Chapter 2 Elyse
ELYSE
They say if you really want to test your compatibility, take a trip together.
Neither of us have a whole lot of disposable income right now, so we decide to rent a car and turn this little adventure into a road trip.
Sounds like fun, right? Worst-case scenario is we break down on some remote country road and have a story to tell everyone when we get home.
The plan is simple (in concept). While Drew is at work, I'm going to rent the car, pick up his dog at his house, drop him off at the kennel, then meet Drew back at my house to pack the trunk and leave.
Well, what they say about the best laid plans is absolutely true, because these plans turned into a cautionary tale about how if something can possibly go wrong, it will.
When I arrive at the rental facility, I'm already running thirty minutes behind schedule.
No surprise there, but as a lifelong, card-carrying member of the procrastinators society, I have no doubt I can make up the time somewhere.
After all, I work best under pressure. I stroll into Enterprise with all the confidence of a varsity quarterback on Friday night.
When the line in front of me clears, I plunk down my ID and credit card.
"Last name is Hall. I reserved a car for today. "
The rental associate looks harried. It's three-thirty on a Thursday and from the look on his face, he's ready to throw the towel in for the day. "This should be an easy one for you," I quip, reassuring myself just as much as him if I'm being honest.
"Welcome to Enterprise! Let's get you going here. We've got you down for a mid-size sedan for five days. Does that sound correct?"
"Yep!" We're off to a good start.
"Okay, I need your license and a major credit card." He looks down at the counter and relief transforms his face. "Oh, look at you! You're ready for me! I love when people are this prepared. It makes my job so much easier."
As I stand there beaming with pride, I have no idea that this is the very moment when everything is about to go sideways. One day when I look back, it's going to be so embarrassing how confident I'm feeling right now.
"Ms. Hall, do you happen to have a more recent drivers license? This one is expired."
Remember my passing mention of how I love to procrastinate?
I don't just put off big icky things like mammograms and filing my taxes.
It's every-damned-thing from buying a new tube of toothpaste to.
.. renewing my drivers license. In fact, I've put this particular task off for so long that I didn't even remember that it was out of date. Yeah... it's a gift.
I take the ID back from him and stare at the date as if by some miracle the date will change to one more in the range he's looking for (as in, sometime this calendar year), sigh, and gather my wits a bit while silently cursing myself for this ridiculous flaw I can't seem to overcome.
"I'll be back. How long can you hold this car?" I ask him, silently praying for some sort of miracle at this point.
He looks down and my eyes follow his gaze to the counter where his hands are clenched tightly in front of him. It's at this point where I realize that I'm NOT going to be the customer that makes his day better. Quite the opposite, actually.
"Unfortunately, vehicles are assigned on a first come, first served basis. How soon do you think you can get your ID updated?"
Has this guy ever been to the DMV? "Let me see what I can do. I'll be right back!"
I gather up my useless identification and payment detritus and with as much pride as I can muster, turn and beat feet out of there.
From the parking lot, I call Drew to update him on my lack of progress.
My heart beating wildly in my chest, I try to think of a nonchalant way to convey the news without letting on what a royal screw up I am, especially this early in our new (again) relationship.
Unfortunately, he answered on the first ring and I'm forced to stumble through my explanation without having much time to prepare a logical excuse.
"Hello, this is Drew." (As if I didn't know whose number I dialed. Oh, it's so much easier to criticize others when my glaring faults are so apparent at this exact moment. But I digress...)
"Hey. It's Elyse. I'm at the car rental place and there's a slight issue with my ID. I was hoping you could help me troubleshoot this one."
"Ok... what's the issue?"
"It's expired."
I could hear him breathing on the other end of the line, but the magic answer to our (my) issue was not instantly forthcoming as I'd hoped. "Ooookaaay... What do you need me to do?"
"Well, I don't think I can make it to the DMV and back in time for us to leave anywhere close to on time. We still need to get the dog to the kennel and he's an hour away right now."
"Text me the address of the rental car place and I'll be right there."
