Chapter 3
Susan was making good time on the road. She felt unusually clear-headed and alert. Her car windows were down and the 66° Fahrenheit, piedmont morning air was whistling through her jet-black Native American locks.
She cleared Monroe before the Friday morning traffic started getting bad. She was going around Laurinburg on the US 74 Bypass when she heard a text alert on her cell phone. She clicked on the new message icon. It was from Mark; it read:
Which beach are you headed to?
When exactly will you be back?
I need the car this weekend.
Susan sighed and shook her head. She kept driving for another eleven miles. Then she pulled off the highway at the next exit to take a pee and get an energy bar.
In the convenience store parking lot, she composed a reply for Mark; it read:
I will be at Carolina Beach – alone.
You’ll be fine without the car this one
weekend. Go get stoned with your
friends at a hipster bar in Wigwood.
She pressed the Send key and rolled out of the parking lot back onto Highway NC 710. She quickly turned her phone off and threw it into her handbag. She knew Mark would call and/or text back. She was done with him for the next three days. God, he fucking annoys me.
Soon she was back on US 74 East, cruising through the Lumber River swamplands. Wow, it’s so green down here, but the river and creek water is black. I’d hate to have this car break down here. Looks like it’s full of gators and snakes.
Then she saw the green mileage sign. Ah, seventy miles to Wilmington and another fifteen more to Carolina Beach. I should be there in an hour and a half.
The blue Dodge Neon began climbing the western side of the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge about an hour later. The car’s transmission wasn’t slipping too badly. C’mon, baby, you can make it!
It was a tall vertical-lift-type bridge with personnel offices high above the roadway. I wonder if the guy who works up there watches porn like Mark. Looks like a lonely-ass gig. Maybe he doesn’t work alone. Maybe he’s balling some bimbo right now up there. What the hell am I thinking?
She was so lost in her thoughts that she had started to lane-drift. BEEP! She had almost sideswiped another sedan in the left lane. The well-dressed business lady in the Audi flipped her the bird and mouthed the words: “Fuck you, bitch!”
She got back in her travel lane – completely – and recomposed. Whew! Damn, that was close. Need to stay focused on the road. Gosh, it would totally suck to wreck this car. Mark would be livid. We’d have no wheels.
She then glanced over at downtown Wilmington to her left. She remembered a time when she and Mark had spent a romantic weekend in that quaint river city. The morning brunch at the hip little coffeehouse on Front Street. The nice dinner at the seafood restaurant overlooking the Cape Fear River on Water Street. The evening strolls. What happened to them? Where did it all go wrong? Why did it all go wrong?
She still loved him at some base level; she couldn’t lie to herself. Though, she often did. She just had to get away from him for a while. Absence would make her weary heart grow fonder – or further – she thought. It would be a test – a crucible. She would know by Sunday which way to go.
At the stoplight on the other side of the bridge, Susan made the right turn onto US 421 South for Carolina Beach. She was on the home stretch now. Yes, we’re going to make it.
As she passed Greenfield Park on the left, she remembered the place where Mark proposed to her. She could see that very cypress tree. It was still there. So many memories in this area. Maybe I should have gone to a different beach.
Susan rolled over the concrete humpback bridge that spanned Snow’s Cut at exactly 10:01 AM. The Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway glistened below. A section of the water’s surface looked like a wise old sage. What secrets lay in those depths, kind sir? Please do tell.
She was hungry; she had skipped breakfast. She pulled into the Carolina Beach McRonald’s. It was already crowded with tourists. School had ended two weeks ago, and kids were running everywhere. It was a madhouse.
Susan only ordered a plain biscuit and a small orange juice. She was also going to lose some weight on this beach trip. She was determined to consume fewer calories. Will power. You can do this, girl. No fried food on this trip. No more French fries. No more fatty foods. No milk shakes! And, nothing with trans fat. Be strong.