Title: Rest
Stop
Author: rowan
Copyright:
MajickRowan Productions 2000
Summary: A
story about a break-up inspired by a song about a break-up…
Notes: I’m not
sure if this is how it actually happened, but I like to think I got close.
Disclaimer: The
lyrics to ‘Rest Stop’ belong to Rob Thomas and are ăBlackwood Music, Inc. 2000. I’m only
borrowing them. I'll put them back once I got done. :^)
Dedication: To Rob,
for providing the words.
Rob could sense
it when the car began to slow. He
sensed it just he had felt her uneasiness earlier. He had not asked her what was wrong then and
he did not ask now why she had slowed the car to a crawl and was slowly
steering it onto the road’s grassy shoulder.
He clung to the thin protection sleep offered, preferring his own
troubled dreams to her real troubles (whatever they may be). He did not know that she had seen his eyes
twitch open and could now see them pinched closed in his unsuccessful attempt
to fake REM.
She had always
had better than average vision and now used it to her advantage as she watched
his calm face in the darkness of her car.
The night pressed in on them, seeping through the windows, bringing
shadow. She wasted a full five minutes
in contemplation before she reached out to touch his arm.
Her cold
fingers against his warm skin startled him.
Rob had not heard her move, despite the fact that he had been listening-waiting
for her to speak. He jumped at her
touch.
"Rob, wake
up."
His eyes shot
open.
Shit.
He feigned
ignorance. “Hey babe, what’s up? Why’d we stop?” He forced a yawn. His
voice sounded strange to him.
She was
unconvinced. “We need to talk.” Her voice was no more than a whisper, but
her words were thunder.
‘No shit.’ He thought.
He righted his seat and stared ahead, no longer willing to look at
her. He focused on a mile marker. For some reason the number struck him as
ominous: twenty.
Neither of them
spoke. Apparently, ‘we need to talk’
was the whole of her argument. She did
not know how to continue, and he did not want to.
“Grace,” he
said.
She jumped at
her name. She closed her bright blue
eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose.
“Yes?”
“Go
ahead.” The car was beginning to grow
cold, and he was beginning to grow angry.
“This is hard
for me, Rob,” she offered as an explanation.
“Really?” His tone was cold.
She
sniffed. “Please don’t be like that?”
“Like what?”
“Please, don’t
be…mad.”
He closed his
eyes and calmed down. "I am not mad. I’m worried. You stop the fuckin’ car
on the side of the highway at like-“ he stopped to check his watch.
“-Fuckin’ three
in the morning and you tell me we need to talk and then you don’t say anything
and it’s getting cold in here!”
She re-started
the car and soon thin wisps of artificially heated air drifted into the space
between them. Again, they settled into silence.
He heard her
sniffling and knew she was crying.
“You’re going
to have to say something eventually.”
“I know! God, Rob!” she sounded so frustrated. He really was not making this easy on
her. He had not pegged her as the
yelling type. Of course, he didn’t know
her that well.
Five days. You
should not be this attached. He always did give himself the best advice. If
only he would follow it.
“This is hard
and I am trying to do this to avoid as much pain as possible.”
Pain. It always
came back to pain.
Pain is what
led him to California in the first place.
Led him to her. Led him here.
“Just say
it. I promise I won’t break.” He tried to believe it himself.
“I just, I feel
like I love you too much,” she said.
'What the fuck
is that supposed to mean mean!' “What
the fuck is that supposed to mean!”
“Please don’t
yell at me,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry.” And he was.
It was not supposed to go like this.
But just how was it supposed to go?
“It’s just that
I’ve only known you for a week, and you’re so young. This could never work.”
“Fuck,” he
sighed quietly.
“I just don’t
think it’s wise for us to drag this out… it’ll hurt more later.”
“Why are you
assuming this isn’t going to work?” He
looked at her. Taking in the sickly
pallor of her pale skin in the green illumination of the dashboard lights, the
way it changed the color of her platinum blonde hair. She looked ill, and sad.
She was so pretty.
She took a deep
breath before she answered. “Do you
know why I stopped for you in the first place?”
“Answering a
question with a question: good tactic.”
“Rob, please.”
He shook his
head. “No, Grace, I don’t know why you
stopped for me.”
"I had
just signed my divorce papers and I really needed to get laid."
He laughed, a
short outburst, which is what she had been hoping he would do. "I was supposed to be a one-time
thing," he said with a sad smile.
She said- while you were sleeping
I was listening to the radio and wondering what you're dreaming when it came to
mind that I didn't care...
"I was
supposed to let you go, but you have... there's just so much of you... I got
caught up. And tonight I was watching you sleep and it just occurred to me that
I might be falling in love."
"Occurred,"
he whispered.
"So I
stopped and I asked myself if that would be a bad thing."
"Do I get
a say in all of this?"
She dropped her
head and turned toward him, so she was looking up at him, her crystalline blue
eyes, sparked beneath their sheen of tears.
"No." She continued, "I tried to imagine us
staying together and I couldn't. So I
decided to end this now before you fell in love with me or I did something I’d
regret later.”
“That’s
bullshit!” He shouted. She began to cry harder.
“I knew I was
pushing it by waiting this long, but I was so confused. I’m just hurting you anyway,” she sobbed.
His anger
melted away. He sat there, watching the
minutes blink away on the digital dashboard clock. After three minutes passed, she had stopped crying but continued
to sniffle. He felt awful. He turned to her and pulled her into a hug,
crushing her to him, her face pressed into his chest. Her damp face soaked into his shirt.
‘Well, this is
odd. She’s the one kicking you
out. How did you end up comforting her?’ He continued to rub her back in small
circles.
So I thought,
hell, if it's over
I had better
end it quick before could lose my nerve…
"Grace,
look at me."
She turns her
tear-streaked voice up at him.
"It's OK.
I understand," he said and knew that he did.
"My
ex-husband was right."
"About
what?" he asked as he reached into the backseat to retrieve his backpack.
"He said I
was always fucking things up. And that I always want what I shouldn't
have." She sniffled again.
He didn't
respond. Didn’t know how. Instead, he opened his door and climbed out of the
car. He slung his bag over his shoulder. He moved towards the trunk to get his
guitar case. Grace jumped from her side and came to the back to open the trunk
for him. He pulled his guitar over his other shoulder. Now they stood, at the
back of the car, not speaking.
Finally, Grace
broke the silence.
"Aren't
you gonna say something, Rob?"
"What's to
say?" Indeed.
"I guess
this is goodbye," she said as she stared at the ground.
"I
guess." His voice was cold and devoid of emotion.
"Alright.
I'm sorry. I really didn't want to hurt you."
He just nodded.
She turned and
returned to the emptiness of her car. She swung a hard u-turn and drove off
back towards where they had come from.
He was left,
standing roadside, staring at her rapidly receding taillights.
Are you
listening?