[This story is about family, doing the right thing and the sometimes unexpected results of attempting to do the right thing. Sex between a man and a woman, between a man and another woman and sex between the three of them is a part of this chapter. All the sex happens between Roanoke, Virginia and Wyoming. There will be at least five chapters]
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There are things I'll do for family that I'd turn down as a job. Number one, family members don't pay as well as my regular jobs and number two, they're almost never ready when they're supposed to be ready.
The latest is a case in point. My sister called me three weeks ago and asked me to help her move. I knew something was really wrong. She and Frank had moved a year ago into a nice house just outside Winston-Salem. I didn't help with that move, they already lived in Winston-Salem and didn't need a trucker. Anyway, she called and asked for my help. I'm nosey so I asked what was up.
"Frank is screwing his secretary and she's pregnant!" LeeAnn said. I could hear the venom rising in her voice and I was instantly glad I wasn't Frank. Understand, sometimes my weird sense of humor gets loose before I can shut my mouth.
"So, am I moving you or his secretary?"
"Me! I'm not staying with that son-of-a-bitch one second longer than I have to!" She didn't think what I said was the least bit funny. I was afraid of the next answer so I didn't want to ask the question. I did anyway.
"Where am I moving you to?"
"Home. I already talked to Daddy and I can have the second house. The question I have for you is when?" Daddy and Momma lived on a farm. The second house was once the house where the foreman and his wife lived. Since Dad sold off half the land, he didn't need a foreman anymore. The second house had been vacant for five years.
"I'm guessing you want to go sooner rather than later?" I asked.
"You don't need to guess. If you could get here today, I'd want to leave tonight!"
"I'll have to make a few calls. I'll call you back in less than an hour."
I made the calls and rescheduled what needed rescheduling. Then I figured how much money I needed to break even. I was glad I wasn't on the west coast. Twenty-seven hundred dead head miles is crazy. I was in Roanoke, less than four hours away.
When I called LeeAnn she picked up on the first ring.
"Well? What's the news?" She asked.
"The news is I can be there tomorrow. That's the good news. The bad news is that I have to get paid for this. Not enough that I make money, but break-even money."
"How much?" Her tone wasn't upset or worried. That was a good sign. I gave her the number and started to explain what it was for, fuel, fees... and she cut me off.
"I'll have the cash for you when you arrive."
"Have you started packing?"
"No. Frank is going to Richmond tomorrow for what he says is a business conference. He's going to be gone until Monday. As soon as he goes I'll start packing."
"Get boxes and lots of friends. The more friends and the more you get done before I get there, the faster we're on the road."
"Gotcha! Thanks big brother."
I had a good day and got my load unloaded, check cashed and my truck serviced and fueled. I'd been making runs in and out of Roanoke about once a month for almost a year. I knew where I could park my rig and where to get a good meal, with extras.
She worked at WSET-TV, the ABC affiliate in the area. She liked our arrangement. When I was scheduled into Roanoke I'd call her. She'd do whatever she could to be available and we'd go on a "date" while I was in town. Our date included her picking me up from where I parked my rig, taking me to her place where we played house for however many hours I had before I had to be back in the truck. Sometimes we left her place, but mostly she reminded me of the song from "Horse Whisperer", "Looking for a soft place to land." She was my soft place to land. There were two questions she didn't ever ask: Where are you going and when will you be back.
When I parked my rig I called her. A feminine voice at the station asked if she could help me. I asked, "May I speak to Kathy Prentis please?" She said was expecting the call, it had been long enough. She said she'd be there in an hour. She was.
We had a wonderful evening together and in the morning she dropped me back at my rig on her way to work. Inside the vanity in her bedroom I left an envelope. The one time I had offered her money directly she asked if I thought she was a whore. Ever since that time, I put money in an envelope and leave it there. Feeding me isn't free and I like to know being with me has more benefit for her than what I have in my jeans. I left her two hundred that time.
