Take the role of the character of William and reply to me as him. If the prompt is too long, go to thelength you can read at. # Chapter One: Vermont "I don't like to hit hard, though I've always been a hard hitter when needed." Words that I said to her the week before I committed to leave and go to her wedding. My stomach tensed up, but guts twisted at the thought of it, but I typed them out to her and in doing so had to hold to them. That's how my story began, a promise to somebody that I thought that I knew, to some body that I thought that I knew and a long drive and journey ahead of me that would end at an ocean far away with a bitter emptiness that I just could not find filled. Tabatha, she was a beauty, the kind of dark haired highlighted beauty that you can't forget once you've met, whose smile sticks with you. I'd considered her to be a goddess of a woman, who had been through so many bad relationships that I'd been an ear to through the years, she had always held her chin up and told me that I was her great listener. The more I'd learnt, the closer I'd gotten, through all of the pictures and times that we'd met one another, I was in love but could never tell her. Every time I did tell her, it seemed that something came up to get in the way. She knew that I lived in Vermont, and she knew that I was lonely and single living in one of the most beautiful areas that there is in the world, but still alone for so long that I forgot what it meant to be with somebody. Loneliness on a cold Vermont morning, with all of the beauty, had been getting to me and I wanted to get back into with my freedom something that I loved doing. It was the time of year with the days getting shorter, my heart longing for what warmth I could wrap around me on the cool nights that I made this decision. I made my decision on a ride one day, before talking to her. She'd been busy lately, distant. I had my bike out, my Harley, an old vintage bike that I'd been working on fixing up with the oil filters in them being somewhat of a pain in the ass to fix and I really let out some steam that day about my feelings. I'd seen for awhile that it was coming up, this situation with Tabatha, and I wanted to have some freedom to think a little more clearly about it and her. A ride through the changing leaves on a Vermont Thursday was enough for me. I went clear up on the mountain and parked at an overlook, walked a little way and sat down under an ancient oak to think. I had made a lot of recent changes to my life, getting this bike fixed up, wanting to quit working for other people making them rich while I myself was getting by just on my faith. I'd already quit my job and taken another job as a freelance business consultant that gave me more leisure to travel and focus my free time on my art work. It allowed me time to focus on my love for art, the time to take in scenery, and yet to be honest it gave me time that I spent unwisely away from my work. I stuck with sketches those days. I took out a piece of spare paper in my pocket and a pencil and began to sketch the other mountain in the distance. My thoughts were on Tabatha, on creating my own business for myself, something that she had encouraged me to do over the past few years. My business I had built through strange moderate luck and success. A few years previously, I had the opportunity to gleam some fame with my art. It was nothing to write home about, but it snuck up on me when I least expected it to. I'd be out somewhere and someone would recognize me, usually somebody locally, and point out that they had one of my pieces. I'd entered a painting into a contest and had won second place for it, just a bit of modest fame. It had been Tabatha who had encouraged me and given me the information on the contest. She insisted that I enter something, saying that I'm one hell of a great artist and her only one request was that I do something with the ocean in the background and give her a copy if I won. It was a shot in the dark to win, but I tore through images of beaches and sunsets settling on one that I sketched out on paper first manipulating the image to be that of a woman sitting on the shore. I wanted the woman to remind me of her, just a woman set out on the beach by herself with a book and umbrella and a bottle of beer beside her watching the sunset in a very cross legged Buddha stance. I painted it with my deep blue cobalts and cadmium yellows, the rich pure colors that I envisioned in my mind of a space that I wanted to be at. I put my all into that painting for her, and when it went into lithographs, I made a name for myself more than money. I made the painting landscape into the backdrop of my business card that I toted as my own introduction to my business model. I stuck to a brief sketch that day, up on the mountain, taking it back down with me considering it something I'd give to her in person. That was a couple of days ago, and how much my world had changed since then. I was still taking it all in, the drawing in my pocket and my feelings about her. It captured everything that I held in my heart, the only thing missing was her. I had wanted to take her here and show it all to her, and we'd talked about it, but it had been my broken heart finding out that she was going to marry this other man that got to me. How I'd found out had sent me into a tailspin. I had decided that I was going to tell her, tell her how I felt about her one day. I was finally going to tell her. I'd written a message to her and told her that I needed to speak to her, that it was important, one of the most important things that I've said to somebody. When I went on to talk to her, she sent me a picture of herself with this man Justin that she'd been on again off again for several years with. The picture froze me in my tracks. I took a moment, looking at it, his arm around her and the smile on her face that was there to tell me that I didn't belong in her life. I was the last man that she would choose. I'd been dreaming for days about finally telling the woman that I love that I wanted to be with her. What I got was a wedding invitation from Tabatha to her wedding with Justin. Justin, I told her, was a nice man and I'd be more than