God, I love this man.
Forty minutes later, Drew pulled up. He unfolded himself from his car and strode over to where I was frantically pacing the sidewalk.
He greeted me with a swift kiss, his smooth face momentarily soothing my frazzled nerves.
"Let's get this show on the road!" he exclaims, leading me by the hand to the front door and holding it open for me.
Not a word of judgment about my ID. No complaints about having to drop everything and run to my rescue (again).
No eye roll, sigh, or any sign of disappointment.
Have I mentioned how much I love this man?
Within twenty minutes, the vehicle is rented and we are rolling out of the parking lot, headed in opposite directions. Me, to pick up his slobbering mutt, and him to finish his workday so we can leave on time.
I would love to tell you that this little hiccup in our carefully laid plans was an anomaly, but that would be a bold-faced lie. At this point, the shit show was just beginning.
Stage two of our plan: Deliver slobbery mutt to the kennel was going great up until the point where I actually picked him up.
I pulled into Drew's driveway exactly sixty minutes after I left the rental car facility.
Stretching out my legs for a moment, I could hear Webster barking like an absolute lunatic (as per usual) and running back and forth across the wood floors.
As soon as I had the front door open, he flew through it, barking and snorting.
Apparently he was just as excited about the trip as we were.
I'm pretty sure Drew was equally excited for Webster's stay at the kennel. .. if I'm being honest.
While he rolled around in his own urine in the backyard, I gathered his leash and food and before long, we headed back to the highway. The kennel was forty minutes away and closing at five p.m. Totally manageable as long as everything from that point forward went exactly to plan.
Spoiler alert: It didn't. Not even close.
Once on the highway, I was making pretty good time.
I turned up the radio to cover the racket Webster was making in the back seat.
Between the stress panting, barking at nothing, and excessive drooling, I couldn't get to the kennel fast enough, but I turned up the radio and floated into the fast lane on a cloud of daydreams about the trip ahead.
I hadn't been to New Orleans in almost two decades.
From what I could remember of it, we were in for a pretty fun time — lots of food, lots of alcohol, lots of people watching, and most importantly, lots of time together, which these days was at a premium.
I mentally counted the beads around the neck of future me.
I could taste the beignets. I could feel the pulse of music coming from the nightclubs lining Bourbon Street.
I could see Drew there next to me, taking it all in for the first time. I was ready.
"Recalculating route."
I'd missed my exit.
At this point, I didn't panic. I quickly checked the nav on my phone and started making my way over to the far right lane so I could take the next exit. That was a tricky interchange, I reminded myself. It could have happened to anyone.
Just in case, I dialed the number of the kennel to let them know I was running a teensy bit behind schedule. They did not pick up, so I left a voicemail explaining my delay.
"Hi! My name is Elyse Hall and I'm on my way with Webster.
I know you guys close at five, but I am coming from Tampa and just missed my exit.
I was hoping I could reach you to see if you could stay open for a few extra minutes just in case I don't make it there on time.
Could you please call me back so I know you got this message? "
I hung up and returned my full attention to the road ahead, and following the prompts from the nav on my phone, took the next exit that would allow me to turn around and course correct.
Headed now in the opposite direction with no time to spare, I paid closer attention to the signs above me and unfortunately not enough attention to the lane I was currently in and sailed right by the exit for the second time.
Now in a full-fledged panic, I was forced to call Drew to yet again put my ineptitude on full display.
"Good afternoon, this is Drew."
"I missed the exit AGAIN!"
"What do you mean AGAIN?"
How is this mysterious?
"Well, I missed the sign the first time, turned around, and missed it again."
I was practically hyperventilating at this point, and somehow Drew was thankfully able to understand, at the very least, that I was going to be late dropping off Webster.
True to form, he began laughing at the situation we now found ourselves in.
We were due to meet at the kennel and hit the road for New Orleans in 15 minutes, but we were inevitably going to be severely delayed with nowhere to board the drooling panting mess that was currently taking up space in my back seat, and the kennel had still not returned my phone call.