July 5, 2008
What a fourth. Sadly, it was my turn to to drive over the holiday but James came along. He attached a flag to the grill of the truck and took our picture in front of it. Kind of cheesy but sweet in the same way. At least when James rides with me, he picks out the good radio stations. It was definitly old times. We are heading towards Chicago and the once the sun set we were lucky to catch glimpses of fireworks. I told him we should have a fire works display at the reception. He smiled and said nothing.
Things have been going to perfect for us lately. But I knew something would turn that up side down. Some where in New York, a voice came over the radio. I knew who it was, Broken Guitar, he asked for someone to talk to him. James diddled with the radio, then out of nowhere the CB called my name, “Pink Panther, are you on. I know you are near by, you want to talk?” Broken Guitar has never called me out before and it scared the hell out of me. Yes I know I drive a pink truck but he has never mentioned in all the times that we talked that he has seen me or my truck. James stopped and demanded answers.
I told him the truth that I only talked to him on the CB sometimes long before him and I got back together. I don’t know why but he didn’t believe me. He started cursing and yelling and saying I was cheating on him. Broken Guitar called to me again, I had the urge to pick up the radio and have James talk to him and see for himself that Broken Guitar never met. I knew that would be a bad idea because James would see it as a lover covering up. I didn’t argue with him.
Once we were close to Buffalo for the night, he spoke to me. He asked if I ever met Broken Guitar. I said no and I told him that I wanted to a couple of months ago, that he asked and I didn’t go. He seemed oddly satisfied with that answer. Then he said, “you know I love you very much and something bothers me about how he knows what kind of truck you have”
I grabbed his hands and face him, “it bothers me too.” That was the truth.