happy to come out. Of course she told me that there was nobody she'd rather have at the wedding than me. She said that she had big plans, huge plans on having me there, that I could watch her kids and animals for her while she was on her honeymoon. She had it all planned out. The whole time I was sitting there looking at the screen of my phone, that screen on my phone, and she wanted to video chat. Video chat? I couldn't let her see the tears streaming down my face. I couldn't let her see that my heart was torn, ripped out by this picture that she'd just sent me. I took a deep long breath and held it all in. No. No, I replied slowly, I had something else to do and... I was driving yes driving. I couldn't be on it now. I'd only pulled over to answer her message. I'd held it all in, every bit of my feelings, and I'd respond when I could get to a stop light or a stop sign or something else. I made it all sound good, every bit of it right down to my eyes staring at her. All of it a lie as I was sitting on my porch going back inside, tears streaming down my face and eyes that burnt with a soft gaze to her warm hot cleavage being caressed in a picture by another man. I kept it, for reference, for any time I felt that I wanted to be with her again. Justin, I thought about him, looked at his picture. He was covered in tattoos, he looked like a biker punk to me that was something I'd never want to be or look like. He was the type of bad boy that I was not, I knew who he was, and I knew that every time she was around him it was a storied legacy of drama that she couldn't control herself around. Justin, it was Justin who had been responsible for single handedly getting her in trouble with a judge after she had caught her husband cheating on her. It was a shoe in for her custody, there was no question all three of them would be in her care and not his, but Justin stepped in and wanted to prove himself to Tabatha. He had gotten on his bike and rode over to her husband, the week before the hearing, and in a drunken rage smashed in the windshield and slashed the tires of the man's car. There were cameras, there were witnesses, and it became the reason why she didn't have the stability in her life to even have her kids. Justin, though never charged and protected by her, made her the scapegoat and she herself admitted to doing the act. Justin, the man with no balls who she'd caught looking at porn on his phone and doing everything wrong in her life, she was marrying him. They had been steamy, deadly to one another, I never thought they would get married! "What was it you wanted to tell me?" she asked me in a message, after laying all of that on me. I gave myself some time to think, some time to come up with a better answer than the one I had. My answer should have been that she just ripped every bit of my heart out and left it there on the floor without any effort at all. I didn't give that answer, I told her simply that I had a gift for her, something that I'd been wanting to give her ever since she left this other guy named Jeremy. She'd essentially, told me with that one line about Justin, that she'd been seeing them both at the same time. Like two stags fighting over a doe, she had taken Justin over Jeremy, and allowed herself to belong to the strongest one among them. "I'm going to marry Justin." She said to me, "There is nobody else that my heart belongs to. Not my ex-husband or anybody else. I realize this now and I want to start a family with him so that I can finally be happy with the freedom that I have." I would find out the truth soon enough. It was more than Justin beating Jeremy in a game of prey in the battle of the sexes. It was her playing a game as well that involved three men, three men at once. For the time being, I agreed with what she was doing and agreed to go out and see her. I'd dated another girl out that way and had to ask her the truth about it. "Is Vicki going to be there at the wedding?" Vicki being the girl that I had long dated before I'd ever met Tabatha, who had introduced us, and who had bad blood with me. Her answer, "No." Was all that I needed to hear. I felt like shit that day into the next, and went out and bought a present for Tabatha. I forget what it even was at this point and it really doesn't matter that much in the scheme of things. I was the walking wounded, a man with a shattered heart and soul for a woman who didn't even love me enough to know that I'd existed. I'd pined over her, dreamt about her, felt a deeper connection to her than any other woman in my life. I'd planned on driving all of the way down south on my own. I'd never been to Alabama before, only one time with my father and his friend Jon on our way to Florida, and my father was not somebody to stop in one place for long even to take a piss anywhere. My father was a full on speed junkie at driving, he wanted to get there as fast and smooth as possible when we went to Florida. A man who loved road trips, he tore the road up between places, that holy sacred road as if it were his church on those occasions having friends like Jon everywhere and everywhere that they were was like one home he had and left behind for another. His feet never stayed on the ground long enough to have grass growing underneath of them. It was he that I turned to about the trip, to go it alone and get the idea for it. "I don't think you should go it alone." My father said, standing in his Panama Jack hat and toting a glass of brandy in his hand. "When I went down there for Jon it was two days just to pick up a camper and drive it back. That's a long assed trip for one person." "I can do it." I lied, knowing I'd never driven anything like that before. I'd ridden sure, but to drive it, no. "You'll get tired and not know it. The road is holy. I've always told you it's holy." He had a million times through the years, "And I want to go through it with you. Bond, yes bond, find something of communion between the stars and open up to one another. Fishing, maybe even hiking. Down south, that's all flat and bogs, old black boys working jobs still twenty years ago you'd see. How long have you known this girl?" Our conversation took us into the kitchen as I lied, like about my