Autumn in Idaho was hanging on for a few more weeks. While the rains were colder and most of the hardwood trees had dropped their leaves, patches of red and gold still shimmered on a few oaks and maples.
Jessica returned from her hike around Camel’s Back Reserve, happy and sweaty.
“The view from Mile High Road is beautiful,” she told Jimmy. “Although I got pretty winded. I’m so out of shape.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place to work on your fitness. There are miles of trails around Boise.” Jimmy pulled her towards him and kissed her forehead. “I’m really glad you’re here, Jess.”
“Me too. I kind of can’t believe it.”
It seemed much longer than two months ago that Jimmy and the fire truck pulled up with sirens screaming to put out the Mr. and Mr. on Wheels fire in lower Manhattan. A lot of life had happened quickly since then.
Jessica needed to get showered and dressed in time for her massage class that afternoon.
The three roommates—Jessica, Jimmy, and Corey—were getting used to sharing Corey’s house. Luckily, there was plenty of space and one empty bedroom besides.
“I have to leave for base camp tonight,” Jimmy said. “Will you be home in time for supper so I can see you before I go?”
“Yes,” Jessica called from upstairs. “Definitely.”
“Great! Corey’s making his famous spaghetti and meatballs.”
Jimmy and Corey had been best friends since childhood. They surprised no one when, as adults, they both became firefighters. While Corey chose to stay in Idaho, Jimmy had taken off for New York City where fighting fires was a whole different ballgame.
A horrific fall that left Corey dependent on a walker ended his firefighting days.
“I’m coming back to Boise,” Jimmy said when Corey told him about the accident. “I want to train as a smokejumper.”
Corey had insisted that Jimmy move in to share his empty house.
* * *
When Jessica returned from class, Jimmy was prepping the tomato sauce and Corey was mixing the meatballs.
“Class was interesting today,” she announced, walking into the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”
“You could chop up more onions and tomatoes,” Corey said, pointing at the extras on the counter.
Jessica tied on the apron that hung on a hook next to the sink.
“One of my practice clients pretended to scold me for wearing white jeans after Labor Day.”
“That’s silly,” Corey said, laughing. “So, don’t get tomato stains on those white jeans.”
Jessica started chopping. “Anyway, so this same woman spent ten minutes complaining about a local store that tried to get her to sign up for a second loyalty card. ‘Two cards!’ she says to me. ‘No. That is not happening! One loyalty card per store is my limit!’
“There I was, trying to give this woman a relaxing massage with the lights turned low and she’s all tensed up with outrage over a loyalty card,” Jessica said, shaking her head. “People are funny, you know that? I can already tell I’m going to have a lot of stories to share about my clients.”
At the stove, Jimmy kept an eye on the onions, tomatoes, and garlic he had sizzling in hot oil. He occasionally looked over to check on Jessica.
“Hey, what is that apron you’re wearing?” he asked.
“It’s new,” she said, chuckling. With a flourish, she turned from the cutting board to face Jimmy and Corey. “I found it in the dollar bin at Destroyd. Now that I work there part-time, I was able to get it for half price.”
The front of the apron showed a baby elephant with the caption I can’t help it if I’m EAR-resistible!!
“Whatever you paid for it, it was too much!” Jimmy laughed.
“That’s for sure,” Corey chimed in. “They should have paid you to take that apron!”
“It cost me all of a quarter,” Jessica laughed. “I like it, so shut up!” It hadn’t taken her long to feel right at home with Jimmy and Corey. The three of them clicked.
The meatballs were baking in the oven and the spaghetti was almost al dente when Jessica’s phone rang.
It was her brother.
“Stevie, can I call you back later?” Jessica said. “We’re just about to sit down to dinner.”
“No problem. Call me later. I need to tell you something. I’ve made a decision.”
Jimmy drained the pasta over the sink and heaped it into three bowls. Corey doled out generous helpings of meatballs hot out of the oven.
Seated on mismatched chairs around the second-hand table, they ate in silence. The warm aroma of garlicky tomato sauce and ground beef had a mesmerizing effect.
Jessica ate quickly. “Steve has something he needs to tell me.” She pushed back her chair to leave the table. “Save me a couple meatballs will you, before you disappear the rest.”
She stepped into the backyard and called her brother.
“I am coming to Boise.” Steve enunciated each word.
“You are?” Jessica asked him to repeat his exact words.
“Yes! I am! Bick doesn’t know it, but I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I’ve already rented a car.”
“Oh! Okay!” Caught off guard, Jessica wasn’t sure what to say so she let Steve talk.
He related the infuriating details of the clothes incident.
“Bick and Eunice spent a bunch of money on new clothes for me. Butt-ugly stuff I would never wear. He threw all my own clothes into a trash bag. I was supposed to be grateful.”
“What a jerk,” Jessica said, finally. “That is so arrogant. So presumptuous.”
“It was just plain stupid,” Steve said. “Bick is never going to change.” He paused for a second. “And I decided I am not spending the rest of my life with a controlling, domineering, …” His voice caught in his throat.
