The Perfect Weekend
*
A break from reality
I spent an hour being shown off.
First, I met Amy, his unit buddy. The short woman with a frizzled brunette bun was grinning from ear to ear.
“Robert said you would tell me about the mugging.”
I raised a brow, and then Robert walked with his fingers. I snorted. “Wait, the time someone attempted to mug me while I was jogging?”
Amy playfully yelled, “Why are you so casual about this?”
I shrugged. “It was nearly six years ago. I had headphones in, and the mugger attempted to get my attention. I took out an earbud, and he demanded my phone.”
Robert mimicked my voice: “What? Can’t you see I’m running?”
Amy and I laughed as I replied, “I was so confused. He seemed confused by my not paying attention. I took a few steps back, slammed my hand into the campus security box, and he ran.”
As we went to talk to others, I could hear echoes of “ epic ” from everyone. Typically, I would have been embarrassed by my obliviousness and almost death, but instead, I enjoyed the compliments.
Robert made me out to be better than I was.
For years, I saw myself as a fool. I was pretty, but I made bad decisions. I drank too much, spoke too much, lied, and manipulated.
Yet Robert was here, praising my mistakes as if they were quirky. He allowed me to redeem myself.
I looked at his sweaty face and never thought I could love him more.
We hit the road after finally dismantling his tent and packing everything up. We drove like a caravan from Wyoming to Denver, expecting a weekend of love and excitement.
Instead, we arrived at the “Boutique Hotel” in the arts district, where the door wouldn’t lock and blood stains were present on the carpet in the hallway.
We decided to forfeit our $75-a-night prepayment and rushed to the nearest budget motel.
The place had a lumpy bed, musky carpets, and the lingering smell of the rare “smoking” rooms. Not to mention hard water, rough sheets, and a booklet of faded local takeout menus. Yet, it felt like we were in a five-star hotel.
We stayed in that room for a day. Ordered the worst Thai food in existence. Drank cheap beers from the nearby gas station. Made love while crappy mid-day television played in the background.
When we finally decided to venture out of our cave, we wandered into the city. We ate ice cream, people-watched, and visited museums.
My heart could’ve burst from all of his love—
“You are burning.”
My focus jolted back. “What?”
Robert’s finger touched my shoulder, and when he released it, it was bright white, then surrounded by red.
“Oh, ow, ow.”
He guided me toward a nearby restaurant. The air conditioner inside cooled my boiling skin.
When we finally turned in our keys to the ragged room and got into our cars, I decided that rather than driving home, I’d go with him back to Wyoming and stay the night.
We were on the phone the entire time.
“Stop speeding.”
I scoffed. “I’m not speeding. Stop riding my ass.”
Robert chuckled, and I could see his smile crack in my rearview mirror. I loved this. It was like we were teenagers again.
I could forget about everything.
For one weekend, I was just Bree. No deadlines, no dying parents, no failures. Just a girl in a sundress, driving the man she loved back to the middle of nowhere…before driving fourteen hours away from him again.
We started to put together the tent as the rain came in. Robert pushed me inside it and then quickly finished putting on the covers so I could stay dry. We sat in the tent as the wind battered it, cuddling for hours until it let up.
I kissed him a thousand times goodbye, wanting him to come home. I watched him lace up his boots, tuck the trowel into his pocket, and disappear back into the field, all the while thinking, I love him so much .
Ten hours down the road, my phone started to buzz. I kept my eyes on the road, a massive grin forming as I pulled over. I didn’t even bother to see who was calling.
“I thought you’d still be working!”
“Bree? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
I frowned as my stomach clenched. It was Louisa.
“I was driving back through the boonies and didn’t have service.”
She sighed. “Well, when you return, come straight to me.”
I felt nauseous. “Why?”
“Mom has been admitted to the hospital. They won’t be sending her home.”
The world spun. I wasn’t Bree the girl anymore.
I was the daughter again.