Ending #4

In which we find the fourth installment of an ending for something that has not been written.


I looked outside and saw that the rain had ended. The hotel room was still dark, and Sherrie was lying on the bed, the heavy blanket pulled up to her chin. The garbage truck that I'd heard earlier had just left the parking lot, the flashing orange light on its roof reflected in puddles. "It's going to be a good day," I said as I sat on the foot of the bed. "The rain has stopped."

Sherrie pushed against my back with her foot. "You say every day is going to be good."

"I'm an optimist," I told her.

"Since when?" I liked how her voice sounded in the morning: soft, a little raspy.

"Since I met you," I said. And I meant that, too. When we left Paducah, just before we crossed the river into Illinois, I realized that things had changed and were going to be different. It was a good realization.

"You're sappy, sometimes," Sherrie said. "Come back to bed."

I wanted to get on the road early. We were almost to St. Louis, and I didn't want our momentum to stop. "Only for a little while," I said. 

Under the covers, I lay on my back as Sherrie pushed up against me and rested her forearm on my chest. I felt protected, loved. "I'm going to drive into Missouri," she said. 

"Then I get Kansas," I said. "You can have all of Missouri."

She giggled. "This is exciting, isn't it?"

"It is," I said. 

We were quiet for awhile. Daylight had begun moving around the side of the window's drapes. I could tell from her breathing that Sherrie had drifted off. I shut my eyes and thought that maybe she had the right idea. Everything that had happened in Paducah had been left behind when we'd packed the car and driven out of town. So, I lay there and caressed Sherrie's forearm, letting my eyes shut to the morning, letting Sherrie hold me like that.