Circle City Blues

What are people saying about Circle City Blues?

…Bennett’s writing is laugh out loud funny. I have to confess that I was very taken with this novel… – Libdrone Book Reviews

[T]his book…grabs you and doesn't let you go. – Guerra, Amazon.com

A pleasant mix of romance and this trucker's life style without over emphasizing either one! – Janet Brown, Amazon.com

Susan Bennett has a pleasant, easy-going style and her characters are well portrayed. – Beeshon, Amazon.com

This is not a heavy book, it is not a sad book, it is a deftly written look at loss and recovery. – E. Edwards, Amazon.com

Ms Bennett knows how to make the words flow and engage the reader. – Alex Canton-Dutari, Smashwords.com

Circle City Blues

by

Susan Wells Bennett

Smashwords Edition

PUBLISHED BY:

Inknbeans Press

© 2012 Susan Wells Bennett and

Inknbeans Press

Cover: Nikki McBroom

Tridentartanddesign@weebly.com

Circle City Blues

© 2010 Susan Wells Bennett

© 2011 Susan Wells Bennett and Inknbeans Press

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

This book is dedicated to my husband, Daniel Bennett, who has been a constant source of support, inspiration, and love. He is the reason I write.

Piazza Piece

—I am a gentleman in a dust coat trying

To make you hear. Your ears are soft and small

And listen to an old man not at all,

They want the young men’s whispering and sighing.

But see the roses on your trellis dying

And hear the spectral singing of the moon;

For I must have my lovely lady soon,

I am a gentleman in a dust coat trying.

—I am a lady young in beauty waiting

Until my true love comes, and then we kiss.

But what gray man among the vines is this

Whose words are dry and faint as in a dream?

Back from my trellis, sir, before I scream!

I am a lady young in beauty waiting.

— John Crowe Ransom

STEP ONE – Shock and Denial

I’ve decided to leave you, Kirsten announced. We were rolling down the highway at sixty-five miles an hour, a trailer full of miniskirts and leather jackets latched onto our deluxe truck – the one she had insisted we buy so that we could have more than a bunk in back during the long hauls.

Leave me where? I asked. Just the thought was confusing – there were no towns nearby. Besides, we were team drivers, which meant that we drove in shifts – always moving. One of us staying behind was impossible.

Not where, you idiot. I’m leaving you for Kent.

Kent who?

Sir Kent…you know, the guild leader. She turned her computer to face me and I saw the buff, tanned avatar of our Guild Wars guild leader. In the shadowed text box appeared the words, Did you tell him yet?

Car! Kirsten shouted, and I simultaneously wrenched the wheel to the right and pulled my eyes away from the screen. We’ve been dating for a while now.

What? How? She hadn’t been out of my sight for more than a year.

She shrugged. We meet in the guild hall and chat. We’ve got so much in common.

And we don’t? What about our truck?

That’s all we’ve got in common these days, Mac.

Trucking was Kirsten’s big idea. We both had normal jobs and an apartment in Phoenix when she decided that what was wrong with our marriage was that we didn’t spend enough time together.

Let’s go to trucking school! she enthused. We can be on the road in a couple months!

But Kirsten, we have good jobs. Have you even noticed the rising unemployment rate?

She was sulking. I hate my job, Mac. You know that.

I was working as an escrow officer for a national title company. The company had recently given me my own branch in Surprise, Arizona, and every day I got to sit in a fairly plush office and alternately review paperwork and entertain clients. It was a sweet gig.

Kirsten, however, was not quite so lucky. Don’t get me wrong – she had a good job. She was in charge of security at a mall. She’d been promoted to the top spot when her predecessor was caught fondling the mannequins in the Lane Bryant. It was an image she’d had a hard time getting out of her head. Sometimes, she woke up screaming and all she could say was Fat plastic! The first few times she had the dream, I thought she was screaming Fantastic! and I was a little jealous.

Being a security guard kept her in good shape; even though she was in her mid-twenties, she still fit into her high school cheerleading outfit quite well. The night she suggested we become truckers, I’d just ripped it off her – so I was definitely in a position to know. I looked over at her reclining tanned figure and felt the blood leaving my brain again. Before it could fully retreat, I pulled my eyes away and thought about baseball. You don’t have to work, baby. I make more than enough for both of us. Why don’t you go back to college?

She exhaled harshly. You never listen to me! I’m trying to save our marriage here!

