The Grandfather Clock (5 page)

“
So, I got a text from
Rolando last night. Said you were talking about me. At 2
a.m.”

Bastard. I hung my head. “It was a
long night. I just mentioned to Pick that I’d seen you and they ran
with it. I told him not to...”

“
It’s cool. Just giving
you a hard time.”

“
They wanted to call
you.”

“
But you didn’t want
to...”

“
It was late. We were not
entirely coherent.”

“
So, when you shoving off,
back to F.L.A.?”

“
Tomorrow. First stop,
Santa Fe, see my folks.”

Vince and his family arrived just in
time to save me. Erica tried to comp my drink again, and I left her
$5. I wasn’t sure that was an insult, since a draft beer plus tip
would be $5 anyway, or if she was pocketing the entire $5. I was
second-guessing everything I said and did. I’d been with Christie
so long, I had no idea what to do with this mild flirtation. When
you have a girlfriend, flirting is easy, because you know it will
go exactly nowhere. When you’re single, there is the supposed
chance of something more. That is precisely what makes single guys
so often hapless. A guy who is in a relationship is void of anxiety
and this is mistaken for confidence. That is why I was able to
calmly enjoy a cold beer with three beautiful bridesmaids across
the table from me. This is why they said I looked like a movie
star. That doesn’t happen to single guys.

I made it back to my hotel early. It
was good to spend time with my brother and I wished I could see him
more. I knew he was disappointed. I packed my bag, was happy to
find that the Rays were playing the Angels on TV. At ten o’clock,
my hotel phone rang.

“
Hello?” I
asked.

“
Hey. It’s
Erica.”

“
Oh, hi.” I sat
up.

“
I’m not stalking you,”
she laughed nervously. “Ok, I sort of am. You told me where you
were staying. I’m off work and a girlfriend and I are heading to
Mutt Lynch’s for a drink. Thought you might want company, unless
you’re hitting the town with boys again.”

“
No, I’m
not...”

“
I know you have to drive
tomorrow, and...”

“
No, sure. You heading
there now?”

“
We’ll pick you
up.”

Erica arrived in a minivan driven by
her friend whose name I never caught because before we got to the
bar, she’d received a call and begged out, dropping us at the
curb.

We grabbed a table in the popular
tourist spot and Erica confessed, “Ok, I know there’s no way you
bought that story. She was never coming for drinks, but I thought
it would be weird if I just asked you out for a drink.”

I laughed hard. “No, I totally bought
it, but thanks for coming clean.”

“
That’s the oldest trick
in the book! But she really should have at least stayed for one
drink. It’s more believable that way.”

“
I need to write this
down.”

“
You can’t use it,
Mike.”

“
What? Is this like
proprietary? Do I need permission?”

“
No, it just doesn’t work
for guys. I mean, if you call a girl for a drink, whatever the
excuse, it’s just an excuse.”

“
But not with
women.”

“
Right. Women see right
through it. Men don’t. You fell for it!”

“
Erica, do you always have
to trick men into have a drink with you?”

“
You’re leaving town. I
knew I wouldn’t get a second chance.” She paused and held up her
hand, “Please, I’m not crazy. You’re just a nice guy and I figured,
what the heck, he’s in town one more night, so if you rejected me
at least I wouldn’t run into you on the street.”

“
Fair enough,” I
said.

“
I mean, I’m not trying to
sleep with you. Just, oh for Christ’s sake, what am I
saying?”

“
I’m not sure. You bring
me out here for drinks, I assumed this was guaranteed sex. Check
please!”

“
Please don’t embarrass me
further. Can we change the subject? What’s the score of the game?
How was your pizza? The twins are so adorable!”

“
5-2, Rays. The pizza was
great as always. Vince tried to get me to come work for
him.”

“
Really?”

“
I turned him down. He
didn’t beg, but he said it was a good offer. And I turned Sara
down, who made the pitch from the family angle. I’m probably making
a mistake, but I’ve been coasting for so long now, I’m trying to
figure out my next step. It’s complicated.”

“
Tell me about it. I’m
teaching fifth graders and I refuse to quit the job that put me
through college.”

This was easy. We were having an open
and honest conversation. We had two drinks and I could have stayed
for a third and a fourth, but I felt comfortable just ending the
evening on a pleasant note.

“
I am driving twelve hours
tomorrow,” I said, when the server asked us if we wanted another
round. I could see Erica was a little disappointed and the server
went to get our check.

“
You’re going to drive a
van all the way to Florida.”

“
Yep. No CD player. Not
that I have any CDs.”

“
You should pick up the
first hitchhiker you see.”

“
Yeah, I’ll do that.
Better yet,” I said, attempting a joke, “Why don’t you come with
me?”

“
In a heart beat I would,”
she smiled. “Really.”

It actually sounded appealing.
“Really, why not? Tell you what. I’ll buy your ticket back. You’ll
be back for school on Monday.”

“
Ummm.” I could see her
wheels turning.

“
Just think. The open
road. Truck stops. Canyons. The deep south.”

“
You sure?”

“
Totally,” I
said.

“
What the hell? Let’s do
it.”

She didn’t have her car, so we walked
back to my hotel with plans to stop by her apartment first thing in
the morning for her to pack a bag. In an unusually comfortable way,
we collapsed on to the bed talking about high school people. She
was exhausted from teaching and working the bar. We lay face to
face and I could see her begin to doze.

“
I’m going to fall
asleep,” she said, “so you better kiss me.”

I did. It was a strange feeling after
being with the same person so long. I was keenly aware that I was
preoccupied. I was afraid she could tell that my mind was racing. I
looked at her closed eyes and I could see that she too was
somewhere else. We locked eyes, she smiled and we fell
asleep.