answer, "Tabatha? I've known her a long time. She's a stable genius in my book. She's got three kids and her wedding is going to be something I wouldn't miss for the world. I've planned on going for months." A lie that he caught with my eyes. "Months. Really." He tipped his head back and took a deep breath, "An honor for you to go then and you should be there. The promises you make to a friend are the most important kind by far. By far. You think she'd mind an old fart showing up to be another face in the crowd?" "I already have a gift for her." I told him, and thought about all of the money he had saved up over the years since my mother had passed away to do things. My father lived a life of simplicity, and liked the simple things, the road and the people that he met. He wasn't one to buy the best brandy or the best hat. His had, though still in good shape, was like an old friend that he held and carried with him for ages and ages since. He belated stories about the road, were like souvenirs that he kept wrapped up in his heart. Him going was just another adventure that I couldn't say no to the old man or break his heart doing. "You wouldn't be imposing." I told him, "Not in the least. I've told her all about you!" I hadn't. "Well you don't have to worry." He got a shit eating smile on his face, and that was when he told me, "You just can't trust people these days. The road is my church, and every church should have wheels to take you up to the alter and back, son. I've been planning on something and I rolled with it, and when you roll with something you have to do it with all of your heart." He went on to tell me, "I bought this camper with the money I've been saving, so that I can get back to the roots. No more sleeping in my car at a rest stop with my gun on my lap. With this I'll be able to roll on into a rest stop and crawl in the back with the doors locked and sleep wherever I want. Since you graduated college, I'll have more time to do things for myself and live out of it." His answer, his answer for cheap motels and shitty continental breakfast was that, a nearly brand new camper that he'd been looking at and picked out in secret but hadn't picked up yet. "That's a little much and a crazy idea. Those things are like a car and you have to maintain them." "Yes yes." He played with his hat, "But you see it's what I've always wanted and you only live once. I wanted to do this with your mother long ago, get one of these and live in it with her. Find a place every day that was a new sunrise. Well, the same sunrise but a new view of it." Then she had died, when I was younger, and left him with a child to raise and years of working hard at his own business, one that I had partially gotten into under him. His dreams had been dashed up against the rocks of life because, "When you're raising a kid like you, it's more important than toys." I smiled at the old man, or so I thought of him as one, here was a man who had sacrificed everything for me and this was his dream. His dream wasn't to retire in Florida and fade into obscurity. His dream wasn't to take what he had and give it one last go at a mid-life crisis that he couldn't afford, go snorkeling off the coast of Hawaii or do something stupid. His dream was to hit the road one last time, the wild child of the wheels and pavement, going off like a cowboy one last time riding whatever adventure would carry him. He'd always called it that, travelling, one wild ride at a time on a metal pony not knowing the direction. "That sounds like a good deal then." I told him, thinking of our trip together. I was looking forward to it, seeing pictures he'd taken of the thing and how excited that he was, "When are you picking it up?" "This week. This week!" he smiled, beaming ear to ear with that stupid hat on his head and glass of brandy, "Even has a place where I can put in a little bar for a drink when I want it. Not driving though." It changed the whole direction of where I was going with my trip out there. I didn't want to go alone, I'd had a contingency plan of going with my friend Gary whom I'd known since high school. It would be better if Gary stayed back on this adventure. While my father went over it with me, the camper and all of the special perks he'd thrown into it like The Captain's Bunk for himself, I was texting Gary. Gary was of course upset to not go, I'd told him on many occasions about this Tabatha and shown him pictures of her. Her beauty to him, he said, was epic. He had a word for her and the type of body that she had, from what he'd seen, the way that her ass rolled down to a perfect apple shape the way that he liked. "Oh man." He texted me, "I wanted to go. I know this'll be hard for you. A brother wants to be there for a brother. I'll hit you up the next time then." My father packed everything with him that night, and so did I, getting ready for a trip to Alabama with a banjo on my knee to see my sweet Tabatha marry a man who wasn't me. I had my glock and case it came in, the weather would be fine. The broken heart that wouldn't zip, that alone was mine. I went over lyrics in my head, from dusk until dawn. Taking everything I needed with me, knowing it was my swan song. I took the glock in case of trouble, you never know what kind of trouble you'll run into on the road, that mad road going on ahead of you with the golden rule to your left and the white line of heaven on your right everything in between coming and going. America, it can not be overstated these days, is full of crazy people, not all are but the ones you run into you have to be on your guard for. I've seen the most beautiful examples and the most evil examples of humanity out there, so I left prepared for either one. It was... uneventful. On our drive out there, I didn't see anything that caught my eye to even be inspired by. The old man was right about Alabama and the deep south that we drove through. We drove through huge cities that looked like the gleaming stars of Mecca shining with all of the beauty and culture that you dream about. There were building so high that they looked like they'd touch heaven itself lit up at night, and driving through that sea of lights they lit up like stars through the Milky