Author's note to the readers:
Yes, I know it's been a year since my last chapter...I apologize and can only offer up the fact that this past year has been 'full'. Both my professional life and social life has had a year unlike any other, but, in the end, it's all good. All of that being said, let's get back to Trish's story, shall we? I've missed her also...
~~~
No answer...
It was the third time that Trish had tried to reach Bobby's 'friend' in Erie. Cruising at three over the speed limit, Trish was entering the western suburbs of Cleveland and would soon be in Erie, and, not a bad time to stop for the night.
"Vicki, this is Trish, Bobby's friend," she began her message, "give me a call if there's a chance that we might grab a bite to eat or a drink tonight, will you? I'll be staying in or near Erie tonight and just hate to eat alone," laughing after she had said it.
Ending the cell call, Trish kept her eyes on the road, Bonnie Raitt doing her thing from the car's stereo system, while reaching for her 'road roach', jumping a bit when her cell rang.
"Damn, that was quick," Trish said to herself, and the empty car, when the caller I.D. showed it to be Vicki.
"Hey Vicki," Trish said by way of greeting.
"Hey, yourself," Vicki's soft voice replied, "I've been waiting for your call but had to run out for a few hours; sorry I missed the earlier calls, but I'll make it up to you."
"Don't be silly," Trish responded, "I don't expect you to put your life on hold because I'm on a road trip," laughing a bit.
"Bobby told me to take good care of you, so for starters, cancel your reservation, you're staying at my place. Secondly, I have a small dinner party scheduled, so you'll eat and drink here, with a couple of my friends and I. Third, Bobby said you'd try to give me an argument and that I was not to accept your lame-ass excuses, understood?"
"Crystal clear," Trish said, liking the voice on the other end of the call.
"Do you have a Garmin or some such?"
"Yep."
"Punch in the address I'm about to give you and I'll see you in a couple of hours."
Address given, they ended the call and Trish lit her doobie, inhaled deeply, and smilingly, slowly, let the pungent smoke seep from her lips.
"Yowza," She said aloud as the smoke 'hit' her. "Well, alright!", letting the Maui herb carry her eastward into Pennslyvania, the Erie welcoming signs beginning to appear on the roadside.
"Thanks for the directions, Bitch!" Trish said aloud to her navigation system. She had named the on-board system's female voice, 'Bitch'.
Yes, she was stoned when deciding to do that.
"Vicki?, My reliable GPS system 'done fucked up again'", Trish teased into her cell, "I'm at the end of some country lane, at a dead end, staring at a grove of Maple trees...at least, I think they're Maple trees."
"Look to your right," Vicki replied, "See an old, rickity-looking gate and fence?"
"Yeaah," Trish said, dragging out the word as her eyes swept to the right, spying said gate and fence.
"Back up, turn to the gate as if you're going to run through it...the gate should open automatically", Vicki said.
"Well, fuck me running," Trish said as the gate swung open smoothly, revealing a well-worn path with tire tracks into the surrounding grove of trees.
"I'll meet you on the porch," Vicki said, disconnecting afterwards.
The 'driveway' was approximately a half-mile long, winding path, through the beautiful trees and opened up to show an older, Federalist-style, two story house with a porch that surrounded the house on three sides. Standing on the porch, waving, was a very attractive, no, make that, 'extremely', attractive woman of mixed race; Clearly, a bit of Afro-American blood flowing through her veins, coupled with some European genes, as well.
Parking, Trish got out of her car, stretched, and walked towards Vicki who was approaching her, the two of them greeting in a 'new friend's' embrace. Trish quickly judged Vicki to be 'near' her own age, somewhere between thirty-five and forty, she had judged...and, she was very fucking wrong.
Vicki, as it turned out when they exchanged brief introductory bios while Vicki gave Trish a quick tour, was forty-eight but looked nowhere near that age, Trish had decided. Good for her!, Trish thought. Vicki and Bobby had known each other for several years, their common connection, it turned out, to be a woman that they were both 'seeing' when Bobby lived in Erie, years ago.
"The bitch played us both," Vicki chuckled to Trish as she told the story, "So, B and me paid the bitch back by starting to see each other," laughing, then finishing her glass of excellent Merlot.
"The rest, as they say, is history," Vicki opined as she handed Trish a freshly poured glass of wine.
Vicki was a tall (5'9"), willowy (130-ish), woman that looked 10 years younger than her age. She was an artist, and, the head of the Fine Arts Department at a smaller, private Liberal Arts college near Erie. "Where the really wealthy send their kids who can't cut it at the Ivys," referring to Brown, Yale, and the like. Her 200+ year-old home stood on about 10 acres, mostly woodlands, with a small pond, and also had a carriage house that had been remodled to use as her studio. She worked in many mediums but preferred the textures of oils as her favorite.
"Our dinner guests, tonight", Vicki said as they walked back to the 'big house' after the fifty-cent tour, "are colleagues, both professors in their respective fields, both insanely smart, and somewhat unconventional in their lifestyle."
