10 States

By J. L'Amour

Charles Rodriguez is thirty-five year old man in the midst of a divorce and jobless. He reluctantly embarks on a ten state journey on his father's truck route along the I-95. The two day trip dives into the family's past choices and Charles's current misfortunes with his marriage, career and non-existent relationship with his father. Each state will connect them in ways unimaginable. "10 States" is a journey of love,loss,purpose and redemption.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667813509

Book preview

New York

You want a divorce? Charles looks across the table at his soon-to- be ex-wife. This is what you planned to tell me on our night out?

Vanessa glances around the restaurant, giving a nervous smile to the onlookers. She leans over to him, responding in a low tone. Let’s not be too loud. Everyone’s looking at us.

Well, how you expect me to react? Charles groans, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Let me treat you to our last supper. He pauses for a few seconds. Regaining his thoughts, he continues speaking, How long you’ve considered this? Why now?

Vanessa covers the left side of her face with her curly hair as she shields the other side with her shaky hand. She leans in whispering like an uptight librarian. Charles, you’ve repeated the same questions. We’ve grown apart, and it’s not fair to continue wasting each other’s time.

But this is so sudden. I didn’t know our marriage was in shambles. We don’t fight or disagree about much.

Exactly.

So, you want us to fight more? That’s what’s missing?

No Charles. Her busy eyes scan the restaurant. This is embarrassing.

Tell me about it.

I know this is sudden but I’ve been thinking about this for some time now. I thought about doing marriage counseling, going to church, planning a romantic trip, but…

Charles silently waits to hear the next words that will pierce his heart. But what?

She pauses for a few seconds, waiting for the attention that has been steadily climbing throughout the restaurant to die down. But I’m not committed to saving our marriage.

The fried calamari and lasagna slowly climbs up Charles’s stomach, making sure to bypass his sinking heart. The waitress arrives with the check, noticing his painful expression. In turn, her bright smile quickly changes into a concerned frown. Is he ok?

He’s fine. I’ll take the check. Vanessa grumbles.

Charles intercepts the transaction, grabbing the check from the waitress. No, I’ll take the check. It’s a special occasion.

Oh really? The waitress asks in an intriguing tone.

This is my divorce dinner.

The waitress glances awkwardly between the two of them. Take your time. She walks off without making any additional eye contact.

Charles slowly reaches for his wallet, placing his card onto the table. He looks into Vanessa’s dark brown eyes; her eyelashes twirl upwards, matching perfectly with her curly chestnut colored hair. She looks around the restaurant, her stillness unnatural, as she applies lip-gloss to her soft pink lips. I don’t feel right making you pay. I’m the one that set this up. She snatches the check from his lifeless grip.

"I don’t understand, Vanessa. We’ve been married for twelve years. His hand fumbles into his wallet. He flips the black leather flap, removing his wedding photo from the plastic insert. Vanessa looks unfazed at his trembling hands sliding the photo across the table.

You shouldn’t feel right about giving up on us.

She stares down at the dozen-year-old photo. Her dress was the very first one she’d tried on at the bridal store. It had been perfect. Her arms were covered in lacy, illusion sleeves and the deep neckline made her a winter queen. She still remembers passing by the thrilled faces of friends and family as she walked down the aisle. Let’s go home, Charles. Handing back his card, she furiously digs through her purse, finding her wallet and slipping a hundred-dollar bill onto the check.

But I’m not finished talking.

Let’s continue our discussion in the car. I need to get out of here.

The drive back is awkwardly silent. Charles tries gathering his thoughts while seated on the passenger seat. What did I miss? How could I be so blindsided? Why is this happening? He desperately pushes the window button on the doorframe pillar. The cold air awakens him, shooting life into his boiling body. His eyes focus on the cloudless night skies, then at the city’s glowing lights across the Whitestone Bridge. The river below mirrors a blurry version of the city skyline.

