Out of the Blue

How Did We Get Here?

I turned down the small silver volume dial on the dash as I peered over at Kolby strumming his hands along the top of the steering wheel. 

"This isn't going to change anything." I placed my bare arms across my chest. 

"I didn't say it would." Kolby laughed, "But Lex, it has been a couple years now. A lot has changed." 

He was right. A lot had changed. But I wasn't about to get in to that can of worms right this minute. Which would probably come to bite me in the behind later on. Story of my life. I sighed and let my eyes wander back to the road as we came to a stop sign. I was expecting him to turn right and make his way down to a little dirt road off to the left. A modest ranch style house with four wheelers and motorcycles sitting underneath a make shift car port. But instead, Kolby put on his blinker signaling left. He looked over at me with a wide grin. He knew something I didn't. But I was not going to question it at this point. I was already in his rusty old truck. What was I going to do, walk back if I didn't like the answer? 

After ten excruciating minutes, we came to a slow stop. Kolby waited patiently for a car to pass before he turned to the right, a wood and black iron gate came up directly in front of us. 

"I thought you said we were going to Brantley's. " I made it sound more of a statement than a question, straightening up in my seat. 

Kolby shrugged his large shoulders, "We are." 

I gave him a puzzled look. He hit a button on a panel, allowing the gates to open. I looked behind us through the back window as they closed and the truck kept chugging along a light grey cement driveway. The trees hiding the contents within the gates. I didn't understand until Kolby rounded the corner. The familiar four wheelers outside of an expansive workshop looking building. A mud pit in the corner which was clearly used for the 4x4s.  A huge cabin like home sitting in the middle of it all. A double garage with a single truck sitting in a space. The rest of the cars pulled up along the entrance of the workshop. Or Dawg House as the sign said above the doorway. 

Kolby fiddled with the silver key in the ignition, turning off his truck. He pulled it out at a glacial pace, looking over at me. I didn't know what to say. I know it had been quite a few years since I had left this little town. But how did all of this happen while I was gone? Like everyone had moved on without me. Without a single care in the world. 

"C'mon small fry. I think someone might be waiting for us." He made gesture with his head toward an open metal overhead door. 

Standing with their back to the bar close by the entrance, was a pair of light green eyes glaring in my direction. A black brimmed baseball cap put on backwards, showcasing his matured features. A long beard that he ran a rough hand through. Countless tattoos on display. 

I sat in the car seat ready to slink to the floor and hide. Kolby coaxed me with a hand from the passenger side door that he had opened and was standing in for a few minutes now. I bit my lip and pushed myself up. My ripped light wash jeans showing my tanned legs as I adjusted my black henley tank top. My black flip flops clapping against the cement. Even they were protesting this gathering. 

I hid behind Kolby's ridiculously tall frame as we made our way over. I furiously ran a hand through my light brown hair, trying to get it to resemble like I somewhat have my shit together. As we entered the building on to the black and white tiled floor, the smell of tobacco and cologne surrounded me. It pulled at my heart strings as I breathed it in again and again. 

"Hey!" Someone yelled from over by the black leather sectional in front of the flat screen TV. 

"Hey, man!" Kolby shouted in surprise, like he hadn't seen whoever it was in years. He walked over to see the rest of the group, leaving me standing in front of Brantley. No hiding spots in sight. Well none that would make me look like a sane person. 

"Hey," He replied, pushing off of the bar to come a little closer. 

"Hi." I offered up with a meek smile. I was suddenly sweating like a pole dancer in Sunday Church. 

There once was a day when I couldn't take my hands off of this man. What was going on here. How did we get here?