I hadn’t actually noticed that there was anything at all wrong with our marriage, and that made me a little nervous. Listen, honey, we’ve got a lot of money saved now – nearly sixty-thousand dollars. Why don’t you start looking for a house? Justin could help you…he’s a great agent.

I don’t want my brother to help me find a house, she whined. I don’t even want a house! Why do we have to pin ourselves down to the valley?

I made the mistake of glancing over at her again and my brain lost the battle for blood flow. Okay, I said as I rolled toward her, We’ll look into trucking school.

After more than a year on the road, trapped within the same fifty square feet twenty-four hours a day, my brain really didn’t have to put up much of a fight to keep the blood supply where it belonged. As it turned out, Kirsten wouldn’t know a healthy food choice if it bit her on her now rather substantial ass. Does Sir Kent know what you really look like? I asked, my eyes lingering on her form.

He has a picture, she answered, turning the laptop to face her again.

Really? There’s a camera with a wide enough angle to capture you?

She harrumphed and started typing a reply to Sir Kent while I chortled softly.

My name isn’t really Mac. It’s actually Declan, this extremely Irish name that my mother found in a baby book back when she thought my father was Irish. As it turns out, MacDougall is Scottish – something I wish she’d thought to ask him before she saddled me with my shitty name. No one in Arizona could ever pronounce it right the first time, because no one had ever seen it before. Therefore, I chose to call myself Mac.

I am the first son in a family of four children. My parents, Pam and Mike MacDougall, married right after graduating from Peoria High School. My father went to work on the family farms, which included orange groves and cotton fields. As Phoenix grew, selling the land became a more profitable proposition than farming it. By the time I graduated from high school, my family had sold all of its agricultural holdings in the valley. The farmhouse where I grew up has since been razed and replaced with a tract home in a subdivision called Surprise Farms. As in, Surprise! You can never go home again! Dad and Mom bought land out in Tonopah, but only ten acres. Dad is done with serious farming at this point. After my youngest brother Paul started college, they bought a trailer and started taking long driving trips.

My father told me to go into the military – he said it would toughen me up and make me into a real man. But, like most first sons, I was disinclined to follow my father’s advice. I went to college instead.

When I was a kid, we didn’t have a neighbor within the better part of a mile. My best friend all the way through school was Justin Case. He was as short as I was tall, a compact, almost neck-less guy with a quick sense of humor – an asset when your parents commit the social faux pas of saddling you with a name like Justin Case. Kirsten is his younger sister, and, genetically speaking, a horse of a different color. She was three years behind us in school and I had a crush on her from my junior year of high school on. Up until then, she’d just been Kirsten, Justin’s little sister. Over the summer between my sophomore and junior years of high school, though, she suddenly became Kirsten, Perky Goddess of All Dreams Sexual.

And, of course, she was way out of my league, because, let’s face it, I was a nerd – and not one of those cool computer geek nerds, either. No, I was one of a subset of nerds – the Dungeons-and-Dragons cape- wearing type. Now, you really need to understand that D&D nerds are the most artistic of the nerd subsets. I spent hours drawing incredible scenes with dragons, swords, and Kirsten dressed in tiny costumes that fed my obsession. It wasn’t hard to picture her like that – she was a cheerleader, after all. All I had to do was go to a game and observe her in her skimpy green-and-gold cheer outfit.

And what do skinny nerds grow up to be? In my case, much better looking than I ever could have hoped. I had what Justin described as an honest face – large oval eyes set a little wider than perfection, a strong jaw, and a perpetual smile that I had to actually concentrate on in order to suppress.

What are you smiling about? Kirsten snapped from the bunk behind me.

Nothing at all, I answered, pleased that my relaxed expression unnerved her.

Kent knows where we are. Don’t get any funny ideas.

Astounding. We’d been married for more than five years and she actually thought I had the capacity to do her harm. You’re safe enough with me. Tell Sir Kent to put his horse back in the stable.

Stop calling him that.

What? Sir Kent? I lifted one corner of my mouth in a smirk.

His name is Kent. Just Kent. She huffed, then frowned. Aren’t you mad?

At the moment, no. Check with me when I’ve had more time to process this.

I’m really leaving, she said stridently. I’m not kidding about this.

I get that.

You’re just in denial.

No. I’m really not. I ran one hand through my hair, raking back my unruly black locks. Damn, I needed a haircut. Where am I dropping you, Kirsten of the Briars? I assume you told me today because we’re close to Sir Kent’s stomping grounds?

