Chapter 5
Kathryn—The Sisterhood
Cross Country
T he holidays were a few short weeks away.
Kathryn had to finish this run, and then one more for Annie.
She passed several trucks carrying hundreds upon hundreds of Christmas trees to their final destinations.
She glanced over at her big German shepherd sitting in the passenger seat, strapped in with his special seat belt.
She asked, “Did you know there are somewhere between twenty-five and thirty million trees sold every year?” The dog yawned.
“But did you also know it takes almost seven years for a tree to grow between six and seven feet?” Murphy sputtered.
“One more factoid, and I’ll change the subject,” Kathryn said and continued, “There are sixteen types of Christmas trees, but the balsam fir is the most popular and smells the best.” Murphy expressed his boredom with another yawn.
“Well, you never know when you’ll be in a trivia game.” Kathryn tried to remember the last time she played a trivia game. It had been years. Many, many years.
Kathryn considered how quickly time had blown past her, and she began to ruminate about her life.
It had been several years since Kathryn’s husband passed away from MS. Most patients can survive for many years with proper treatment, but she honestly believed that being forced to watch her get raped is what really killed him.
It was devastating. All of it. The joy of Christmas had been lost. Year after year, she would climb deeper into her fortress of solitude, pushing any semblance of holiday spirit as far back as possible, until it was over and a new year was upon her.
But what did that mean, exactly? A new year?
Had it become the same old year, year after year, as the calendar ticked by?
“I think I might have to make a few adjustments,” she said to Murphy. Then, “I might be getting road weary.”
Murphy let out a big dog yawn.
“Yeah, me too,” Kathryn said with a sigh.
She continued her somewhat one-way conversation with her travel companion. “Ya know, it’s not like I want another person in my life. I tried with Bert, but he wanted to get married, and I did not. Then there was Jack Sparrow. Nice guy, but I wasn’t ready.”
She tooted her horn at one of her fellow road warriors as he passed her in the left lane.
“I don’t know if I can ever be in love again, but I am beginning to feel as if something is missing.”
Her pooch let out another yawn. This time it had a little woof to it.
“Ah, so you agree?”
He let out another woof .
“I thought so,” she continued to think out loud. “Maybe I’ve been so absorbed separating myself from most things that I haven’t taken a better look at what I do have. Friendship, for one. And of course, you for another.” She pursed her lips. “Maybe it’s time to focus on the blessings I have.”
Another woof of approval from her canine buddy, Murphy.
“I suspect I’ve been clinging to the bitterness.
I got my revenge, for sure, but I suppose it didn’t fill the black hole in my heart.
I really hate the expression ‘move on.’ I’ll never move on from how much I loved that man, but maybe I can open myself up and embrace the wonderful things that I’ve gained as a result of that horrible experience. ”
Murphy let out a soft groan.
“Exactly,” Kathryn said, agreeing with her dog. “Well, I’m glad Annie and Myra are doing something for kids this year, and I am happy to help.”
Murphy bobbed his head in approval.
“You really are beginning to understand me.” Kathryn laughed.
The dog looked at her straight in the eye and woof ed again.
Kathryn laughed again. “Maybe I should spend more time with humans. No offense, but if I told people my dog and I have conversations, they’d lock me up in a loony bin.”
Murphy bobbed his head again.
Kathryn was heading west, and then south to New Mexico.
Once she delivered her load she planned to dead-head it back to Virginia.
Kathryn was proud of the way she handled an eighteen-wheeler.
She was also proud of the fact that she was part of an elite group of road warriors.
Less than six percent of them were women, and all of them were highly respected.
Kathryn had mastered her daily driving routine: Up at six in the morning.
Shower at the truck stop. Eat breakfast. Do a pre-trip safety check, then cover close to 500 miles of road in a day.
At the end of the day, she’d find a spot at a stop and pull in for the night.
After sitting for hours upon hours behind the wheel, she’d take Murphy for a walk and stretch her legs.
If the diner was empty, they would occasionally allow Murphy to join her for dinner.
Otherwise, she’d tie him to the post just outside the front door, where they could keep an eye on each other.
Once that ritual was complete, Kathryn and Murphy returned to the cab and got the bunk ready for the rest of the evening.
The next step was to open her laptop and notify the dispatcher she was in “sleeper mode.” After she got the confirmation that her message had been received, she’d find a movie before Murphy had a chance to horn in on her small space.
It never failed; by the next morning, the big hairy dog would be right up against her back.
Kathryn still had many more miles to cover before she could head in for the night.
And with so many hours on the road, she had ample time to think about how she could start opening herself up to life.
