Dear Agony

Part II

I finished throwing clothes into a backpack before tucking the folder with all the letters and cash down inside. Zipping it closed, I hauled it onto my shoulder as I made my way out to the garage. I strode past my grandfather's Monte Carlo, giving it an appreciative glance before moving over to my '69 Roadrunner. Its black paint gleamed under the fluorescent lights of the garage.

I was so proud of myself the day I bought her a few years back. I worked my ass off and saved up the couple grand that she was listed for. She was in rough shape, all bare metal with some surface rust and bondo in spots. Ricky let me keep her around back of the shop in an unused bay. I worked on her day and night when I wasn't on duty in the shop. It took me almost a year to restore her, but it was worth every second.

I smiled at the memories as I opened the door. Tossing my pack onto the passenger seat, I dropped into the car. I gripped the steering wheel as I hooked the key into the ignition. I paused a moment as I stared out the open garage door.

"Here goes nothin'," I sighed as the engine roared to life and I pulled out onto the street.

I swung down to the shop and gave Ricky a brief rundown of last night's events. He was very understanding and told me to take as much time as I needed and to touch base with him in a few days. That man truly was a godsend.

I drove for about twelve hours before stopping for the night at the AZ/CA border. The last leg of the trip tomorrow would take about seven hours or so I figured.

I laid on the motel bed, my father's letters spread around me on the comforter. I read over them again and stared at the pictures as if willing my brain to remember the men. Going over his last letters it suddenly dawned on me. I quickly rifled through and gathered all the ones sent after mom's accident. My eyes scanned through them before I froze and dropped the papers to the bed, my hand clasped over my mouth in shock.

He never mentioned her death.

He still referred to her in present tense.

He didn't know.

I sat there for a few moments, my mind reeling. I doubt mom had even known about the letters since they were all sent to my grandfather's house. I guess my dad thought that Charles would give them to me, knowing that mom would probably just take the money and burn the letters. Charles most likely didn't want to cause any family fights or have me blame him for keeping them from me, so he packed them away and waited until he was gone. Coward move but what's done is done I guess. I had them now, and it was up to me to fix this.

~*~*~*~*~

I towel dried my hair as I stepped back into the small motel room. It was already hot this morning and the air conditioning barely blew cold in this run down joint. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a black tank top, donned my boots and threw my hair into a braid. I packed the letters back into the backpack and headed out to the lot.

I stopped around the corner at the local drive thru. As I waited at the window, I fiddled with the photo I had tucked in the mirror of the sun visor. I traced my finger lightly over my father's face as my nerves started to come to light.

Was this the right move?

Would he even want to see me?

I shook my head, willing the thoughts away. No matter how this went, I needed to know. We'd both been robbed from a life with each other and been lied to for years. Good outcome or bad, we both needed this closure. I paid for my food and sighed as I pulled back out onto the highway, cranking the radio to drown out the nervous thoughts running through my head.