Why are you lowering the windows? It’s twenty-five degrees outside. Vanessa turns the temperature knob on the dashboard to seventy-five degrees. She raises her voice. So, are we going to talk? She peeks over in agitation.

What you want me to say? I have too many thoughts running through my mind.

What are you feeling?

The cold air hitting his face helps numb down his pain. I can’t feel a thing, Vanessa he replies while commanding the window up, losing sight of the city skyline. Remember the day we got married? It was around the same temperature. You were a trooper that day. Still found a way to smile for all those photos. I haven’t seen that smile for quite some time. He places his cold hand on Vanessa’s leg, caressing her thigh down to her knee. Let’s not give up on each other. What can I do?

I’m sorry, Charles. This hurts me just as much. Vanessa wipes away the tears slowly running down her rosy cheek. She quickly merges onto the Cross Island Expressway, giving the car a sudden jolt. This is what we both need. She says, swallowing hard.

Have you spoken to anyone about this? What did your friends and family say?

I haven’t spoken to anyone. Only you.

Someone else has to know about your master plan.

There’s no master plan, Charles. I’m being honest with you and in return, you’re questioning everything I say. She turns up the volume on the radio, trying to block out their tensed conversation.

Charles clears his throat as Romeo Santos sings of heartbreak in the background. I can’t listen to this, he says reaching for the volume knob.

Leave it, please!

He’s startled by Vanessa’s sharp tone. He obliges, hiding his hands into his coat pockets, thinking about his uncertain future. He remains mute while returning to his thoughts. How do I break the news of my divorce? Who do I tell first? What will Mom say? Where am I going to live? Why is this fucking happening?

A few minutes later, they arrive at their building. She puts the car in reverse to parallel park. The park sensors give a loud beep as her bumper comes within inches of the parked car. She lets out a grunt, shifting the gear into drive, pressing the gas pedal. The car beeps again as she nearly hits the parked car in front.

You want me to park? Charles asks.

I’ve got it! Vanessa shouts spinning the steering wheel like a captain of a ship. Once stationed, she forcefully puts the shifting gear in park. Vanessa’s half opened mouth let’s out short breaths, before inhaling deeply. She releases tensed exhales before looking over at Charles. I think we need a few days to ourselves.

Fine. Charles replies reaching for his phone. I’ll call Bryan. Once home, Charles slowly packs three sweaters, two pairs of pants, underwear, socks, and his shaving kit into his duffle bag. He takes a seat on their queen-sized bed, pushing his feet along the blue-stained wooden frames and setting his phone on the matching end table to his right. Vanessa is patiently seated on the living room couch. She takes a sip of her wine, gently placing the wine glass onto the oak coffee table in the center of the room.

Charles stares at her from the master room. Her curled hair seems to have the perfect bounce and shine whenever exposed to light. He can’t fathom the thought of being without her. They’ve been together since their early twenties. She was his school crush in Middle School. He’s married his soul mate and now has to fathom the idea of moving towards an unknown destiny. He slowly lifts himself off the bed, sulking out the room with his duffle bag hanging from his beaten shoulder. Vanessa takes a generous gulp of her wine before marching over to the entrance door with her keys in hand. I’ll take you.

You don’t have to do that. I’ll just Uber it.

I’m taking you. Stop being difficult.

You really don’t care how I feel about this? Charles drops his duffle bag. The lightly packed bag lands onto the floor with a dramatic thump. Why are you being so cold? You know, Vanessa, I’ve never pictured you and I getting divorced. It bothers me that you still cannot give me a straight answer. I need to know why this is happening.

Vanessa unlocks the door at the entrance without making any eye contact. What you want me to say?

I want you to tell me the truth! He shouts. That’s all I ask, returning to his calmer tone.

Let’s take a few days to ourselves, Vanessa answers exhaustedly. She opens the door, waving for him to follow. C’mon, let’s go.

The car ride to Bryan’s home is once again silent. Charles stares at his best friend’s house once they arrive at the driveway. He reaches for his duffle bag in the back seat, waiting a few seconds before speaking. Say something.