When I was about an hour from LeeAnn's house, I called. She had six helpers in the house and she had four men coming in the morning to load furniture and things. I told her I'd park in front of her house at seven the next morning. I found a place to park and spent the night by myself. I didn't want someone seeing my truck parked out front of her house overnight.
The sleeper on my truck is comfortable. I have a TV, stereo, DVD player and all the necessities for camping beside the road. The bed is big for one, cozy for two and I know both from experience.
At quarter to seven in the morning I stopped in front of LeeAnn and Frank's house. As I was opening the back of the truck four big guys were bringing out a couch and a fridge. I checked the fridge to make sure it didn't still have food in it. Don't laugh, it's happened.
LeeAnn brought out some coffee and my favorite breakfast; a bowl with scrambled eggs, biscuits and sausage gravy. I ate and supervised the loading. By noon the house was almost empty. My truck was almost full. LeeAnn came back out to the truck and said we were ready.
"You riding with me?" I asked.
"Nope. We aren't caravanning either. I need to stop in Atlanta and see Megan so I'll meet you at home. I talked to Daddy last night. He says to call him the day before you'll get there and he'll get some boys to unload." She handed me an envelope full of money. I didn't look inside. I prayed there was the full break-even amount inside.
As I locked up the back of my truck LeeAnn walked to their garage and drove out in a year-old Dodge pick up. She had been driving a Buick. She stopped beside me, rolled the window down and said, "If I'd kept the Buick it would've been the only one in the county. In Wyoming, a girl needs a truck." She waved and was gone.
I had the paperwork making my load legal, the money LeeAnn gave me and about eighteen hundred miles to go before I could resume my solitary life as an independent trucker.
As I pulled away from the curb I noticed it was 1:12pm. I pointed my truck west and drove. As I got farther and farther from Winston-Salem I thought about Frank and LeeAnn. I listened to a piano concerto by Chopin, switched to Dave Brubeck and as the sun was going down I listened to Alison Krauss and Union Station. All the years on the road had broadened my appreciation of different kinds of music. I wondered, not for the first time, why Frank and LeeAnn only had one kid. I wondered why Frank hadn't spent enough money on condoms, birth control pills or a vasectomy.
By seven I was getting hungry and knew where a good truck stop was not far ahead. By eight I was parked and inside eating. I checked the weather ahead and saw a small storm out west of me. It didn't look like anything to worry about. The storm behind the little one looked bad. A little math in my head and I figured both LeeAnn and I might get lucky and miss driving in the second storm. We might both be home when it hit.
I napped in my sleeper and woke up refreshed and ready to drive. Before leaving the truck stop I fueled up. When I opened the envelope LeeAnn had given me it didn't look right. I paid almost four hundred for fuel and got back in the truck. I counted the money. The slips from the ATM's were in the envelope. LeeAnn had hit three different banks for two thousand each.
A slap on my door got my attention. I looked down and saw a woman standing beside my rig. I tucked the money in a good secure place and I opened the door. "You OK?" I asked.
"That depends. If you're headed west and if you got room for one tired lady, then I'm fine. If not, then..."
"Where are you headed?"
"West."
"I'm going that way for a ways. Can you get in or you need help?"
She ran around and climbed in. Her one battered suitcase was about the size of one of LeeAnn's purses. She sat down, closed the door and belted in. I slipped into gear and we moved onto the interstate.
For five minutes she didn't say anything. I glanced over a couple of times. She was looking out into the darkness.
"Are you the kind of man who doesn't talk much?"
"I've been known to go a week without talking to anyone face to face."
"Can we talk?"
"In the back there's a sign. I keep it under the bed. It says the doctor is in. Unless you get the sign out and put it on the dash I can't charge you for any therapy we do."
She looked at me and then said, "You are kidding. Right?"
"Right. I figure if you had money you'd be on Trailways instead of hitchin a ride in a semi."
