Disclaimer: I own nothing. I randomly picked a small town, I have never been there.
For some reason the idea of a single, white female driving over 15 hours alone did not settle well with Charlie. For the first time in my existence, Renee agreed with him. I am trying to figure out her logic though because lugging my younger sister with me does not seem any safer. If anything Nessie made the trip more dangerous.
During the drive I was receiving a lot of honks and weird looks. When some guy took his shirt off, I knew something was up. Bad driving can account for a lot of things but not partial male nudity. It turns out my sister was winking and making googly eyes at every male in their 20s who drove past. When I glanced over, she even had a tally of their reactions in her notebook. What happened to car games like figuring out license plates or counting the digits in mile markers? It took me a good three hours to notice her game because I am the stereotypical woman driver. I drive too fast, change lanes only glancing in the review mirror, and do other female upkeep. Apparently it's illegal to paint your toenails while driving. The nice officer did not actually give me a ticket for that one, so I am not sure if that law actually exists. I am now sad. I hate waiting on nail polish to dry, and now need to think of another way to have pretty toes.
Just outside of Knoxville, TN I broke. The Days Inn Holiday Express sign was just off of the Interstate and there was a room with my name on it. At least my name was on their computer next to the room number for the night: Isabella Marie Swan, 113, 05/31/2011. It was plenty good enough for me. No more driving with the Lochness Monster today.
I grabbed my backpack, opened the door, and plopped on the bed. Finally there was peace and quiet. No more weird interstate people. It didn't last.
"What the hell Bella! You let the door close in my face! I had to get the hotel guy to let me in. Could you have not waited like 2 minutes for me to get my things?" Nessie was not a happy camper it seems. I wish some people came with mute buttons.
"Oh, by the way there is a hot tub and a pool here! I think I want to go for a soak before we turn in. Are you going to come with?"
There are very few things I am sure of without having any former experience or validation. Hotel hot tubs, especially ones off the interstate, cannot be sanitary. Also, if interstate goonies make me nervous while driving 70+ mph in separate vehicles going to different locations, I am sure that interstate goonies sleeping nearby won't make me feel any better. Add a blue string bikini, and I realize that if I want to get any sleep tonight, I must cease this thought process.
"Nessie, are you sure that you want to be in hot tubs here. I am sure that they contain fermented sperm and other lovely fluids from truckers and hookers. Soaking in there does not seem sanitary". I am proud. For the first time since I made her try Renee's' cooking, Nessie has gagged. Believe me, that is very hard to do. The chick watches Asian horror movies and doesn't even flinch. Shudder.
"Gross Bella. Point taken. No soaking in bubbly trucker spunk. You have successfully ruined public hot tubs for me. College is ruined". Wow I am shocked. I have gotten little Vanessa to see reason. They grow up so fast.
We decide to order pizza and watch TV before snuggling into white crisp sheets and strange pillows. The deadbolt was definitely secured (checked by both of us repetitively before bed). It is amazing how much driving takes out of you. The next conscious thought that I had was wow, that's cold… and wet.
"Sh.. Cheeze Its, Nessie! Not Cool!" It seems Nessie favors complimentary hotel ice over the perfectly good alarm clock.
"Awe, come on. Now you don't even need coffee now, you are wide awake. Less bathroom breaks so that we get there quicker! You should be thankful to your sweet, smart little sis. Most people don't have siblings who look out for their best interest like I do for you".
I get her back when she's in the shower. I dump the ice bucket on her head in the middle of her off tune rendition of Lady Gaga. The good news is that she is naked and can't chase me. I win.
After a quick car fill up of premium gas, and a quick tummy fill up on not so premium gas station food, we hit the road. Thankfully Nessie has decided to not play yesterday's car game, and the trip goes a lot smoother and with less weirdoes. Every time we pass a state line, we pick our feet up and "jump" across the border. It's a Renee thing.
We finally pull into the small town of Leakesville, Mississippi in the late afternoon. I call Charlie as soon as we find a spot with cell phone coverage, and he gives us the basic direction to his house. I have an inkling of an idea where he lives, but it has been years, almost a decade since I have been here. In high school the Mississippi summers stopped, and Charlie flew to D.C. for a week instead. It worked out best because I was involved in a lot of things. Also, Leakesville has a population of 1,000 which is not appealing to a teenage city girl.
We follow Charlie to his house. It looks a lot different from when I remember. When did Charlie find the time to garden? Life suddenly does not make any sense. Charlie is a tall, strong man. He is a man's man. He drinks beer, speaks sport (yes it's a language of its own), shoots guns, and guts fish. I would never put peonies as one of his interests.
Charlie steps out of his car and gives us a big bear hug. That's the great thing about Charlie. He is simple and hugs are the only emotion that he really shows. There is no awkward one armed hugs, and he even includes Nessie in the group hug. We start walking up to his house.
"So Chief, what's up with the flowers? Never took you as a pastel man. Wow do you actually have a vegetable garden back there"? Nessie is not one keep thoughts to herself. For once I am glad because I want to know too.
Charlie's ears turn a little pink. "Actually, there is something I need to discuss with you girls, Bells especially". I am not sure where this conversation is leading. Before Charlie can continue, a tall, thin woman opens the door. She is a very nondescript woman. She isn't plain or homey, nor is she exactly young, but she has an olive complexion, graying hair, and laugh lines. I am not quite sure what she is doing in there, but I think I have found the reason for the peonies.
"Bells, this is Sue. I met her in the hospital, and I have decided to keep her". Sue turns a shade pink. This is unexpected, yet interesting. Charlie is usually a quiet guy, so silence is not uncommon. This silence is tense. I have never felt awkward around Charlie before, unless you count that one summer that Charlie had to go buy my feminine products. I wanted to die. He was new to the whole monthly thing and bought the ones without applicators. I am sure that they are still hidden under the sink. I was so mortified to send him back for pads. I definitely did not want to explain the procedure; such things are taboo, so I made him pick up something else.
The silence is broken when two people run out of the house. The girl has shoulder length brown hair and is covered in what appears to be chocolate sauce and flour. What a strange person. Nessie is beside me and shaking with silent laughter. Nessie is not known for being subtle or polite. The girl is being chased by the most attractive man I have ever seen. I hear Nessie gasp when he comes closer. She is still a little boy crazy, but I understand the sentiment. He is even taller than Gramps, tan, and has the broadest shoulders I have seen. He even has a medium length dark ponytail. I normally like clean cut men, but hello Fabio. I wonder if they are together
"Why hello there, I'm Jake". So Mr. Fabio has a name. Jake. Wait, Jake?