2. The Drive
563 Words
6:15 p.m.
"Here's your change, sweetie," the cashier says, handing me my money and bag of assorted road trip snacks. I take them and put the change in my wallet.
"Thank you," I reply and head to my car.
As I'm buckling my seatbelt, my phone rings. The sound of Chris Stapleton's Tennessee Whiskey fills the car and I dig through my purse to find it. Once I retrieve it, I slide the call button over with my thumb.
"Hello?"
"Hey, sweet girl. How's the drive going?" My father, Dominic, asks.
I smile at the sound of his voice. He's everything I've ever imagined a father should be. My mother would never call to see how I'm doing or what I'm up to. It's just not in her nature.
"I stopped to get some snacks. I should be there in the next hour. How are you doing, Daddy?"
"I'm just fine, honey. Don't you worry. I got you a place all set up in the basement that I think you'll like. A buddy of mine helped. You'll be able to meet him when you get here," he tells me. I wonder if it's someone from the motorcycle club he's in, which I was kind of curious to know more about.
"Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciate you doing this for me." I know he's probably tired me thanking him, but I do appreciate everything he's doing. Other people wouldn't open up their home for someone they have only known for a few weeks.
"You're welcome, baby." I hear talking in the background over the phone, followed by Dad's laughter. "I gotta let you go, sweet girl. You just get here safe. Okay?"
"I will. I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, Aurora." He hangs up and I put my phone back in my purse, ignoring the text messages from Owen and my mother.
* * *
Forty-five Minutes Later...
I pull into the driveway of the address that Dad gave me, suppressing a yawn. After almost nine hours of being on the road, I need a bubble bath and a soft bed. I see a farmhouse with a connected garage ahead of me and park a distance away. A minute later, just as I'm stepping out of my car, I see a man come out of the house, a leather vest clinging to his shirt.
Dominic.
He stops in front of me and I study his features. His eyes are dark green and his black hair matches my own. A thick beard lines his jaw and upper lip that makes him look rugged and more southern than what he is. He has very few wrinkles and in no way looks his age. He's very handsome.
"My sweet girl," he whispers, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. "You're so beautiful."
"Hi, Daddy," I greet. He hugs me to him and I inhale his scent of aftershave and laundry soap. I feel myself relax for the first time in what seems like forever. Tears blur my vision and I sniffle softly. He pulls away when he hears the disturbance and frowns.
"I hope those are tears of joy, darlin'."
I choke out a laugh and wipe at my cheeks. "Of course. I just...never thought I would meet you."
"Well, now you have, sweet girl." He wraps an arm around my shoulders and steers us toward the house. "Let's get you settled in, baby. You must be exhausted."
He has no idea.
- Writer