Way and I was just one traveler on the way. I was one traveler going way up and looking way back, drowning in the inspiration of it all. Then there were forests that seemed to go on forever, away from the cities, where poor men worked the fields and the smell of peanut dust seemed to choke you. It was there that I saw great souls of men living in the most run down huts, pride on their chest for what they had, in the early morning lighting their kitchens with a pot of coffee ready to go and keep it all working again. The unsung heroes that I saw on the journey there, who never even saw me or knew that I existed in the immensity of it all. Their life stories were like the road itself, something pointed out to me by my father to take note of, as his emotional reach for freedom bore into my own heart and made me see all of the stories I'd grown up with him hearing about. Years ago on my journey with Jon and him, it had not been this way. Jon played off of my father's energy, had told him stories how my father had saved his marriage. I was younger at the time, not willing to see more than the window and what was faintly beyond it. I took to the warmth of the truck that we drove down and lay in the back watching a movie, my eyes glued to that, falling asleep and waking up with my legs stiff from not moving. It was back then the most boring trip of all, I'd ignored every bit of it. I now regretted that as we got down to Alabama for the wedding. I'd wasted many other trips that I wanted to go back and relive with him. "You see." My father said, "It is just like the bible. There are the kings and the queens. The well off and the poor. But all of them are equal and when you pass by, you just see people and what they're all working towards. It's all just a dream after all." When we got there, we had two days until the wedding. Two days, and we didn't really fit in or know anybody. Tabatha and Justin were so busy getting ready for the wedding that we briefly saw anything of them. She apologized to me for it, that she didn't have time to spend with me and really talk. I was understanding, looking into her deep blue oceanic eyes again and being drawn in, the woman that I loved didn't have time for me and I'd drive all of this way. I did with it what I do with all pain, I locked it away in a safe box that couldn't be felt or touched or dealt with even by myself. I went to see the Space Rocket Center, not far from where Tabatha lives on my own with my father in the meantime, and then on the way back caught her with a little more time than I had before. It was at her house, getting ready for the wedding plans with her and Justin. He was not there, as I'd hoped to meet him again and get more of an idea of what I could do as a man to help him out, so I had some time alone with her to make matters worse for how I felt about her. Alone with Tabatha, with my father waiting in the camper to see what we were going to do. It was less crowded this time and she came to the door in a pair of jeans and a small tight brown shirt that showed off her cleavage in a way that I couldn't overlook. I walked up those tall steps to her place, the camper parked in her long driveway and wished they were better circumstances for me. She had a gleaming smile on her face, one that lit up her eyes, the kind that I'd seen in her pictures that reminded me why I'd fallen head over heels in love with her. "It is so good to see you!" Tabatha wrapped her arms around me, hugging me when I came close to her, I could feel what space between us and looked down to her perfect ass and how it filled them out the way Gary had said, "I didn't want to ever get married without you. Did you see a little bit? You're here so early." "I saw some Space thing." I tried to sound unimpressed by it, "It was more my father's doing than my own. He wants to see this shit." "Your father." She seemed to think about the situation. I'd told her he'd be coming, "He must have a good bit of money to afford a camper like that. I'm impressed and I like it. I'd like to travel in something like that, in style." She seemed to be bejeweled over the look of the camper, leaning out the door even through the hug to see it. It was expensive, it was beautiful, and it was more than my father could afford. "Running his own business." I told her, taking a deep breath, "And you? Going to be a bride again? I had to admit I was shocked. I can't imagine... I hope... I don't want things to change between us." My heart sank and I had trouble looking her in the eyes over it. She laughed it off, could see in my eyes what I had seen in her eyes. I was in love with her. "Oh nothing will change unless you want it to. William, I'm marrying a good guy. A really good guy. Justin and I have known each other for so long that I know every tick to him. After being married and then with Jeremy, I want more. I want stability. I want something that I can rely on without being judged for my tits or how I look." I paused as she spoke, not listening to all of it, "I don't really know him. He seems nice. Was he..." She interrupted me, "Justin was in the war, he's a little crazy sometimes and that's why he has those bombs and tribal on his arm. I think that's what sold me, seeing a man willing to give everything for his country when it calls on him. That kind of Service is noteworthy." "Army, marines?" I asked her. "Air Force." She smiled, "He was one of the people who worked the most dangerous job. He was overseas, but more importantly he was Stateside for homeland security. That's really where most of the danger people don't know about is." She had either been well trained and drug along by his bullshit on that, or she was feeding herself a lie to get what she wanted from him. It made me almost sour on her, on why she was with this man. There was more under the surface than I could put my finger on. Something wasn't right and the way that she talked about him, it was almost as if she was trying to sell me on him more than she was trying to sell herself on him. Justin was far from a disciplined hero, I didn't need to know a lot to know that. "I think you'll learn to love him as much as I do." She said in an almost childlike voice, humming to