Chapter 4
Autumn
I’d be lying if I said this whole thing doesn’t make me so nervous that my stomach hurts.
Hiring movers was obviously my only option in a move like this, but the fact that almost everything I own is now the responsibility of strangers makes me wholly uncomfortable.
But I had no choice. I am not close enough with anyone else here to make this seven-hour drive with me, then go back by themselves.
I also didn’t want to put that on anyone from home.
I need to get my things and my car back to Michigan, so what I would’ve paid to rent someone from home a truck big enough, then the miles here, and the miles back, it would’ve cost more than what I paid these young, barely twenty-somethings to do it.
Plus, that cost includes them doing the labor of it all, so here we are.
I did keep the most important things with me, though, packed tight inside my Ford Taurus: all my important documents, some sentimental items, my scrubs and work necessities, and a few bags of other clothes, just in case.
Actually, I packed as many clothes as I could fit, because the worst thing would be to get there and have no clothes, forcing me to spend what money I’ve saved on a new wardrobe instead of finding my own place as soon as possible.
So, I pray that this trusty car I’ve had forever will get me and my most important things back safe. Just one more long ride is all I need it to give me. Well, actually, I need more than that, because I don’t want to spend the money I’ve saved on a new car either.
But everything else, everything else I own is stuffed inside that giant, rather obnoxious key lime green box truck sitting at the curb.
I also just don’t like being in the car for long periods of time.
Road trips have never excited me. I know a lot of people who love them, but for me, they’re just boring.
The best part is listening to whatever music I want, but I’d really rather just get it over with.
And I’ve always been like this, which made it real easy to avoid driving back home while I was gone.
On that note, it’s time to get this all over with. The movers provide me with the general plan for their route and estimated arrival time. I provide them with every number I can: Kory’s, my mom’s, and my dad’s. Again, just in case. With all the appropriate details shared, they are on the road.
I wipe my sweaty hands on my leggings and slide into my driver’s seat to follow suit, even though I’m sure I’ll beat them. This car is great on gas, and if I’m lucky, I may only need to fill up once. If I do need a second stop, it will be close to home. Home.
I pull out my phone. It’s five in the morning. So far, we’re on schedule at least. If I’m really lucky, I’ll be there by noon-ish, well, one-ish Michigan time.
I type out a text and send it twice, once to my mom and once to Kory.
I'm about to be on my way.
Not surprising, my mom is the one who responds this early in the morning.
Drive safe honey. Can't wait to see you!
I will. Love you.
I exit the message app and open my map to type in 1389 Kip St., Scottville, MI 49454.
I choose the route that avoids tolls because I’ll enjoy more views of the lake this way. Lake Michigan: my favorite place and favorite part of being in Wisconsin. It’s how I held on to the feeling of home while I was here.
The same lake that I loved all my life was here too. Any chance I got over the last ten years, I’d make a trip to visit the beach, even during the winter. There was something so soothing and comforting to know that home was just on the other side of that giant body of water.
But right now, home is seven hours and sixteen minutes away at the end of this route, which seems far, but I know I’ll be there by dinner.
I just hope I make it through rush hour in Chicago without adding two additional hours.