Vanessa nervously bites her quivering bottom lip. Her curls shake in sequence as she thinks to herself. She finds the courage to stare at him with disappointing eyes. Teary eyed, she apologizes. I’m sorry.

Are you seeing someone?

Really? Vanessa answers in a disappointed tone.

Sorry for asking. Charles opens the door, his feet hesitantly accompanying his numb legs, which have a hard time getting out the car. He slowly shakes life back into his limbs, marching towards Bryan’s front door like a wounded veteran. He tries standing tall, raising his shoulders and head up. He gives himself a pep talk with each step. Be strong. You can’t show her any weakness. She will change her mind. She has to change her mind! Peeking over his shoulder, he finds Vanessa’s car pulling away from the curb. His head and shoulders slump down in defeat, slowly climbing the three steps before the entrance.

The door opens before he can knock. What’s good, my brother? Bryan’s dressed in his blue colored Mets sweater with the matching pajama pants. He grabs the duffle bag off Charles’s shoulder. Let me help you with that.

Charles notices his friends receding hairline, which only gets worse as the years progress. He thinks of how much hair he used to have when they met in grade school. Bryan signals with his index finger; Come down to the basement, you’re going to love it, man. He first removes his slippers before stepping onto the basement floor. Charles follows, untying his sneakers and placing them onto the designated shoe rack. He points at the gray carpet and freshly painted royal blue colored walls. Check it out! I did this all by myself. New carpet, renovated bathroom, flat screen television with the PlayStation 4 and the most comfortable pull out couch you’ve ever sat in.

Thanks, man. I appreciate this. Charles replies, taking his seat on the legendary couch, nodding in agreement once he experiences the plush cushions.

Bryan flops onto the couch next to his best friend. Anytime, man. I’ve been in the doghouse plenty of times. What the fuck you do? Vanessa doesn’t seem like the type to kick you out for a fight. Did you cheat on her?

Of course not.

Yeah. You’re too loyal for that shit.

She wants a divorce. That’s why I’m here.

Bryan places his hands over his balding head. No way! Sorry to hear that, bro. Did you see this coming or fight about anything in particular? I mean… shit he sighs. Why didn’t you tell me you guys were struggling?

She didn’t give me a clear reason why. This is so unreal. I had no idea Vanessa wanted a divorce. I don’t know where to begin with my life. I love her. I only want to be with her. It’s just hard to make any sense of this.

Bryan gives him a supportive pat on the back. Don’t worry. We’re here for you. My family loves you and you can stay down here in the basement. I’m sure you guys will figure things out and get back together. Bryan slaps the seat, giving Charles a slight bump with his shoulder. Make yourself at home and just get a good night’s sleep. This is a short-term stay. You’ll be back home in no time."

Heavy footsteps on the floor above, interrupts their moment.

Bryan shouts from the couch, Dylan! Get your ass down here! A little boy peeks into the basement, his hands clutching at his John Cena wrestling shirt, his baggy jeans bundling up around his winter boots. Charles rises from his couch to greet Dylan. Hey, buddy. Long time, no see.

Bryan gives his son a hug and a kiss on his head, rubbing Dylan’s shaggy black hair. You remember Charles? He’s daddy’s best friend since we were your age, in the 3rd grade.

Dylan looks up at Charles, his dark eyes standing out against his ivory skin. He gives a quick wave, Hey, he says, before immediately turning back to his father. Is he staying here forever?

As long as he needs. Bryan replies.

With a shake of his head, Dylan looks down at his feet. Great. He doesn’t have anywhere else to live?

Bryan sighs, messing with his hair before giving him a light pat on the butt, sending him up the steps. Say bye to Charles.

Bye Charles, the boy says stumping back upstairs.

Cute kid. He’s practically a mini adult.

I’m sorry, dude. Dylan’s such a great kid. He’s an only child, which means he can be controlling at times.

It’s okay. Hopefully I’ll be back home in no time. Thanks for providing me with your space.

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