots over to Holly, sitting diligently at her feet.

“Still thinks she's a pomeranian?
”
I ask, brushing some dirt off my pants.

“Well, your father had to go and name her Chiquita so of course she thinks she’s small.
”
Holly rolls her eyes.

“It is a silly name for a mastiff,
”
I comment.

“We’re so glad you decided to take a trip down here,
”
she smiles. “Dinner will be ready any minute.”

I go into my old bedroom and lay out my suitcase on a bench at the end of the bed. Chiquita strolls in behind me and just as I lift the cover she climbs onto the bench and settles in on top of my clothes.

“Oh no you don’t, down,
”
I say but she just looks at me with a dopey grin. “Down,
”
I say again, more forcefully this time. Nothing. I fall onto the bed and she finally gets off my suitcase to curl into a ball next to me. I wrap an arm around her and relish the warmth. “Chiquita, this is the closest contact I’ve had with another mammal in months.”

Holly calls that dinner is ready and I quickly change my shirt before splashing some water on my face. My dad is already at the table when I get to the dining room, writing fiercely at a crossword puzzle. It’s actually really annoying how quickly he can finish them. I sit down next to him as Holly finishes putting the last bowl of food on the table.

“That’s the car Hertz gave you?
”
my dad asks.

“In their defense, I asked for the cheapest car they had,
”
I say.

“It doesn't look safe to drive. I’ll take a look at it.”

“Don’t you touch her rental car,
”
Holly scolds.

“She’ll bring it back fixed up and they won’t even have to pay for it,
”
my dad shrugs.

“They’re going to charge her more money if she brings it back different from how she got it.”

“If it’s fixed then I don't see what the problem is,
”
he argues.

“Holly, how are the fifth graders doing?
”
I ask, interrupting their argument.

“They’re so good,
”
she gushes. Holly fills me in on everything they are reading and tells me about how different they all are. “There’s actually a play tonight at the school that I was going to drag your father to. You should come.”

“Absolutely,
”
I smile. I love watching kids try to act. It’s adorably terrible.

“Great,
”
she says. “My niece and nephew are in the play. Do you remember Paul and Tina?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll get to see how grown up they are now. Paul is graduating sixth grade and is too cool for everyone. His voice cracks all the time and it’s hilarious.”

So it’s my second night of freedom and I’m going to a children's play. Not exactly what I had in mind but a little surprise is exactly what I need. After months of structure I’m ready to just let go, see where life takes me. For once I want to see what happens if I don’t plan my next step. I want to take the path less traveled, live serendipitously, and other crap like that.

I’m not really sure what one wears to a children’s play. I decide to do a more in-depth freshening up after dinner while my dad does the dishes. A black sundress catches my eye at the top of my suitcase. I pair it with some sandals and a white sweater. My blonde hair is all out of sorts and flat on one side from napping on the plane. I tie it in a loose bun, letting the curls do whatever they want before moving on to my face. I’ve already got a little color on my cheeks from the drive so I decide to leave the makeup to a minimum besides a bold red lip.

“You look so grown up,
”
my dad says. I glance down at his snakeskin cowboy boots tucked under his dirty jeans and smile.

“Thanks,
”
I say, tucking my arm under his. We walk out to the truck and pile in. I’m thankful he rides with the windows down so I can feel the warm breeze on my face. It’s not that New York isn’t warm in the spring and hot in the summer, but it has got nothing on Arizona.

We pull up to a small school in a collection of auburn soaked hills. It smells like adolescence and reminds me of when I was small. Not that I remember being that little, just bits and pieces, but the echo of the hallway brings nostalgia nonetheless. We walk through double doors into a small auditorium where proud parents and bored siblings sit scattered about the room. A larger man with a shiny bald head comes hauling toward us with the biggest grin. He and my dad begin exchanging hellos and once he glances in my direction, he does a double take.

“This cannot be little Josephine,
”
he says, shaking his head with wide eyes.

“Josie is all grown up,
”
my dad nods with a proud smile. “You remember Mr. Lewis?
”
Oh shit, it’s Reagan’s dad.
I haven't seen him since I was a kid. My dad mentioned him once or twice on the phone but I didn't realize they were good friends.

“Of course I remember you, Mr. Lewis. How have you been?”

“Aren’t you the sweetest thing? I’ve been great darlin
’
and what have you been up to all these years? Your daddy says you’re in med school.”

“Yes, I just finished my finals so I came for a visit,
”
I say, admiring the kindness in his eyes.

“How long are you in town for?”

“I don’t know yet. I bought a one-way ticket so I’m just going to see where the trip takes me.”

“Well, Reagan is around here somewhere, we should get together after the show. We could get some ice cream with the kids.
”
Reagan is
here
? In
this
school
right
now? I hate how star-struck I feel at the thought of being in the same building as him. He’s just a person, like anyone else. Calm down.

“That’d be great,
”
Holly interjects, saving me from the awkward look of awe surly plastered on my face. I take a minute to text Francesca. She’s gonna freak.

Josie: Just wanted to let you know I’ll be going out for ice cream with Reagan Lewis later, no big deal.

Francesca: Shut the fuck up you lying whore.

Josie: I’m as serious as I was that night when we almost walked all the way to Coney Island to hop the fence.

Francesca: Soooooo not serious at all?

Josie: I was serious! It’s not my fault you took two steps outside the dorm and barfed.

Francesca: We don’t discuss that, remember? Take a picture liar.

The play is as adorable as I imagined it in my head. They did an abbreviated version of Peter Pan. It was a full half hour of kids forgetting their lines and singing out of tune. When they finished, the crowd roared louder than some Broadway shows I’ve been to. The students line up to take their bows, some tripping over costumes and others just sitting on the floor, too tired to continue. I can feel the huge smile plastered on my face as Tina stumbles onto the stage in a little Tinker Bell costume, her wings now falling off her back and dragging on the floor.

