Josephine could hear nothing but the wind rushing past her ears and the steady hum of tires against the road. It had been less than an hour with her hands on the steering wheel of her very own car, but already she could feel the sounds of the road drowning out the noise in her head. Sure, the brand new Chevrolet hadn't come cheap. It had cost damn near nine hundred dollars; but it was worth it. Because it was hers.
She didn’t have to answer to anyone when she returned it, or ask for permission just to take the keys. Besides, what good was driving someone else's car when she could drive her own? Especially when all that one had was some tiny, diminutive red stripe running along the side. Not this one. This one was bedecked with red leather throughout the interior, juxtaposed with an impractical white steel that would no doubt show the dry dirt of the road the moment she drove any more than fifteen miles from home.
But it didn’t even matter. Because this car was hers, and as of now, there was only one place she wanted to drive it to.
She wheeled the car in front of the farmhouse with perhaps more force than she intended, the ensuing dust storm and glare in her glasses only temporarily blinding her to the man standing by his own truck in the distance. He was still in his work clothes, covered in red dirt with a cigarette in hand. A small, nervous half smile flashed on her face as she let the engine roar off the steep cliff faces and took a moment to catch her breath. Then with a sharp exhale and the hope that his questions would be few, she turned the key in the ignition and let the soothing sounds of the engine fade into silence.
The moment she swung the door open she heard steady footfall approach the other side of the car. She shut the door behind her and turned in their direction, only to see that Gio was already standing across from her at the passenger door. His face was quizzical and good natured, even if it was battling something just under the surface. “Quite the ride. Don’t tell me you bought the thing, did you?”
In response she ran her hand along the silver metal coating, reaching inside toward where the soft, still barely used leather was. “I did. Grabbed it from that new dealership just North of town. I’ll take you for her very first ride if you let me.”
“So you did buy it?” The geniality drained from his face as suspicion eclipsed it like dirt in front of a setting sun. “Why?”
Her answer was quick and high-pitched, like she was dancing around a lie already inhabiting the front bench seat between them. “For the tours, silly. And the loan’s not in danger anymore and I just thought it was nice…”
“No, I mean why? What happened to Val’s car?”
Like a blow to her abdomen she tried to deflect the name and refocus on the car in front of her. “I mean it's been years. I just figured it was time to get my own. Make my life easier.” Without intending to, she let out a nervous laugh that revealed just how much she needed him to say yes to her question. “Just jump in, will you? I’ll show you how fast she can go.”
Rather than answer he just stared down at the car, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes hidden. Jo was looking across the span of leather, so intently waiting for his answer that she barely heard the loud bang of the farmhouse door swing shut behind her. A millisecond later an amazed squeal filled the heavy silence hanging between them. “Aunt Jo! I love it! Is it yours? All yours?”
Begrudgingly, Jo turned her eyes away from Gio and toward Violette, who had emerged on the front porch. Even from afar, she was practically radiating with energy as she surveyed every detail of the new arrival sitting in front of their aging farmhouse. Jo nodded yes to her niece’s question, just hoping that her assent would mean that she would be free to turn around and study Gio’s face again. Silently, she was praying that he had already opened the car door and gotten inside.
Only he hadn’t, and at the slightest hint of being acknowledged Violette moved closer, taking two small steps to the very edge of the porch. “Can we drive it then, please? Please?”
“It's nearly dark, ma petite chérie.” The voice had come from the front porch. It was tired, pained almost, as if it had tried to say no and failed before. So without even the slightest hint of pushback, it immediately acquiesced to the question. “Just - not past the edge of town. Alright, Jo?”
Violette looked back toward the door thankfully, where both of her parents had now emerged to see what all the noise was about. She looked back at the car, barely taking note of how they avoided each other's eyes, or how her mother made no attempt to put her arm around her father the way she usually would have. “Would you come with us, Poppa? Just for a ride? Momma?”
“Not today, princess. Have fun.”
Silently, Antoine flared his nose and stifled the response that was truly on the edge of his tongue. I’ll be in that goddamn car soon enough. I’m not getting in it a second before I need to. Not today, not tomorrow. Not until my guitar is back in its case and Josephine is yelling at me that it's time to leave from the porch. Not a minute sooner. Not even for you.