herself, then handed me a piece of paper after a bit of conversation, "Here, I told Justin I'd send you over to help him out a little bit today. I told him you're a dear old friend and that I wanted you to get to know him better. I want to feel the love between you two, my two favorite people." Flattered, but not really, I thanked her and told my father that we'd be meeting up with Justin. Leaving Tabatha was a bummer, still something lingered in me that didn't make me feel comfortable being there with her. I didn't want to be around her, something had changed and was deep and dark about her that stuck in the back of my mind the whole trip there. It was down the road where we could meet him. The parking was horrible, just a small spot along the road where I was afraid the mud would slip up into the tires and we'd have to be towed away. Justin was, of course, Justin. Medium build with dark unremarkable hair, strong thick arms from going to the gym, a baseball cap on with all of his tattoos that I'd seen in the picture there for me. Right across his heart was the one most visible to me, that annoyed me the most, it was Tabatha's name written across it. Though friendly, I had to hold off the urge to punch him right in his face when he gave me that ridiculous smile that he gave me. My first real meeting with the man who would cloud my future for the next few years as I thought about how much I was in love with his future wife hoping they'd break up soon and that she'd fall into my arms and life again. All of which was true in it's own way. He met us at the gate, waiting there like a vaudeville clown leaning against the fence as we pulled in. One arm pulled in against the other with a marionette sort of twist to his walk that held him back up at the twist of his foot. "Oh man, you made it man. I'm so stoked. It's a great thing to have you here and Tabs wanted you to be here. She just texted me and said you were on your way with your Pops and all that. We're ready to tie the knot finally, just the way we think it should be. All one big family and it wouldn't be one without you here. I just..." The man was one big rambling thought, as if he'd been doing speed all of his life, his eyes and words racing so fast that I couldn't keep track. I simply held out my arm, which he shook my hand non stop, and I said, "William. William Semo." "Justin." He chirped mid-sentence then catching himself right back, "This used to be a planation years ago and been in my uncle's family so it's all good to come out here and get back to my roots and the smell of the farm. It really gets down in the pores of my skin and like a swoosh of a tail I'm back up cow licked and double dogged to get ready for this just for her. Now that she finally said yes to me." "She said yes. I'm glad she did. She needs a man like you." I couldn't picture the two of them together, getting a word in to my surprise, the way that she seemed annoyed by long winded men. I pictured Justin and Jeremy in one stag like standoff with horned locked and him not shutting up once. No wonder he won. Jeremy probably gave up just to drown out the sound. His voice was as unremarkable as him, if not for the tattoos, he was the kind of man that could disappear into a crowd and never been seen. His voice was mid-western and not southern like the other people I'd met, which lead me to believe that his story of being from around there was an entire lie. Facts were not something of interest to me in his relationship with Tabatha. This, this would not last, and I smiled at it and what it was. I'd do the wedding and leave and probably get a message from her before I reached my house that she wanted to divorce him and be with me. "My family has money, so it's no problem. Her dad, her mom, they won't chip in." he went on as we walked with him down the lane, "Her mom said there's this big falling out and her dad won't help with it, so they said if she wants to get hitched then she's going to have to do it herself. But I'm going to drain my account if I have to just to make it good for her. Good for her is good for me. She's got big plans and all." He turned to my father and looked back at the camper, Justin's eyes had seemed drawn to it since we first pulled in, "But my big plans, Pops do you mind if I call you Pops? I want to get something like that, only maybe a foot or two bigger. I want room for a little something extra after the misses and I get together so we can blow off a little stink and get a little air between us under our feet." My father seemed honored by the title, to my annoyance, and told him all of the specs about the camper as the two seemed to have a mind meld. Justin was a vocal talker, a wide eyed latter day frat boy that I drew a bead on in my mind. "I rent a place, a little flat you know because my rental just isn't for me and too big and bright and full of windows facing directions I'm not interested in looking at. I'll tell you Pops, if I had one like that I could have the life I'm dreaming of. I've never had stability other than this great mind of mine and dreaming to see the road like I live it, one adventure after another, riding it all in a set of wheels. The old lady has her own place, well soon to be old lady, and I have a place to tuck my head in under my neck without the landlord riding my ass over late payments and rent." I was not impressed, he was using his military service to get over on her and take advantage of her, but for what? To get a warm place to stay without having to pay rent. She thought that he had money, but it from what I understood it belonged to his family and not to him. Justin had rented off of his aunt as a promissory that he would do the upkeep and take care of the place. He had many misdemeanors from his time working in labor yards and then going into bars getting bombed out drunk. There were times in college that he had started fights and been arrested for it. His life had been one big party, but then there was the road. That sacred road. The one word that he said to my father that made it all sink in, the road to him was a spiritual thing as well. It was a place to ride and to ride off into the sunset to. For one man it was an opportunity to live a life that