Full Circle

The heat swirls around my head while the wind in the rest stop picks up. Dust is in the air trying to make its way to my eyes, but my sunglasses are blocking it out… mostly. I had been standing here, waiting for her to finally be done in the bathroom, but she was taking her time. She knew as well as I did that the longer we waited, the hotter it was going to be in the truck. A truck that did not have the greatest working air conditioning system. It was the whole reason we left as early as we did, to beat the heat.

We were supposed to be driving north to Denver to visit her father before driving up to stay at the Stanley Hotel. She still had no idea that it was our final stop, but her birthday surprise would have been ruined if I told her about it. She assumed the trip was to simply see her dad for her birthday, but that was the point. I check my watch knowing I would like to be on the road so we can make it before dark.

On que, she comes jogging out of the bathroom doors. Well, it’s more of an awkward skip. She’s a weak runner so she looks more like a baby gazelle learning to walk. It is one of the cutest things I have ever seen and is worth waiting in the heat.

“Sorry, baby,” she says. She comes up to me and reaches on the tips of her toes to kiss me on the cheek. “No more unscheduled stops. I promise.” I shake my head with a smile on my face.

“A huh,” I say. “Whatever you say gorgeous.” I open the door and help her up into the truck.

We thundered along, still six hours left to go, and the weather was not letting up. Most of the trip was all desert with the temps working their way up into the mid-nineties. The fans were blowing full blast, but the air was lukewarm compared to the freezing chill we would have gotten had she let us drive her car. Correction, if she let me drive her car. Her stubbornness landed us in the eighty-five-degree cab of my truck instead, my back feeling as if it was sticking to the leather seats.

“We finished The Boyfriend a little while back,” she says beside me, scrolling through the audio books we had bookmarked for the trip. “Which one should we jump into next?”

“How about The Shining?” I say, knowing full well the statement will go over her head.

“Haven’t you read that one like three times already?” I can feel the eye roll in her tone, but a glance out of the corner of my eye sees the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Like you’re any better,” I chuckle. “You’ve read it more times than I have.”

“Because it’s SO good!”

“Well then, put it on,” I challenge.

“All right,” she says. “I will.” She hits the button on her phone to start the book then sets it down in one of the empty cup holders.

I watch in the corner of my eye as she curls up in the seat, brining her knees up to her chest then leans into the center console. One of my hands drops to rest over my left pocket and I feel the too familiar bulge of the velvet box in my pocket. I wanted to wait until closer to Halloween, but the timing seemed right with her birthday coming up. It was the ever-growing desire to surprise her with it for her birthday. Between the ring, the two room reservation at the Stanley, the gas I would need for the truck, and the book set I planned on offering to her father as a peace offering, it was shaping up to be the best birthday ever for her. Not to mention the most expensive one yet.

A couple more hours went by, and the sun was starting to sink behind us. The book was still playing through the blue tooth function in the radio, but as I glance over, I see that she has long since stopped listening to it. He eyes have drifted shut, and she is snoring ever so faintly in her seat. It is a picture worthy moment, and I reach into the cupholder to retrieve my phone. It doesn’t take much effort to open the camera, but it takes me a couple of tries to get the picture just right. Taking a picture while driving is not one of the smartest things in the world, but I allow myself the liberty of it with the empty road. I glance at the screen to make sure the one I captured was worth it. It is.

I set the phone back into the cupholder, smiling at the image of her sleeping beside me. Though I am not able to relish in it for long. When I glance up ahead of me, I see that an animal has wandered onto the highway. I swerve to keep out of its path and miss it by only a few inches it feels like. There is a sigh of relief building in my lungs, but my breath catches.

My truck skids as I force the wheel in the other direction. I slam on the brakes hoping it will straighten itself out, but it only skids further sideways. The steering wheel goes slack in my hands, and all control is taken from me. The tires catch on the asphalt and force the truck to tip on its side. Now we are tumbling over and over as the view out of my windows alternate between the road and the sky. I close my eyes and try not to be sick.

When I open them again, I am in a dimly lit room that is filled with a rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. There is a tube down my throat and it hurts. My hands fly to my face to try and pry it out, but my hands are tied to the bed. Most likely to keep me from doing so. A nurse rushes in and does what she can to calm me down. It works for a moment and allows for them to tag team removing the breathing apparatus from my mouth.

“Where?” I ask hoarsely.

“Where what?” the first nurse asks.

“Where is she?” I force out, struggling to find my voice. “My girlfriend.”

The two look at one another, and my heart sinks, but it’s not pity that forms on their faces. They are sharing a look of confusion.

“Sir,” she begins. “You were found alone in your vehicle. There was no one with you.”

Her words wrap around my brain and pull the memory from the depths. I remember her leaving me and moving in with her dad in Colorado. Then I remember getting in the truck and driving the icy winter roads to her, hoping to make it to her before the sunrise. Then why was I remembering the summer winds with the rippling heat and rolling dust clouds? I rack my brain, and then it hits me. We never made it out of the rest stop. Though, halfway to Denver, she decided she no longer wanted to go. We never made it to the Stanley that summer because we had gotten into an argument. The heat in the truck wore us down. She didn’t want to make the trip there and back without cool air to accompany her.

The ring I bought was sitting either in a pawn shop or on someone else’s hand at this moment. I could not convince myself to keep the ring after that fiasco. All of that anger and hatred she seemed to harbor toward me in the end. It was why I was trying so hard to make it to Denver. To surprise her in hopes she would take me back and finally erase that summer from my memory. Looks like I will be reliving it for a little while longer.