Jessica finished his sentence. “Jack-ass?”
Jessica headed back inside to the warmth of the kitchen. The evenings were getting noticeably cooler. “Call me tomorrow, Stevie. Keep me posted!”
Jimmy and Corey were still at the kitchen table, drinking Millers and discussing the amount of Corey’s disability insurance.
“Is there any wine in this house?” Jessica asked. “I need a drink.”
Corey pointed to a cupboard in the far corner. “There’s an open bottle of red in there. Help yourself.”
Jessica took a sip of wine, then another and announced, “My brother is coming to Boise.”
* * *
After breakfast the next morning, Steve waited for Bick and Oliver to leave the apartment. Bick said he would be working at the truck all day.
“Are you planning to come by later?” Bick asked on his way out the door.
“I haven’t decided,” Steve lied.
Steve picked up the rental car and loaded the possessions he would need: his computer, camera equipment, the trash bag conveniently filled with his clothes, his down winter jacket, dog toys, two dog food bowls, two dog beds, and Gracie and Jerard.
He gathered a few keepsakes—old photos of his grandparents and parents, a shoebox full of baseball cards from his youth, and a present from his mother on his fifth birthday, a small, tarnished pony he had named Cisco.
He scribbled a note to Bick on the yellow legal pad laying on the kitchen counter.
Sometimes fast band-aid hurts less than slow band-aid. So, here goes. Fast band-aid. I’ve left for Boise. I don’t plan on coming back anytime soon. You are right about the truck. My passion is not the truck. And it never will be. I did try. I hope you believe me. We’ve had years of fantastic times together. It’s not my intention to hurt you. But it’s better this way. You take care of yourself, ok? P.S. I’ll be in touch about tying up loose ends. Hugs to Ollie.
Steve’s first stop was the Liberty Nursing Home. He parked the car and brought Gracie and Jerard inside to thank the staff for the chance to get to know the elderly residents.
“It was a wonderful experience and an honor. We will miss everyone,” Steve said, choking up.
“No, on the contrary,” the director said. “We were the ones who felt honored. I know I speak for the residents. I can’t tell you how much we looked forward to your visits.”
“Thank you,” Steve said. “Well, here we go. We’re heading west for a new adventure.”
After hugs all around, and with a pocketful of mini-MilkBones from Melva, Steve sobbed his way back to the car. At that moment, the psychic pressure he felt from long–tamped down emotions was overwhelming.
He called the food-blogger Iris to explain that his podcast would be on hold for a while. He also sent a text to Nestor that he was leaving New York. The message bounced back as undeliverable.
Good-bye, Nestor. Too bad it didn’t work out for us.
By 3:15 pm, he and the dogs were on the road in a loaded-up SUV heading west on Interstate I-80.
He called Jessica from someplace outside Youngstown, Ohio. Having driven for six hours, he checked into the first motel off the interstate that advertised “Vacancy.”
“The sky here is much darker than in New York,” he said, sniffling. He was exhausted.
“Get some rest,” Jessica said. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
* * *
Steve called Jessica at seven a.m. while helping himself to the breakfast buffet at the motel. She was still in bed. He hadn’t remembered about the two-hour time difference.
“Really, you just packed up and took off without telling him?” Jessica asked, yawning.
“I left him a note. I’m done.”
“What about the truck?” Jessica asked.
“He’ll have to buy me out,” Steve said. “He can get the money from Eunice, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“What about your apartment?”
“The lease is in his name. It’s always been in his name.”
She yawned again. “What are you eating?”
“Breakfast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns. The buffet here is not bad. No empanadas, though.” Steve laughed quietly, took a sip of coffee, and coughed. “The coffee leaves something to be desired.”
“Speaking of which, I need some coffee,” Jessica said. “I’m surprised you actually left. But then again, I’m not.”
“We were together for six years. I think that’s long enough for two people to know whether they’re going to be successful as partners in life.”
“Yeah. It was time. I’ve watched it for a while. Bick sold you on his dream and you tried hard to dream the same dream,” Jessica said.
“I did try. I really did. But throwing out my clothes was the last straw.”
“Anyway, I’m happy you’re coming out here. I checked with Corey, Jimmy’s friend. He owns the house where we’re living. You can stay in the empty bedroom for now. It’s no problem.”
“That’s so great, Jess. I really appreciate that. He knows I come with two dogs, right?”
“Corey loves dogs. I think you’ll like it here,” Jessica said, speaking through a yawn.
Steve placed his breakfast tray on the cart designated for dirty dishes. “Well, I should check out and get back on the road. If all goes according to plan, I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Safe travels. Are Gracie and Jerard excited?”
“Maybe. It’s hard to tell,” Steve said. “They take turns sleeping in the back seat and looking out the window. I had no idea about this part of the country. There’s a lot of it!”
Jessica burst out laughing. “You haven’t even made it to the Mississippi River yet!” By eight a.m., Steve and the dogs were back on the road, headed west.
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