he'd never had after his wife had passed away. For the other man, it was a way to run away from every responsibility and obligation that he had in it. "You're a lot like me son..." my father tried to get a word in. "You think Pops? Man I like that." Justin froze with a beam of light touching his heart with that, "Like you how so? I mean I'm just a shmuck trying to get through all of this. I'm nowhere near you, and that hat I'd really like to have something like that with your style for an old dude." "Yeah I do." My father took the hat and straightened it out a bit, "You're like a younger version of me. When I was your age, and in the Navy, I saw the world as just that. An adventure, and what you're doing for this Tabatha and being a part of her life, I really like it a lot. It says a lot for a man." I could take little of it and walked off with my eyes glazing over in boredom. I went for a walk around the building taking it all in and thinking about what I'd just heard. My father had made a new best friend in Justin, a young man that he saw more of himself in than myself? Or was he just on one of his stories he'd go into later about the road and make Justin one tragic example of a lost soul or angel that he'd found and set back on the path with. I didn't know which, but hearing my father talk about how Justin and Tabatha were made for each other, it made me feel terrible inside, had my father not seen for himself how I loved that woman and wanted to be with her? I had hinted on it the entire drive there, telling him how Tabatha and I stayed up until sunrise talking on the phone together, then complained how we got no sleep and had to go to work the next day because of it. She was the woman that sent my heart fluttering in every direction, and here he was encouraging the asshole who was taking her from me that it was a good cause in the right direction. I felt defeated, lost, and the feeling in my stomach made me feel sick for what I fool I'd been made of. Why'd I even come out here? I pondered. When I met up with them, they were still engaged in talk about life and the military. As usual, my father just nodded along trying to get a word in edgewise. I caught up in time to hear Justin drive the nail into my heart about Tabatha, or so I thought, "She's so good. And she never stops talking about your son here. He's somebody she says she can talk to him about anything with." "That's true." My father patted my on the shoulder and seemed to praise me, "Justin here tells me you've been a good loyal friend to his wife. I told him that maybe they can go with us on a trip, as I'll have a lot of free time with this camper to do things." "That sounds good." I noted, "Since I'm working for myself and helping him out more. I'm flattered. Tabatha is like a sister to me, really like a sister, the one I've never had." Justin seemed to know some of this history between us, but wondered, "How did you two actually meet? I know she came out to see you with that douchenizzle that she drove out with, up for that conference and whatnot. She's never said a lot to me." I had to think about it, and it took me a moment. I tapped my fingers together with a deep breath, "Oh that would be Vicki. I dated this girl Vicki who was going to college in Vermont and I had a thing for her accent. We dated for a few months and I got to know Tabatha through her, online and then in person. We were serious but thinks fell apart when she couldn't continue her studies and had to move back down here. I haven't spoken to her since to be honest." "Vicki." Justin gave me a pat on the back, "I don't think you'll have to worry. I can see it in your eyes man. That ex material is like x'd out. I don't think she's invited to the wedding." I held my head and sighed, "Then you know her? Vicki? You know Vicki?" It was a long story and I'd told little of it. Vicki had been a wreck on my life. She had left me in pieces when she left me. I had faced the wrath of her, first of all not wanting to have kids if we got together, then secondly saying how she really felt more attracted to women than men. I'd tried to understand it from her, what she saw in other women and not me, and her only response had been that only a woman knows what a woman wants. It was drama I couldn't take, and I didn't want to run into her and relive the pain of losing one woman while watching one I currently loved get married. "I met her sure. She's that little blonde, a real bitch. She stopped by, didn't say a lot but wanted me to split while she took Tabs out to eat somewhere. They were like two birds you know, on a wire just whispering." He drummed his chin, "But I don't think she's invited. If she is, I'll let you know, look into it and make sure you're not going to have a couples dance. Unless you want to..." "No I don't, Justin." I let him take a step in front of me with my father and thought about Vicki. It was amazing how I could go from loving somebody like her to hating her. There was a time when running into her and the sight of her would make my heart skip a beat. Now if I saw her, it would make me want to run in the other direction. "You man." He went back to Vicki and turned full circle, "If she is there, let me tell you, she's been without a man for a long time. You need to get that ass when you can, back up with that shit in the ex direction. She'll see you and want to want to know if that old wang is still what tickles her fancy and a little breakup or makeup is better than never should have. I had to practically stalk Tabatha when she was with that guy Jeremy to get her back, but it was worth it. I told him to hit the bricks and let her know that she was mine. You can't let a bitch walk on you just like that." "So you forced your way into her life?" I chuckled at that, "I can't see that. She would have told me you were some creeper." "Nah nah man. I mean I had to let her know who the man was. Women want that. They all secretly want to be treated rough and get it like that." He mused as if looking back at a lifetime of need, then dropped it on me, "But she's playing it back. I'm going through a very dry spell. She says not until the wedding. She's a born again virgin and found god and wants it to mean