“She did great,
”
I tell Holly over the applause.

“She’s been practicing for weeks,
”
Holly says with a proud smile.

The children make their way offstage and are replaced by the music teacher. She signals for the applause to come to an end and everyone begins taking their seats. “Thank you everyone so much for coming,
”
she begins with her hands clasped together. “There were so many people involved in the making of this production and we couldn't have done it without you. The children have been so excited to show you all of their hard work and now we have a little surprise for you.
”
A surprise? So far so good at a vacation full of the unexpected. “Sedona native, Reagan Lewis, has been working on a song with the cast and if it’s okay with everyone, they’d like to perform it for you.”

The crowd goes nuts as the music teacher exits the stage. The lights dim and a dark figure emerges from behind the curtain. Cell phone screens illuminate the auditorium as every teenage girl in the audience starts recording. The shuffle of tiny feet follow Reagan as he takes a seat on a stool in front of a microphone. The children line up behind him as he slings an acoustic guitar over his shoulder and runs a hand through his black hair. A spotlight turns on, illuminating his face, and the females in the audience sigh. I chuckle to myself and wonder if that gets annoying. The poor light job casts heavy shadows on his face, adding to his already mysterious aura. He begins to strum his guitar and the room falls silent.

I’ve never really listened to his music, especially recently. When word first broke of his band getting popular, I spent a little time looking up YouTube videos and trying to get into his music but it wasn’t really my thing. I like the songs that make it to the radio but beyond that, Reagan’s band never really did anything for me.

He starts to sing and the sound of his voice echoing against the walls sends a shiver through my entire body. I don’t even listen to his words after the initial shock. There is something so raw about the way he sounds in the simplicity of the small auditorium. I wonder how I could have missed the amount of soul in his voice all these years.

At the chorus, the children onstage sing along with Reagan, their high pitched voices complimenting his deep raspy voice beautifully. A handful of members in the audience sing along softly and I feel an unexpected pang of jealously. I wish I had listened to his music more so I could feel a part of this experience. Instead I sit stilled, in silent awe, wishing I knew the lyrics. The song ends and the audience does another standing ovation. Reagan steps to the side and gestures toward the line of students behind him. People start to whistle and the kids take turns bowing.

We step outside and I can’t believe how warm it is even though the sun has long since set. Mr. Lewis waits beside us, chatting with my dad about something that happened at Larry’s Hardware involving a band saw. I stop listening because I have a feeling the story is about to take a turn for the worst. Tina comes running over to us, wings now dragging entirely on the dirt, and leaps into Holly’s arms.

“You did so good Tina,
”
she beams and Tina blushes. Paul comes trailing behind in a onesie with an expression of disinterest. He folds his arms, not speaking a word to anybody. Oh, the perils of adolescence.

“Great costume Paul,
”
I smirk, unable to help myself from poking fun at him.

“Thanks,
”
he grumbles.

“You did a very convincing Lost Boy,
”
Holly chimes in. He just nods and begins taking the onesie off, leaving him in shorts and a t-shirt. I hear squeals of excitement and turn to see a cluster of young girls swarming one Reagan Lewis. He does his best to look amused but his eyes look tired. Mr. Lewis walks over to get the girls away from him but Reagan just shakes his head and continues signing their objects and taking pictures.

I notice them handing him everything from cell phone covers to the backs of receipt paper. They appear to be pulling arbitrary objects out of their purses and handing them to him. Kudos to Reagan for putting up with it. I think I would have drop kicked one of them a long time ago.

As the cluster of swooning girls dissipates, Reagan and Mr. Lewis make their way over to us, whispering something to each other. Reagan shakes his head and glances up, looking right at me watching him. My cheeks get red and I feel like a voyeur caught in the act. Glancing in any direction but his, I fumble with something in my bag. I find my phone and check to see if Francesca has texted me back but am surprised to find a text from Simon.

Simon: Miss you.

What the hell? I know I shouldn't be surprised to find an affectionate text from my fianc
é
but it’s very unSimon-like. I decide to send a quick text to Francesca for her input. Maybe I left and he actually realized that he’d miss me if I was gone. This trip might be a good thing. It might slap some sense back into him.

“Josie? Everything okay?
”
Holly asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Huh,
”
I mumble as I realize I’ve been entranced with my phone for an uncertain amount of time. When I look up, Reagan is two feet from my face and holy crap is he hot. His jaw is tight and his brown eyes are so dark they could be black. His hair is pushed out of his face, grazing the back of his neck, and I resist the urge to glance down at the rest of him but I don’t want to look like more of a staring creep.

“Reagan, you remember little Josephine?
”
Mr. Lewis asks.

“Not really,
”
he shrugs.
Okay
. I know I was quiet in high school but there weren't that many people there. Oh right, he’s moderately famous and therefore better than the rest of us.

“You used to play games at my house with my brother,
”
I say, but he just shakes his head. “We went to high school together,
”
I add, but it doesn't seem to help jog his memory. “I probably had my nose in a book so it doesn’t surprise me that you don't remember me,
”
I shrug, giving up. He doesn't know who I am. That’s cool. Definitely didn't just hurt my feelings.

“I think I remember, you just look a lot older,
”
he offers but I think he’s just trying to not sound like a dick.

“That is generally what happens to people over time,
”
I say and I think I see a smile forming on his face.

“Who’s ready for ice cream?
”
Holly asks, airing the tension between us.

Asshole doesn't remember me then that’s fine. I don't like his music anyway.