She seethed at my use of her Guild Wars name. Stop. Doing. That.

Where am I dropping you? I repeated calmly.

He’s in Indianapolis.

I laughed.

What?

You’re bored with our life so you’re going to join your lover in the exciting town of Indianapolis?

She launched herself back into the passenger-side captain’s chair. It’s not like that. There, she said, pointing at a truck stop. Let’s get some lunch.

Out of habit, I obeyed her command, and then cursed myself for being as pliable as silly putty in her hands even after her announcement.

She hopped out of the truck ahead of me and I got a good look at her back end. It was starting to resemble ocean waves when she walked – it swayed from side to side like the tide rolling in and out on the beach.

Despite what you may be thinking right now, I didn’t marry Kirsten for her looks. I won’t deny that they played a part, but keep in mind that I’d known Kirsten since she was a little girl. She had a great sense of humor and a playful demeanor. She was the queen of the Case household almost from the moment she was born, at least according to Justin. Even when the social constructs of high school commanded that she keep her distance from her brother and me, she still smiled and waved at us when we passed in the halls.

Sometimes when I’d visit Justin, she’d make her way back to his room and settle in next to me as we explored the map of an imagined world. She never touched me, but she sat so close that I could feel the heat of her thigh radiating toward mine. And she had this laugh that could melt ice – sort of husky and deep and knowing, especially for a girl three years my junior.

When my parents threw a graduation barbecue for Justin and me, Kirsten showed up and mingled with the nerds and nerdettes in attendance, gliding among them like a goddess among the heathen throng. Hey, she said, waving briefly before stuffing her hands in her back pockets.

Hey. Thanks for coming. I was eighteen and still gangly and awkward in my newly lengthened frame. At least my acne had finally cleared up.

She smiled. Thanks for the invite. Wanna take a walk?

I glanced around. I’m not sure where Justin is…

No. Just us. Wanna walk?

I gulped down my surprise and managed to croak, Sure. We headed out across the field that surrounded my parents’ farmhouse.

So, what’s next for you? she asked, resting her hand against the inside of my elbow.

C-c-college, I stuttered. Regaining my confidence, I said, I’ve got a full scholarship to ASU.

You’re so smart, she cooed.

Not really.

We walked in silence, her hand still on my arm. We were so far from the party that the music sounded tinny and the moon glowed stronger than the lights my mother had strung around the lawn. We stopped and she turned to look at me. I didn’t know what to get you for graduation, she said.

That’s okay, Kirsten. I don’t need a present from you.

Justin suggested I give you this. She slipped her hand behind my neck and bent me forward, standing on her tiptoes. Her lips brushed against mine and stopped time and my breath at the same moment. Then it was over and she pulled away, giggling. Happy graduation, Mac, she called over her shoulder as she ran back to the party.

I shook away the memory as I slid into the booth across from her in the diner. Her face looked the same as it always had. I tried to mentally picture the ugliness of her character laid over that mask of beauty, but it wasn’t possible. What did I do wrong? I asked, the question escaping me before I could grasp it by the neck and choke the life from it.

Nothing, she answered quickly. Well, nothing you could have done differently, she amended. I just…I always thought my life would be more exciting – more romantic.

I laughed. How much more romantic could I have been? I changed the course of my life for her – abandoned my career, my family, my future – because she was bored. And what can Sir Kent offer you?

She grimaced, then smiled smugly. He reads me poetry. He says we’ll go all over the world together during the summer. He’s a teacher. We’ll be able to travel three months of the year.

He’s a gym teacher, I amended. I couldn’t believe that the one guy I’d thought was relatively normal on that stupid game had stolen my wife. He and I had run several missions together in the last few months. I thought we’d bonded: two former D&D subset nerds finding friendship on the internet.

So? she said defensively. You’re a truck driver.

I closed my eyes and snorted.

She recognized my frustration. Oh, come on, Mac…you were just as desperate to escape Phoenix as I was. You were bored, too.

It was an old argument by now. In less than one month on the road, Kirsten came to understand that truck driving wasn’t the escape she’d been craving. She hadn’t realized that there wouldn’t be time for us to explore the cities we drove through. We’d seen the East Coast and the West Coast within that month – as we drove past them at sixty-five miles per hour. She’d wanted to abandon the plan – but we’d already spent our entire savings on the down payment for the deluxe truck that was our new home. I ran my fingers through my hair again. I changed the subject. Did you notice – is there a barber at this truck stop?