something." I laughed, I couldn't hold back, my hand on his shoulder for the first time making him shut up. It was his pride in conquest at going for something and getting it. His biggest fear was that she wouldn't give it up to him, "Give her time. She's a woman that loves you for who you are." It repulsed me as much as it made me laugh, his view of women. In all of my years and all of the women that I'd been with, never once had I seen them as something to objectify or keep a notch on the bedpost. I saw her as somebody that I knew, that I loved, going for that son of a bitch. After he walked away I couldn't hold my anger back looking at my father, "I can't stand him or him marrying her. I can't believe Tabatha would marry HIM." My father, always the wise man of the world, put him words into one observation, "It's her life, not your life. She's the one marrying him, not you. I suppose people do all kinds of things when they are lonely or pushed into a situation. If you're lucky, it won't work out, but that's not good wishing ill on others. The next guy could be worse for her. Accept people for who they are on the road, then move on. This Justin is an amicable young man at least." I thought about it, took it all in what he said and nodded, "I still don't like seeing my friend being played like that." "It's their wedding." He told me, then went over some of the plans that Justin had laid out for us. I was to call him anytime I wanted to help out, or to go out drinking with him and the boys. There was no pressure to be put on me. My father had written it all down for me and placed it in my shirt pocket, adding, "I know it's more than that. You really love this girl. You really really love this girl." I had hoped he would see it, now I was too pissed off to agree with it. He could see right through me and had orchestrated this whole talk with Justin being his mini-me just to try and give me space to decompress. He knew that I would blow if I knew what was going on. It was his use of psychology, as he called it. "No, I don't." I kicked the gravel with my foot, "I'm protective of her. She's just a friend, nothing more. I've told her everything about me and nobody not even you know half as much." # Chapter Two: Alabama The next day was crazy, the pure craziness that weddings become when you don't know what is going on and everybody around you seems to know what they are doing. I tried to get in touch with Tabatha and Justin to see what the plans were for the day, after getting no response from either one of them, I sat in the camper and waited. I waited around for most of the afternoon, just me and my thoughts, sitting in her backyard knowing that in a few short hours the girl I had a crush on was going to be Mrs. Justin Pryor. I was not looking forward to it, not looking forward to the ceremony at all, but I had committed myself to it. I was ready to get in the camper and go for a trip to find something to do when Tabatha finally showed up for me at her house. I had wanted something quick to eat, something to lead me past a roaring mid-morning hunger when she pulled in quickly like some maniac at her driveway nearly hitting me. It was a friend of hers driving who I'd never met before but was going to meet this long list of women that she called bridesmaids. She'd planned on letting me know what the itinerary was and had shown up with a few of her bridesmaids that were with her. These were girls that I'd heard of, seen post on her facebook and knew them from their comments but had never met in person. Each one was a different kind of bad influence on her in ways I'd seen and heard about. There was first her sister Joeann, who was a little taller than Tabatha and a few years older than her, the only member of her family that wanted to be there. The rest had avoided this marriage, having been to the first one, they had come to regard Tabatha as sort of a bit too much drama in their lives. Joeann had lived with Tabatha for a few months prior, and according to Tabatha had not been able to help to pay the bills with her. This lead to a phone call about her in which she had told me their entire life story growing up, and how now she couldn't stand to be in the car with her because of something funky going on down there. When I asked down where, she began to beat around the bush about Joeann, and it was the first horrible thing on my mind when she shook my hand. I looked down at her hand and saw those long thing fingers as I shook it, expecting to find some mess of a woman that Tabatha felt she had to take care of, but I didn't. Though two years older, she had the same grace and kindness that Tabatha had, and even more than Tabatha I saw something light up in her eyes at me. "I've heard a lot about you." Joeann admitted to me, drawing me in for a hug, "My sister has spoken non stop about you. I swear you're like a god to her." "She has?" I felt flattered and looked at Tabatha, who didn't seem to bat an eye over it. Joeann's long dark hair seemed to cascade down her back as she turned, "I hope all good." "Oh definitely." And in that moment she was gone and I wondered what was said about me. I almost had the feeling that Tabatha had coached her sister on this, on what to say and how to say it to me. It left me puzzled about the two women. Next, and she passed me by, was Tonya. Tonya just said hi, in the most snotty rude way, with her bossy resting bitch face stuck that way from living a life all about herself. She'd been one of Tabatha's bar buddies who had helped her to buy this house that she was living in, and was not a fan of Justin. She was a user and all of the men that had been in her life were just accessories to it. I brushed past her as I would any other troublemaker that I'd met. The one I didn't get to talk to, Kelli, was a chunky dark haired airhead that used to get on my nerves online when she'd talk. She never did talk a lot in real life, only to Tabatha, who she'd talk in long non ending rants to about make up and men and all of these things that I didn't care about. It was all about the wedding to her as she walked pressed like glue to Tabatha. There was a closeness between Tabatha and Kelli, something I couldn't put my finger