Chapter 18 - Rust
RUST
Tally brushes over the dashboard, her hand moving to the glove box.
Fuck. For a woman who claims to want to leave the past buried, she sure sniffs out every shred of it like a goddamn bloodhound.
She opens it and reaches inside, pulling out a tattered notebook with a holographic cover. A breath escapes her. “Our songbook? I thought I lost it in Vegas!”
“You actually left it in the glove box yourself. I just kept it that way,” I explain.
She moves the cover back and forth, making it look like the wild horses on it are running. “Every piece of music we wrote together is still in here?”
“Every. Single. One.”
She opens the notebook to the first page. ‘Love’s an Outlaw’ is written in pink glitter gel pen at the top with a few lines of lyrics and notes below. The rest of the page is achingly blank.
Tally runs a finger over the ink. “We never finished it.”
A wave of bittersweet nostalgia washes over me. We wrote this snippet of a song—our first song—moments after our first kiss. When we met at school the next day, Tally showed me this notebook and announced it was to be our songbook.
We were in over our heads with such a complicated composition and vocal execution. Whenever we talked about ‘Love’s an Outlaw’ we put off finishing it. We thought we had all the time in the world.
Now I realize it might’ve been an excuse to convince ourselves we had forever.
My eyes snag on the lyrics, my foot tapping the beat. “I thought you might’ve completed it on your own.”
Tally laughs weakly. “I tried—not to release it, just for myself—but I couldn’t do it. Somethin’ always felt mismatched. Out of tune.”
I purse my lips. Out of tune is exactly how my life felt without her.
“But on the upside, this is our second chance to finish ‘Love’s an Outlaw!’ This is a goldmine…” She flips through the pages. “What if we reworked all these songs together?”
Before I can remind her that I don’t write music anymore, a piece of red foil falls out of the notebook, stopping my train of thought.
Cause it ain’t any random piece of foil.
It’s the condom wrapper from our first time in this truck.
How could I forget it was in there?
I smack my forehead. “So how many creep points does that get me?”
A laugh gusts from her lungs. “None. It’s sorta sweet… in a pervy way.”
Her pupils are blown. Is she thinking about that night, too? Does she recall the beautiful, sexy sounds she made for me when I was the first man inside her? Does she remember how our bodies fit perfectly?
Tally reaches the last page and taps her practice autographs scrawled across the paper. “This is where you got the blueprint for your tattoo!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She giggles. “Oh, you were obsessed with me back then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And I still am, I bite back.
She puts the condom wrapper into the back of the notebook and tucks it into the glove box.
“This truck is like a time bubble, Rust. I feel like I’m a teenager again.” She shuffles over to grab the steering wheel. “Remember when you taught me to drive?”
I cross my arms, smirking. “How could I forget? My blood pressure was through the roof. You pert near crashed us into a ditch cause you were checking your lip gloss.”
She pouts. “I wanted to look nice for you. And in my defense, that ditch came outta nowhere!”
“It’s been there since the good Lord shaped these lands.”
“Well, the keyword is pert near.” She holds up both hands. “I pert near drove us into a ditch.”
“Yeah, cause I grabbed the wheel and got us back on the road. Guess if ‘Uncle Barry’ wasn’t dead as a doornail, he’d agree that your driving hasn’t improved much.”
“Too soon!” Tally sticks out her tongue. “I’ll have you know I’ve perfected the art of lip gloss application while drivin’.”
Laughing, she reaches for the sun visor. Oh shit, here we go. Like in slow motion, I watch her flip it down.
Her jaw drops. “You kept the photo...” she whispers, staring at the faded image of herself.
I make a nervous grunting noise.
She gets her wallet from her purse, pulling out something that looks suspiciously like the other half of the polaroid.
She still has her piece and she carries it with her?
Carefully, Tally puts the halves together.
My pulse skips as I look at us standing in that tacky chapel in Vegas. The colors have paled, but it seems like our smiles are brighter than ever. I like to think it’s because the picture is finally complete again.
Because our past and present selves are finally reunited.
“I felt like I was marrying an angel,” I say softly.
She huffs, blushing. “An angel in a thrifted dress and scuffed boots?”
“You were the most beautiful woman in the world, Trouble. You still are,” I confess.
Our gazes lock and I wanna kiss her. Not to take it further, just to feel her lips against mine and make her understand I never stopped loving her.
But I know that ain’t what she wants. My feelings are a complication she doesn’t need in her life.
Tally tucks both pieces of the polaroid under the strap on the sun visor. “I can’t bear tearing us apart again.” She flinches. “I-I mean the picture.”
I put on a smile before I say something stupid like ‘Please don’t leave me! I’ll die without you!’ Instead, I opt for a casual vibe.
“I think we’ve gone done memory lane long enough for one day.”
Tally slumps in the seat. “Agreed.”
“But I like your idea to take Yolanda on the road trip.”
She whips her curls over her shoulder, smirking. “Of course. I’m full of brilliant ideas. The old girl deserves one more run before retirement.”
I rub my hands together. “Alright. Soon as I’ve put the luggage in the back and covered it with tarp we’re ready to go.”
“Let’s make some new memories, Big Guy.”