The Vacation

It was late Friday evening when Amanda finally made her way out of town. The journey ahead was long and exhausting, but she had committed so many months ago to visiting her aunt in the mountains, and now it was finally time to make good on that promise. Three hours into the trip, nearly midnight, she made her way into a little diner on the side of the two-lane highway and was greeted warmly by a pack of locals who were still riding high with a few kicks of late-night spirits.

Amanda quickly slid into a booth far removed from the modest crowd and picked up a menu. “Hi there, darlin’,” a mousy middle-aged woman cooed. “What’ll ‘ya have this evenin’.” “I’d like a grilled cheese, a coffee, and uhhh…ummm…how about a milkshake too?” “Perfect, it’ll be right out.” The thought of an oozy mess of cheese was only slightly tantalizing, but without at least some form of nourishment and a jolt of caffeine another two hours of driving seemed all but surmountable.

As Amanda lounged back into the scuffed burgundy cushions, she reflected upon her previous week. The heavy burden of stress that she had carried with her over the past few days of work now seemed far removed. She was venturing out of the city, for the first time in months, with a vision of making sense of the mess that her life had somehow become over the course of its recent chapters. Now, there was time to think and reflect.

Amanda’s mind quickly wandered back to days of her youth, when she and her dad would scuttle out of town early on Saturday mornings to do some mulling around a few rural yard sales. Just about lunchtime, on their way home, her dad would pull into a little blue diner on the edge of the highway and he would order a burger, or if he was really hungry a hearty helping of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. For Amanda, the order was always the same, a grilled cheese and a coke. They’d sit for about 20 minutes eating their food and chatting about her dad’s plans to mow the yard or repair the fence once they returned home. Before they left, Amanda would sit on the edge of her seat while her dad ran to the restroom, elbows perched atop the table and legs curled underneath, watching truckers and other travelers hustle in for a quick bite. Still, she remembered the time when the little boy with the broken leg came stumbling in with his mother hoping for a few steamy cups of soup to go. His hands were muddy and his hair looked like a swarm of bees had flown into it and made a nest. The mother’s appearance was striking-bloodshot eyes turned downward except for a quick piercing glance in the direction of a lone man sitting quietly by the door reading the morning paper.

“Here you are, sweetheart” came the words that ushered Amanda back to the present. A big white plate with Texas Toast slathered in American cheese was placed before her, and soon thereafter a scalding cup of coffee, a peachy-tinted milkshake, and the check. “Not quite the same as it used to be,” Amanda thought, as she  picked at her food. She slipped an ice cube into her mug and quickly gulped back the black hazelnut blend, pushed aside her milkshake and then hit the road.

Before she knew it, Amanda was rounding the corner to Aunt Janine’s cabin, tucked away in a dark mountain pass. Walking up to the door, Amanda noticed the egg-shaped mat that had been there for years, with the words “Welcome Home” faintly blended into its faded green backdrop. Amanda tugged at the latch, which opened slowly with a loud creak, and let herself into the living room. Along the opposite wall, embers from an earlier fire exhaled their last breaths and tumbled down into a pile of ashes. To Amanda’s right, Aunt Janine was snuggled underneath a thick mass of brown fur, stirring slightly at the noise at the entryway. Amanda flicked off the lamp beside the couch and eased her aunt down, covering her with another blanket that lay across the back of the couch. This place seemed familiar but forgotten all at the same time. It’d been years since her uncle’s passing, but Amanda could see how his death had changed her aunt’s appearance; her body felt frail and worn down. Amanda recalled the days when her aunt used to run marathons in the mountains. Aunt Janine would rise with the sun, hit the trails, and be back before Uncle Joe had even finished heating up the water for his morning coffee. Those days now felt like eons past. The weakened frame that Amanda slowly released felt foreign and helpless. Her aunt had always been a peculiar woman with a lot of spunk, and even in her weakened health Amanda knew that she was still a firecracker at the dinner table.

Soon, Amanda settled into bed, with the radiator chugging to the rhythms of the nighttime chill. What the next day held in store was a mystery that awaited her. Lots to think about, lots to discuss. But for now, her eyelids dropped and her body cocooned itself into a deep slumber.

[to be continued...]