Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Charlie
Leaving Connie’s house was bittersweet to say the least. I was beyond sad to leave Connie, but still a little excited to have a plan and get away from South Carolina.
We celebrated my next chapter with a bottle of wine and a movie night.
Nothing too crazy, considering I planned on leaving first thing this morning.
The motorhome was ready, Connie had gone over everything twice, and I had a cheat sheet written down with instructions.
I tried to assure her that I could Google whatever I needed to, but Connie insisted that I have it on paper.
I saw the worry on her face only growing stronger the closer it got to me leaving, but she never tried to convince me to stay.
I pulled out of the driveway right at dawn, with a passenger seat full of snacks that Connie had packed next to my purse that now holds Hayes’ mint tin.
My neighbor must have found it while we were packing up my apartment and placed it in there without me knowing.
I tried to convince Connie to keep it or send it to Hayes but she refused.
She said I needed the “good-luck” on my new adventure and she wouldn’t be able to get his address anyway.
The second I hit the interstate, time started to blend together. I thought that I would take my time sight-seeing, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. My excitement quickly dwindled as the fear of being alone overtook me.
The only time I felt safe was when I was driving.
I made sure to find the nicest RV parks and then time it so that I would pull in an hour before sunset.
I’d eat, try to sleep, and wake up before the sun even began to rise again.
Once those first rays began lighting up the sky, I was on the road.
Stopping only for gas and food, I set my eyes on the Pacific.
Needing to get as far away as possible, as quickly as possible. After that, I’ll reassess.
I just drove and drove.
Drove until I was across the country.
It wasn't until I hit the Idaho/Oregon border that it felt like I could breathe again.
The landscape quickly became some of the most beautiful I'd seen on the entire trip.
Or maybe I was just slowing down enough to pay attention.
Tall cliffs and a lush green landscape surrounded the winding river as I drove alongside it.
Wildflowers were just starting to bloom, adding bursts of color in every direction.
Then I drove through wide, open hay fields where it felt like you could see for miles.
It was as if I were driving through an old western film.
My dad would have loved it. Drew and I watched more John Wayne movies than anything else with him.
I could feel the nostalgia starting to unravel the knot of anxiety I had developed.
I didn’t stop to admire the large town I saw next; didn’t even look at the name.
My eyes were only set on the mountains I saw in the distance.
It felt like they were calling to me. Every mile that I got closer to them, my body relaxed.
When I hit the edge of a small town, Three Sisters, OR, every part of me begged to get out and walk down the bustling of Main Street.
To explore as if I was one of the other carefree tourists.
A quick Google search sent me in the direction of a quaint RV park.
The reviews looked phenomenal, but the pictures hadn’t done its justice.
Nestled between the pine trees and Cascade mountains, sat my own little hideout.
The check-in area of the RV park is a cabin that has a front desk, a sitting area, and a small coffee station. It’s nothing fancy, but the cowboy chic decor is fitting and welcoming. The woman behind the counter has big, teased blonde ’80’s hair and a huge grin.
“Hello! Welcome to the Cascadia RV Park and lodging. You checkin’ in?” Her accent doesn’t sound Southern, but there is a distinct twang to it.
“I am, but I don’t have a reservation.” I try to smile, but my face feels stiff from the last few days of clenching my teeth.
She grins back, like she’s unfazed by my lack of expression. “No worries, doll face. How many nights are you staying?”
“Just one for now.” I’m not sure how long I’ll feel comfortable here. For all I know, this could be a fluke and I’ll be having a panic attack in the next ten minutes.
“Okay, if you want to add more, just let me or Roger know.”
My head snaps up. “Roger?”
“My husband. He's always around here somewhere.”
I nod and a small smile forms at the corner of my lips. I love that there’s another Roger around here somewhere.
I glance at her name tag to thank her and my breath feels like it was stolen right from my chest. Her name is Jessie, the same as my dad’s, only spelled slightly differently.
I don’t normally believe in signs but I can’t deny there’s something in the universe telling me this is the place to be.
I swallow down the emotions but my eyes definitely feel a little misty. “Perfect. Thank you so much. Is there anywhere you recommend for dinner?”
“Definitely the SnowPeak diner; it’s on Main Street, right in the middle of town. Best milkshakes you’ve ever had and the burgers aren’t bad either. There’s a path that you can use to walk there if you feel like stretching your legs.”
I nod and smile, not able to say anything else.
Without realizing it, she just handed me the third sign that I belong here.
Anytime we would have a bad day, my dad would say, “There’s no problem a burger and a shake can’t fix, and if it can’t fix it, at least you had a burger and a shake.
” Sage words of wisdom to any small child, but it was always our thing.
Lost a game? Burger and a milkshake. Bad grade?
Burger and a milkshake. Mom’s pissed because we forgot to thaw the frozen chicken, like she asked? Burger and a milkshake.
After I parked the motor home, I took a little extra time getting everything set up.
It’s hot outside, but the dry heat feels good on my skin after three days of sitting in air conditioning.
Taking Jessie’s advice, I decided to walk the trail.
I took my time, enjoying the much needed serenity that Central Oregon was bringing me.
I expected to feel the same unsafe feeling I’ve been having once I got into town but it never came.
The town itself oozes charm; the buildings look like they were built a hundred years ago but are well taken care of.
People continued to stroll down the sidewalks, smiling and having a good time.
It wasn’t that I was ignored, but no one seemed to look at me longer than to offer a friendly smile.
The small diner was busy but I was lucky enough to get a table off to the side.
The waitress took my order in a rush, smiling and assuring me it’d be right out.
I got a little lost watching her work. The system she had to manage the rush was memorizing.
Every customer looked happy as she glided from table to table, delivering food.
All of the locals greeted each other and all of the tourists settled in as if they were home.
For the first time since the Carter incident, I looked around a crowded room and felt safe.
I may actually stick around.