Merciless Ride Read Free

exhaustion is written on her face, but more than that there is loneliness in her eyes. I don’t know why, yet I feel the need to apologize that it’s me that came to get her.  
    “I’m sorry Rex couldn’t make it.”  
    “I’m not,” she says, gazing out the window into the dark night.  
    How do I respond to that? Rather than involve myself in another man’s business, I stay quiet. Her phone rings from her purse saving me from continuing our conversation.  
    “What, Rex?” she answers with a dull tone. There is a pause for him to speak. “Yes, Shooter came. I’m on my way home.” Her brows draw together in frustration, but her voice remains impassive. “No, you can’t come over tonight.” She sighs deeply. “Rex, I told you, no more.” Another pause. “You couldn’t come get me because you were doing who knows what to some barfly. I’m not stupid. Rex, I told you, I’m done. The fact that you want to come over tonight shows the complete lack of respect you have for me. We’re over and have been for years. Hell, we weren’t actually ever officially together, so there is nothing to be over.”  
    Her voice never raises, never sharpens. She is calm, cool, and detached as she continues after allowing Rex to reply. “We’re nothing more than friends. Move on, Rex. I’m going to. Goodnight.” And with that, she swipes her thumb across the screen to end the call.  
    She lightly bangs her head against the window as we pull up to her house where she starts to unbuckle. Quickly, I reach in my back pocket and get my business card out of my wallet.  
    “Look, Tessie, if you need anything, I don’t care the time, call.”  
    When she looks at the card then up to me, a slight smile crosses her face. “Andy ‘Shooter’ Jenkins. You look like an Andy.”  
    “What?”  
    “In all the years you’ve been coming to the bar, I’ve only know you as ‘Shooter’ and ‘Jenkins,’ never Andy. You look like an Andy.”  
     
     

 
     
     
    No Friend of Mine  
     
     
     
    One day I will catch a break. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Mercy has never been a friend to me. Life just keeps on kicking me while I am down. This is merely another bump in the road, one I will work my way through, somehow, someway.  
    Looking around my tiny, two bedroom, one bath, single wide trailer that was built back in the sixties, I take in my momentary solitude. To most people, my tiny home would be considered pitiful or pathetic. For me, it’s freedom. It’s independence. More than that, it is my success. It is mine. This is the place I have worked so hard and saved so much to have for myself and my son, Axel. After giving up everything and starting over, this was supposed to be my reward for all my hard work.  
    I laugh out loud. Much like my fantasies of Rex one day committing to me, having a place of my own is a mere pipe dream, as well. My mom’s health is rapidly declining. At some point in the very near future, I am going to have to face the fact that I should move home.  
    My mom has Multiple Sclerosis. After battling it for years now, the flares are coming more often and her recovery is becoming longer. My aunt lived with her until recently when she had to move in with my aging grandparents. My mom, seeking to feel strong and independent, asked me to stay at my own place for now. The more time passes, the more I watch the fatigue and muscle deterioration after each flare up.  
    After my dad bailed, when I was a toddler, my mom put all her energy into raising and supporting me; therefore, she never took the time for herself to find someone else. Then, when she ended up sick, she gave up hope that anyone would want to deal with all her new ailments. That’s when my aunt moved in with her after her husband passed away from a heart attack to make sure someone was around for Mom during the flares. This was also their way of making sure I went off to college.  
    I chose Appalachian State