He got to Missoula just before ten and booked into a hotel next to the river. His room was riverside, and he opened the window to let the sound of running water, and cool air, permeate the room.
When he took his phone out to put on charge he noticed there was a text waiting. He didn’t remember hearing a ping. It was from Gina.
‘Sorry if I upset you. Thanks for telling me about her. Drive safe, and let me know when you get there. xxx G.’
He looked at the words, at the three little kisses, and smiled. In a long drive on strange roads it had been a welcome distraction, and remembering Barbara was never something he re-gretted, even when all he had was mourning.
‘Made it safe. Thanks for the call. xxx D.’
When he’d showered and come back through to the bed there was a reply.
‘:D sweet dreams. Drive safe tomorrow.’
Would she call tomorrow evening? As he slipped into bed he hoped so.
She called. They talked for two hundred miles and Duncan missed the turning to Wounded Knee.
‘It’s a monument, and oil pipelines that’ll spring a leak anytime,’ Gina said.
‘What about the burnt out camps? I should see them,’ Duncan said.
‘The army bulldozed them.’
‘How’d you know this stuff?’ Duncan asked. ‘Shouldn’t you be worrying about SingJudgeCreep or whatever the show is?’
‘Are you really as old as the asshole who runs it?’
‘Well, we share a demographic. But no, he’s older than me. And he’s got more money, fewer scruples, and a lower E.Q. than I do.’
There was background sound and Gina said, ‘Hold on, some-one’s at the door.’
Duncan concentrated on the road. It was a dichotomous land-scape. To the left cultivated fields stretched away. Some were already harvested, some yet to be. Distant buttes rose like pimples on the horizon. To the left was grassy plains, and the Badlands National Park. The I-90 was the dividing line: On one side was humans and their strivings, on the other you could write ‘Here be Dragons’ and no-one would bat an eyelid.
Earlier in the day he’d detoured off the road at Rapid City and gone down to Mt. Rushmore. Though now he called it Six Grandfathers, like the Lakota Sioux had for countless years. It was an impressive feat of engineering, but he wondered how much more wondrous it must have been to come across the original peak, after days of hiking.
He yawned. A seven am start, after a late night yesterday, was taking it out of him. But to be in Chicago in two days time meant getting the miles driven, and he didn’t want to arrive at dinner after another hard day on the road, so today and tomor-row were getting most of the driving done.
‘You get bored waiting for me?’ Gina asked.
Duncan cut the yawn off. ‘Just tired. Lot of driving. Who came to visit?’
‘One of Jake’s friends. Thought he’d be with Liam, and Liam would be with me.’
‘Ah.’
'You don’t like Liam do you?'
'I’ve only met the guy once. But it was your birthday party, and he acted like a jerk. Sorry.'
'I know he did. But he’s really not like that.'
'I’m sure he isn’t.'
'Subject change. You looking forward to Friday night?'
'Yeh. Mary seems nice, and even if the restaurant is a bomb, it’ll be better than eating at the wheel like I’ve been doing. Car floor looks like a school canteen after lunch.'
'Should I warn her to bring you a bib, if you’re such a messy eater?'
'Cheeky besom.'
'What the hell’s that?'
'What?'
'A besom.'
'It’s a word we use back home. Means woman. It’s a bit de-rogatory, but nicer than calling you a bitch.'
'Hey!'
Duncan chuckled at the outrage in her voice. Then she laughed, and his heart quickened a little.
'Well,' Gina said, 'I’d better go eat, and then it’s time for Hermione, she’ll be wondering where I am. Drive safely.'
'You go safe too. Thanks for calling.'
'No problems. Mwah.'
The line cut out, and Duncan was left with that final kiss-ing noise as the interstate narrowed to a single lane because of roadworks.
When Gina called the next day he was already at the hotel, showered, fed, and lying on the bed flicking through channels. The phone chirped and he held it to his ear. 'Hey.'
'Hey,' Gina said. 'Sounds like you're not driving.'
'No. Got an early start. May have driven a bit quick.'
'So, you don't need me to talk to tonight.'
'What if I want to talk anyway.'
'Do you?'
The television flickered between dark and light as a detective and murderer played cat and mouse round an abandoned warehouse. Duncan's ears hissed. His mouth dried. The last time he felt like this was a Christmas party seven years ago - a coworker cornered him in an empty office, waved a piece of mistletoe, and slid a dress strap from her shoulder. He'd sprinted from the room, found Barbara, and left.
Why did tonight give him the same feeling? Why did it feel like he wasn’t just tempted, but anticipating. 'Yes,' he said. 'It's been nice talking with you the last couple of days.'
'I like talking with you too.'
'What’s tonight’s subject?'
A little after midnight Gina yawned, and they said goodnights.
'Have fun tomorrow night,' Gina said.
'I’m sure I will. Night.'
'Night, Duncan. Mwah.'
On the TV a chat show with a man behind a desk glad-handing various guests, in between copious adverts. Duncan turned it off and lay listening to traffic in the street.
Barbara wasn’t anywhere in his thoughts, and he didn’t even pretend to think of Mary.
Avec was a wood lined restaurant which felt like an decommissioned sauna. Mary wore a pale cream pant suit, red cami-sole vest, and chain of pearls. The shoes had tall heels, red soles and, to Duncan’s eye, looked expensive. This was a different woman to the one he’d met a few days before. Now she was in her environment, fully in control.
'How was the drive?' Mary asked, as they were shown to a table. She had her phone in hand and stared at the screen as if con-fused by what she saw.
'Long. But at least I got to enjoy it, instead of getting yanked away early.'
'What do you mean?' Mary looked up.
'Didn’t you get called back a day early?'
'Yes. How did you know— Gina. She keeping tabs on you?'
'Yes, yes she is. I expect to be debriefed on tonight’s dinner by eleven. About an hour after you’ve had your interrogation.'
Mary laughed. 'What do you expect to report?'
'That we had a perfect lovely meal. That we had a laugh. That it won’t happen again.' Duncan drank some wine. 'What I won’t say is her sister’s in a relationship already. Whoever it is can’t commit, but makes you happy.' He drank again, then asked, ‘Are they already married?'
Mary stared at her plate, and a flush of red tinged her cheeks. 'What do you mean.'
‘I’ve seen enough people in enough relationships to make a de-cent guess. My guess is you already have someone in your life, but there’s a reason it isn’t known.’ Duncan put a forkful of food into his mouth and chewed. He watched Mary. She kept her head down and pretended to eat. 'What are you worried about, Mary?'
She looked up. Her eyes were soft, moist with proto-tears. 'You don’t know my family.'
'I know…' Duncan cut short. 'No I don’t. Though would Gina care?'
'Gina? Probably not. Jake? Maybe not. My parents definitely would. They’d be shocked if they knew anything about their off-spring. Jake’s drugs, Gina & Liam, Me. Especially me.'
There it was. Duncan was old enough to see the cracks in the presentation of a lovely family. He’d lived long enough to know no family was perfect.
'Tell me about them.'
text and image by stuartcturnbull. image formed in openart.ai