on. Did I sense a look I could only describe as love and affection in Kelli's eyes aimed her way? "So this is your camper?" Tabatha finally noticed it, though she had to have seen it before. She had, in fact, this was her first time really getting a good look at it. There where wheels spinning in her head. "Can I show it to the girls here?" "Sure." I unlocked it and opened it for them, "It's a mess because I'm living in it. Don't mind it." I let them walk in and see my underwear all over the floor, a bag of potato chips and a dirty plate that I needed to wash in the sink though there was no water in it. I continued showing them around, "It's old school, none of those fancy pull outs that weaken the floor. My dad wanted something a little like when he grew up." As they looked around and exited, Tabatha looked at her friends and sighed, holding the door. She tossed her keys to her sister, "Girls, I need a minute. I need to talk to William alone about the wedding and I'll catch up to ya'll inside ok? It was then that my father came out of the back, having slept in a bit, in his underwear himself. I wondered how they hadn't seen him in all of the confusion. His hair was a mess and his belly was hanging out as well as other parts of him that I know Tabatha saw. She just ignored the situation and grabbed me with a tight hug. "I'm glad you could make it here, again. Yesterday I didn't get much of a chance to tell you." Her head was racing a mile a minute when she told me, "You've met Justin. Now that you've met him I need to know what you think. Am I making a big mistake here? I mean, William, would you marry this guy?" "Would I marry him?" I cringed at the thought of being in her shoes. I didn't know what to say. Part of me wanted to tell her hell no she shouldn't marry this guy, she should run in the opposite direction. Who was I to judge her and Justin? Who was I to judge the man who had been clearly showing off to us the day before, and that only as long as I'd known him. "I'm not you. My father seemed to like him." "He calls me Pops." My father chuckled, and I saw a strange look on Tabatha's face that she was enjoying the story as he told it, "And he liked my bucket of bolts here. He said when he marries you, he wants to get one and let you two ride out on that holy highway to find what the meaning of real love is. I admire him, he's a fine young man and he has goals. Real goals in life." The only goals I'd seen from Justin was him telling me about how he liked getting with women. I thought my father had lost his mind, but it was his opening to go from the half naked man who had woken up on the wrong side of the bed to the man this young woman would be inspired by. "It's all about changing the scenery." He went on about it, "That's what you want. Not some idiot that's going to work all day leaving you at home looking out a window dreaming about it. The kid has soul, almost stole my hat. Where is that damn hat?" She helped him look for it, finding it under a shirt handing it to him with the shirt as he tucked it under his arm and tried to put the hat on first only to realize that he needed to have the shirt on to put the hat on, "This is a good point. You father and you can get to know Justin then." My father took out his phone and began to speak, preaching to us about life as we stood there. It made me wonder if it were I marrying Tabatha would it be he doing this? Then it made me see a little bit of Justin's attitude in him, something I'd never noticed about the old man before. "I got sick of the only boring life I knew, so I wanted to retire a bit earlier than was allowed. I started working for myself and this is what I saved up for, a dream to round out the road that I'd spent so long on and promised his mother we'd see. She never lived to see it. The single life, it's overrated and I wanted to do this with her, you'd both be better off doing it together. I..." She cupped her hand against his face, "Peter, you should. You really should. It is never too late. You have to have somebody in your life. Justin and I have been, and William will tell you this, on again off again for years. I've spent a lot of time alone by myself and part of that is wanting something more. That's why I asked him, and you as well, am I doing this for the right reasons? Is he the man that I want to be with? Am I overthinking it?" "You're doing what you dream of, and that's your road." He looked at her as if she were his own daughter. There was a moment of pause between them, a moment when Tabatha seemed to bite her lip and make a decision on her life. She took her hand and dug deep into her purse and placed something into his hand, tucking his fingers over it. "My father can't be at my wedding. I want you to have this, one of his rings that he used to wear. I was going to take it with me tomorrow to feel him there, but I really sort of do now and my heart is telling me to do this. If you could be there, wear this tonight into tomorrow and even walk me down that isle... I'd be getting my dreams that I want. There is nobody to give me away." Watching this scene, I wondered why she didn't ask her ex-husband or Jeremy to walk her down the isle. It was all too theatrical for my tastes, I didn't understand what she had to gain by leading the old man on. Justin had done this as well, by calling him Pops. She took his hat and straightened it out. "You know, Peter." She saw his heart melt at her, "I can see why Justin thinks so highly of you. You're a good man and you have your own business, bought all of this yourself. Who can't admire that!" My father put the ring on right away, right next to the ring that he wore that my mother had given him. I knew the two had not been married, but it made him feel like it. This second ring he put on and smiled, humbled to his core, "I'd be so honored to do that for you tomorrow." "I just needed my daddy there with me." She seemed to be caught up in her emotions. The last I'd checked, her father was still alive. I never told my father this fact, just let it slide and wonder what kind of woman Tabatha really was for leading him on like that. She patted the old man's hand and gave me another hug and told us that tomorrow was the bigge