Chapter Two: Time To Pack
"Alright, Roger, I'm outta here. Don't miss me too much, OK?" Jo told her co-worker, teasing. It was the end of Jo's shift and she was eager to go home, pack and meet up with Blair.
Roger nodded, brushing the shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. "Will do, Jo. I'll see you Monday then. Oh, and tell Miss Blair I said hello."
Jo made a face and rolled her eyes. Roger was a young intern at the Center from the South. He was well-meaning and hardworking but his crush on Blair could be aggravating sometimes. Jo only nodded. "Sure, Roger. See ya Monday."
With that, Jo picked up her purse and walked away. She fished for her car keys and left the building, going towards her car; a red, used, souped-up '67 Pontiac GTO convertible, given to her by her father Charlie as a surprise wedding gift. Every time she saw it, it gave her chills. I still can't believe this baby is all mine, she thought, grinning happily. Jo was in love with anything that had a motor attached to it.
She unlocked the driver's side door and got in, putting her key into the ignition. She turned it and the car immediately came to life. She put on her seat belt, adjusted the rear view mirror, put the hood down and put her feet on the gas.
She beamed with delight as she drove down the road, on her way home to pack and pick up Blair.
Ready for the vacation of a lifetime, she thought as she rolled down the streets of Peekskill.
Meanwhile, Blair was in panic mode, digging through her closet and drawers. She was having a hard time trying to decide what was suitable enough for a two-day fishing trip.
Damn it, she thought crossly as she pursed her lips in concentration, tossing various items aside. She stared at the heap of bathing suits, shirts, PJs, dresses, skirts and shoes she had amassed and thrown on the floor. This is harder than I thought it would be.
She sat on the bed and frowned. I wonder if Jo's having the same dilemma I am.
She then laughed. "Who am I kidding? It's Jo," she said. Jo didn't quite have the wardrobe Blair had and was much more practical than Blair was when it came to preparation.
She stared at the clock on the wall. Better hurry. Jo will be here soon.
Blair got up and quickly went over to finish packing her suitcase.
Let's see now…two sweaters…two pairs of pants…some long underwear…three shirts...a pair of socks...a robe…two sets of PJs, Jo thought, running a list off in her head as she packed the items neatly in her duffel bag when she arrived home. Years of running away from things as a kid had taught her not to overpack. It slowed people down that way.
Hmmm…would it be overdoin' it if I packed an extra pair of socks? She pondered, tapping her finger against her chin.
She shrugged and grabbed another roll of socks and tucked them into her bag.
As she set her bag on the bed, she suddenly felt a pang of urgency. I gotta call Rick! I gotta at least tell him where I'm goin' so he doesn't flip when he sees I'm not here, she thought hastily, thinking of her husband of nearly two years.
Jo thought about her goofy, kind, and good-natured husband. He was the sweetest and kindest man Jo had ever met. She loved him…or at least, she thought she did. Since he was a musician who traveled all over the country and the world, promoting his work, Jo barely saw him. Once in a while, he'd come home for a few weeks but then, he'd be gone again.
He'd either write letters to her or call her on the phone from time to time or send postcards of all of his adventures. But writing, calling and popping up occasionally to spend time with his wife wasn't enough. Jo needed more and Rick just wasn't fulfilling that lately.
Jo picked up the phone to speak to Rick through his manager.
"Hello there! You've reached Ron Taber, music manager extraordinaire! Leave a message and I'll call you back!" It was only a recorded message.
Voice message. Go fuckin' figure. Fuckin' fantastic, she thought bitterly. She slammed the phone down and turned back to her duffle bag. I'm so tired of this. Every time I need to speak to my husband, I have to go through his goddamn manager first.
She glanced at the wedding picture of her and Rick standing proudly on the dresser. In a fit of anger, she slammed the picture down.
Just fuck it, she thought, her nostrils flaring. I'm outta here. What Rick doesn't know, won't hurt him.
Blair began just throwing random stuff in her suitcase, mindlessly humming to herself. Practical sucks! She thought. I need to be prepared and look my best when I'm out there in the woods. I'm sure Jo won't mind.
"Speaking of being prepared, there's got to be some more stuff here I can bring," she said to herself.
She turned her attention to the various knickknacks on her night table. "Compact mirror, nail file, Chapstick, nail polish…" she pushed those items into her purse. She began absentmindedly tossing various other items into her bag from the top of her night table.
Blair then opened one of the drawers and gasped. Aha! Perfect! She reached in, pulling out a 38 caliber pistol handgun. Casey's gun, she thought as she ran her fingers lightly across the cold, hard steel. She remembered seeing Casey put it into the drawer and had asked him about it. He told her it was to keep their house safe from intruders which Blair understood. Blair didn't know the first thing about using a gun. Well, we'll probably need it for protection. Who knows what will be out there in those woods! Bears, snakes, serial killers.
She grabbed the gun by the tail end and put it into her purse along with the extra bullets Casey had put into the drawer as well.
Hmmm….intruders remind me there's something else I have to do…
She quickly ducked back into her purse and fished out her wallet. She dug out all her credit cards and went over to pull a rather heavy safe from the closet.
She unlocked it using the combination code she remembered. Opening it, she placed the credit cards inside of it. It's not that I don't trust Casey, she thought. But we are living together. Anything could happen. Just trying to be safe than sorry. She pushed the safe back into the closet.
She turned her attention back to her suitcase. It was stuffed, threatening to burst and stuff was hanging out from all sides. She opened it to fix it and sat on it to close it back, pushing back the latches.
There! I'm all done!
She smiled proudly at herself. "Ready to hit the road," she said. "Now I just have to wait for Jo."