Truth Between Lies

by joeyjacobswrites

Bella, a shy and timid ticketbooth agent, rescues the handsome man of her dreams when he's pushed off the platform and onto the tracks. At the hospital, Bella's quietly spoken wish "I was going to marry that man" is taken as truth by the nurse. When the comedy of errors spins out of her control can Bella keep sight on what her heart truly desires?

1. Prologue

I learned to read a map before I could read a book. Whenever the news anchor mentioned a city I didn't know, I'd run to the US map tacked on the hallway wall. As my dad made his way out of the recliner, I'd sound out the city's first letter in my mind: Sss-sss-sss-Seattle. Dee-dee-dee-Detroit. Jaa-Jaa-Jaa-Jacksonville. Mmm-Mmm-Mmm-Milwaukee. Chh, chh, chh-Chicago. Dad would tell me if it was a big or small city, and I'd look for the appropriate symbol and letter on the map.

I'd trace my finger from our home in Forks, Washington over highway US-101, through Olympia where I'd switch to interstate US-5 . I'd head north until I reached highway US-18, sliding my finger north, northeast to interstate US-90. Slowly, I'd move my finger eastward, going through cities named Spokane, or Butte, or Billings. Sometimes, I'd take the long way around, going slightly north to interstate US-94, over to Minneapolis before rejoining interstate US-90. Days when I missed my dad, missed him so much even as he sat next me, I'd insist that we only travel by highway.

Charlie would chuckle, and we'd restart our trip from Forks. This time, we'd move our fingers through the spidery web of highways, traveling east, south, north, and east again until we reached our destination. He'd point out rivers on the map where he'd fished before and places he wanted to fish whenever he'd get a chance. He pointed out the city where he met my mom, and the desert city where they honeymooned. He showed me how to get to my grandma Higgenbothom's house in Northern California. When he wasn't too sad, he'd show me how to get to the sunny seaside town where my mother's body was laid to rest.

"She never did like all this rain," he'd say. "I didn't have it in me to bury her where there's more gloom than sun."

So when it came time for us to pack up the house and move to Chicago, I calmed myself by reciting the route we'd take like a mantra: highway 101 to US-5, to highway US-18 up to interstate US-90. Go east until Billings. Take US-90 south to Buffalo, and then travel east again. Drive, drive, and drive some more until we reached Chicago. Charlie made me promise we'd stop at all the silly roadside attractions we found. Who cared if they added time to our trip? Our apartment in Chicago was ready, the moving company quoted two weeks for our stuff to arrive, and the old Chevy truck didn't drive that fast. It'd be fun, he insisted. An adventure of a lifetime. What he didn't say was that it'd probably be the last adventure of his lifetime.