I woke up at 6:30 with her dark hair
tickling my cheek. She rolled towards me and put her head on my
chest. She was in a tank top that showed the tattoo of a rose on
her right shoulder. She blinked her eyes and took a deep
breath.

“
Michael,” she said
softly. I could see a tear on her cheek. “I’m not going with you to
Florida.”

“
I know,” I
sighed.

3

I dropped Erica off at her apartment.
She didn’t explain her decision not to join me, and I didn’t want
her to. Maybe she didn’t want her students to suffer a substitute
teacher for the next two days. Maybe it was because I didn’t try to
make a move on her. Maybe the initial excitement wore off. Whatever
the reason, I admit I was relieved. I was a little worried about
how to handle the visit to Santa Fe, with a woman in tow. I was
worried about what she expected from me. What if we got to Texas
and it wasn’t going well? We’d had a couple drinks and got along
great, but 3,500 miles is a long way to ride with
someone.

Hair mussed, Erica waved goodbye. We
exchanged email addresses and agreed to stay in touch, and I meant
it. She was a really nice girl. We were in totally different
places, literally and figuratively. I wanted a place for someone
like Erica in my life, but I had a long way to go. It wouldn’t be
fair for me to try to bring her or anyone else along for that
ride.

I love driving into the desert in the
morning. Desert mornings remind me of family road trips when I was
a child. My dad always insisted on leaving at 3 or 4 in the
morning. He’d carry my lifeless body to the car and I’d wake up to
a sunrise over Kramer Junction, nothing but Joshua Trees and a gas
station. I scanned through the radio stations and settled on KLOS
for nostalgia purposes. I recalled the day when every teenager’s
car had the rainbow oval KLOS bumper sticker, and the many oval
variations, with bands like Blondie, Rush, and Pink Floyd on them.
They were still playing those bands. “Time” from Dark Side of the
Moon played as the houses ended and the desert began.

The van rode like a jetliner on that
perfect black road. I was on a high. It was only Thursday, but
events of the previous weekend were a distant memory. My visit in
Santa Fe came with its own baggage, as I knew my mom was still
struggling with the grief over her mother. But it felt good to be
going there where I could see her. I felt helpless talking to my
dad on the phone while he made excuses about why she couldn’t come
to the phone. I need to cover 850 miles that day.

I was lightheaded when I reached
Kingman, AZ, stopping only once for gas. I ended up in a diner that
had plastered the interstate with billboards. It had a 1950s theme
complete with a little floor-show put on by the servers. It was a
good choice over fast food and they sent me on my way with a good
tall black coffee. It was only one in the afternoon and I still had
more than half of the day’s drive left to go. I was already sure
that I wouldn’t try to bite off another chunk like this in one day.
The heat was oppressive in a way I had forgotten about. My skin
didn’t sweat, but my sinuses ached as the air hit me like I was
pulling a chicken out of an oven. The van’s AC was keeping up even
if I was running out of music options.

I was finally to Santa Fe. The
floorboard of the passenger seat was a beverage and snack history
of the day. The day started hopeful with trail mix and fruit juice.
By the end, there were Cheeto’s and M&M wrappers sticking out
of an empty can of Pringles. I’d also stopped at Cracker Barrel for
chicken and dumplings and I had the empty Styrofoam coffee cup to
prove it. And there was a glass bottle of café mocha rattling
around, breaking my arbitrary two-coffee rule.

I was within fifteen minutes of
pulling up to my parent’s house when my phone rang. Expecting it to
be my dad, I was surprised it was Sam. I had left him a message
from the road, but it was getting late for a call. He spoke over a
lot of background noise, so I knew he was out.

“
Hey, man,” he said over
the din, “How far did you make it?”

“
Almost to my parents’
place,” I said.

“
Got a minute?”

“
Of course, I’m driving a
van in the desert.”

“
Alright, well, this is
awkward. I’ve thought about it and I would want to know if I were
you.”

I knew it had something to do with
Christie, after I’d asked Sam to get my mail.

“
What did she do? Please
tell me she’s not fucking waiting for me at my parents’
house.”

“
Whoa. No, not that,” he
said. “I called her, to get your mail. Well, big surprise, she
didn’t answer or call back. No text or anything.”

“
Okay, it’s not that big
of a deal.”

“
No, listen. So I went by
there because I was heading over to Green Iguana and it was on the
way. Her car was there so I knocked on the door. This was like 5:30
or 6:00. Okay, so you aren’t going to like this...”

“
Just spit it
out.”

“
Frank Murray was
there.”

Frank Murray was a guy we knew from
college. We bumped into him from time to time. I think he worked at
a hotel.

“
Frank Murray,” I
repeated. “And he was there, like they were fucking
there?”

“
Well, I didn’t catch them
in the act, but he sure looked flustered when he saw me at the
door. And she wore it on her face. Fear. She was busted. I’m sorry
to tell you this, but man... that’s just wrong.”

“
Seriously, Sam,” I
sighed, surprised to feel a sting of sadness, or maybe it was
anger. “This might be the best news you could have given me. I was
feeling pretty guilty. Maybe she gets it. I’m not sure what do
say.”

Sam was laughing.

I started to laugh too, “I think I’m
relieved.”

“
Man, I thought you’d be
pissed.”

“
Relieved. Just proves I
wasn’t being judgmental or cruel. We weren’t happy. She had no
problem moving on.”

“
Yeah, I guess you’re
right,” Sam said. “I was just afraid it would bruise your ego a
bit. It’s not like you’re shacking up with anyone yet.”

I chuckled. “Actually, a girl did stay
over last night.”

“
You lying son of a...
Who?”

“
This girl I knew in high
school. Nothing happened. She almost came on the drive, but had
second thoughts.”