Normally she spent Thanksgiving alone, but this year, she decided to accept Myra and Annie’s invitation to spend it with them.
One thing she could not resist was one of Charles’s fabulous meals.
She pressed the Bluetooth button on her steering wheel and spoke into the voice control, “Call Myra.” A disembodied voice replied, “Calling Myra on kitchen phone.”
Two rings later, Myra answered. She noticed Kathryn’s name on the caller ID. “Everything alright, dear?”
“Yep,” Kathryn replied. “If it’s not too late, I would like to take you up on your offer for Thanksgiving.”
“That’s wonderful, Kathryn. I am so happy you changed your mind.”
“Truth be told, it was Murphy.”
“Oh?” Myra was a bit taken aback. It was true Myra spoke to her dogs as if they were human, as did most of the Sisters with their pets, but this was the first time she’d heard Kathryn speak about it.
“I know. I must sound like a loon.”
“Not at all. I do it all the time. You know that.” Myra’s voice was calm and comforting.
“Yeah, well, I supposed this is the first time I’ve admitted my conversations with my German shepherd to anyone.”
“You’re talking to the right gal,” Myra said, chuckling.
“I’ve been doing a lot of introspection,” Kathryn said, and sighed. “After losing two friends over the past two years, it made me realize how precious life is. I know I felt that way when Alan died, but having two of my fellow road warriors pass brought things into focus again.”
“Oh, dear. I know how painful it is to lose someone you love.”
“I know you do. And I also know how you picked yourself up and found a purpose. I, for one, was one of them. Anyhoo, I decided it was time for me to climb out of my cocoon. Again.”
Myra listened intently. These are the words she had hoped to hear from Kathryn. It had been a long time coming.
Kathryn continued, “The first two attempts were a bust, but I think that’s because I was still too raw from losing Alan, and I was never really present. I was living in the past. And in my grief.”
“That is perfectly understandable, Kathryn,” Myra said with warmth.
“I knew you would get it.” Kathryn had a smile on her face.
“I do, indeed,” Myra said. She knew Kathryn was on speakerphone and added, “Murphy is also invited to dinner.”
A loud woof echoed through the cab of the truck.
“Hey Murphy!” Myra called to the dog. “You and Lady and her pups will have a grand time.”
The dog responded with a yowl.
“See, I told you he talks to me!” Kathryn said, and chuckled.
“I didn’t doubt you for a minute,” Myra said, and smiled.
Kathryn held out her hand, and Murphy gave it a nudge. “Good boy.”
“This is extremely exciting, Kathryn. I have some additional news, and I hope you will find it appealing.”
“Do tell.” Traffic was light, so Kathryn continued the conversation. She turned off Interstate 80 onto Interstate 25 South.
“Annie wants to have a block party for New Year’s Eve.”
“Block party?” Kathryn asked. Her curiosity was piqued. “Whose block?”
“East Thirty-fifth Street.”
“In the city?”
“Yes. She’s a few doors down from Sniffen Court, where Camille lives.”
“Are you going to spend the entire week there?”
“No. We’ll go up for the event, come home, and spend Christmas here. Then we’ll fly back up on the thirtieth. I hope you’ll join us. And for Christmas,” Myra offered.
“Won’t you be sick of me by then?” Kathryn said, and chuckled.
“Doubtful,” Myra replied. “It will be great fun, especially if Annie is planning the party.”
“That’s for sure. But a block party? How is she going to get the city of New York to shut down her street?” Kathryn said, then paused. “Right. It’s Annie!”
“Exactly!” Myra replied. “Kathryn, you know we love you, and I am very happy to hear a new tone in your voice.”
“A tone? In my voice?” Kathryn asked.
“Yes. I should say I feel the tone,” Myra said reassuringly.
“I’m feeling it, too,” Kathryn responded. “I better jump off the call. Traffic is picking up. I should be back in Virginia in three days. I’ll give you a shout as soon as I get in.”
“Wonderful!” Myra exclaimed. “Be safe. You take good care of your mommy, Murphy.”
Murphy responded with another woof .
Kathryn felt lighter. More relaxed. She knew Alan would want her to enjoy life. She deserved it. Now she finally believed it.
The following morning, her alarm went off at six, and the rest of the day would be an iteration of the day before. It was a sunny day with clear blue skies and a few puffy clouds.
“Beautiful, eh, pal?” she said to her travel companion.
Murphy yelped in agreement. Another truckload of Christmas trees passed in the opposite direction.
“I think I’m going to enjoy the holidays this year,” she said, and then smiled to herself.
Then suddenly a jarring thought occurred to her.
“Oh, geez! I hope I don’t have to wear a dress for New Year’s! ”
Murphy howled in agreement.