Then he looked sideways at Zelda, seemingly to prompt her to answer their daughter’s question, but really because he knew that she could read the frustration in his face. Only she immediately turned away, looking back at Violette and shaking her head no before she could even repeat the question.
With a shrug of her shoulders, Violette bounded onto the sand and climbed inside the car without even opening the door; then she worked her way into the back seat where she started to run her hand along the red leather in amazement. Josephine stared at her incredulously, silently cursing her niece’s unabashed nature for the first time in her life. Only she knew that there was no deposing her from the car now, so she just looked up toward Gio once again.
Even with the distraction, his face had remained stony - his nostrils flared and his hand gripping the door so tightly that it had nearly turned his knuckles white.
He looked up toward Jo at the sound of his name, pulled from some reverie left suspended the moment she had skillfully dodged his question minutes before. Although he was looking at her now, he saw her sitting in a bar in the red knit cardigan she used to like to wear before she could afford even a silk driving scarf, much less a car like the one in front of them now. In his memory her face was defiant - defensive even; and at her elbow sat a woman looking up at him with knowing eyes, sparking the suspicions that he had long tried to hide behind dying rows of corn in the moonlight.
“Will you come with us?” Her question pulled him from the haze of his memory and his eyes cleared to her face now; then with a cold knife to his heart he realized that there wasn’t even an ounce of defiance left in her expression. It had been replaced with something even more damning than any defensiveness could be. Guilt. The slight furrow of her brow that had only grown more prominent week after week. The tears staining her face in the open sunlight. Guilt.
“Gio, please…” He had to blink the sunlight out from his eyes to even recognize her voice. It was filled with something he had never heard from her. Raw, imploring need. It seemed like even she had heard it, and she looked back in the direction of the now empty porch like she was in pain. Only even turned, written deep in the lines of her face, he could see it as clear as day. Guilt.
Violette leaned forward, fiddling with the radio impatiently. Not even her mindless movements could pull away Jo’s attention. She turned back toward Gio intently, no longer even trying to hide what she knew had slipped past the mask and into the narrow space between her face and her dark rimmed glasses.
She kept her shielded eyes locked on his as she reached the red of her gloved hand toward the leather as though to say, I’m not leaving without you. I’m here. Please. I’m here. Look. I promise. It’s always been you. Deep inside, she knew that she could say something to make him believe her - coercion or subtle insults that would make him open the door and get inside the car, but she left them unsaid even if his denial might have been the final match in the powder keg she had filled herself.
His hand tightened on the car as his eyes stayed locked on hers. Just below the tips of his fingers, the engine had finally grown cold, but she made no impatient move toward the door handle like he would normally have expected her to. Rather she stood still, letting the car remain motionless in front of this house that she claimed to hate so much - the same one he had brought her to all those years ago without her consent. The same one he had expected her to leave the moment she found out his betrayal. An eye for an eye. That’s what the Lord said was his due, wasn’t it?
Swallowing a lump of rising fire in his throat, he looked down at the car slumbering between them like an unspoken apology. “So that’s it? You're not going back there again?”
The note of suppressed rage in his voice seemed to distract even Violette, whose hand stayed on the radio while her eyes migrated into the furthermost corners of her eyes. But even while looking toward Gio, she could still hear the relief flood her Aunt Josephine's voice. “No. Never. I promise you.”
Looking back up at her, he nodded his head slowly, letting his face transform into a half smile before he reached for the car door. Hurriedly, she rushed into the driver’s seat alongside him, fluttering her hands and fixing her dress in a series of nervous movements wholly unlike her. Perhaps fearing he'd change his mind, she turned the keys in the ignition and let the sound of the car's engine once again fill the desert air and chase away the ghosts in her mind.
But with the sun to their backs, Gio turned his face toward the house he had dreamed of for so long. It was hard to see it as anything more than a cabin out in the desert now, desperately trying to keep the dirt out while the coarse sand around it insisted on reclaiming everything in a prehistoric rage. Suddenly in that moment he realized that he hated it just as much as she always did. It felt like it had taken everything from him all the while luring him on with the promise of abundance. If he just gave a little more, it had promised him, then maybe it would be something. Yet there it stood, still decrepit and forever on the cusp of crumbling around him.
Only when she touched his hand did he turn back in her direction, letting the sun hit the corner of his eye and perfectly shielding his emotions from her in exactly the same way she thought only she could do.