She sighed deeply and signaled the bored-looking waitress over. I’ll have a grilled cheese with fries and a Coke.

We only serve Pepsi products, the waitress said, pointing at the prominent Pepsi logo in the window.

Fine, a Pepsi then.

I’ll have a salad, I said, cocking a knowing eyebrow and smirking at Kirsten. I’ve got to watch my figure.

The waitress smiled at me with interest now. I don’t know, mac…your figure looks pretty good to me. She winked flirtatiously.

You must be a mind reader – I glanced at her tag – Belinda. How’d you know my name was Mac?

Before Belinda could respond, Kirsten cut in. That’s enough chatter with the benchwarmer, Mac. Kirsten and I called all truck-stop women benchwarmers – it didn’t matter if they were waitresses or lot lizards. Sometimes they were one and the same. Just get the food, please, she said pointedly to Belinda.

After she walked away, I said, She’s gonna spit in your sandwich, knowing the thought would drive her nuts.

Damn it! she cursed. Why do you have to do that?

What? I asked innocently.

Flirt with them!

What possible difference could it make to you? Sir Kent is a mere two hours away. You’ll be off to your happily-ever-after castle soon. By the way, how big do you suppose his castle is? I mean, on the salary of a gym teacher…

I saw Kirsten’s eyes widen as I spoke, and I thought I was getting to her. Then she smiled and slid out of the booth and I heard a familiar voice say, Hey, girl…don’t you look fabulous!

I turned and saw Steve and Adam, a trucking team that we seemed to run into at least once a month through some weird quirk in the universe. When we’d first met them, Adam, a slender guy with spike hair and a large variety of scarves, had introduced himself and his partner as Adam and Steve, as in ‘God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.’ I could never forget their names after that. Steve, the taller of the two, was looking buff and tanned in his sleeveless denim shirt. With today’s white scarf wrapped around his neck to offset his brightly patterned shirt, Adam hugged Kirsten. I stood and stuck my hand out to shake Steve’s.

We saw the MacDougall rig from the high way, Adam gushed, and I said, ‘Steve, if you love me, you’ll take me to lunch right now!’ And here we are! He stepped back and surveyed Kirsten at arm’s length. Girl, I think you’ve lost some weight! Very nice!

I snorted loudly and sat back down.

Adam gave me an irritated glance, pressing his lips together.

Steve slipped into the booth across from me and rested his arm easily against the padded top of the booth. Good to see you, man, he said. His appearance always reminded me of a 70s cigarette shill or maybe a porn star, but he was a good guy.

You too. How’s the road been treating you?

Not too bad. We’re on our way to Music Town right now. You?

Next stop, Circle City.

Adam settled in next to Steve, and Steve wrapped his arm around him and gave him a squeeze. Kirsten pushed in next to me, as irritated by having to touch me as I was at being touched.

The waitress, Belinda, reluctantly came back to our table, smiling only at me. What’ll it be, boys?

Adam frowned and dropped his head onto his upturned hand. Goodness…I’m not sure yet. Steve?

I’ll have the liver and onions.

Adam made a horrified face and said, And a bottle of mouthwash on the way out! I don’t know how you can eat that.

Steve half-smiled. It’s full of vitamins. Makes me strong, he laughed, squeezing Adam’s shoulder again.

Ooh! So that’s the secret! Adam squealed.

Belinda winced uncomfortably at the scene. Have you made your decision, honey? she asked Adam.

Oh, I’ll have a salad. Gotta watch my girlish figure, you know, he said, winking at her.

I think I actually heard her eyes roll as she walked away from the table.

So, girl, let’s hear the dish. What’s happening? Adam asked.

Kirsten glanced at me and bit her lip.

It’s okay, I said. You can tell them.

Oh, no. Adam’s face crumpled. Don’t tell me that…I’ll never see you again!

Kirsten reached across the table and put her hand over Adam’s. No…of course not. You’ll always be welcome in my home.

But I hate children. All that screaming and the bad smells… He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

What children? Kirsten and I asked in unison.

Exasperated, Adam said, Yours, of course!

Kirsten giggled uncomfortably. No, I’m afraid not. You see, I’m leaving Mac.

Adam sat back in stunned silence for the first time since I’d met him. Steve said, I’m sorry to hear that, man.

Thanks.

I’ve…met someone else…online. She struggled with the words much more than she had when she’d told me a few hours earlier. I guess it was harder to disappoint a girlfriend than a husband.

No, Adam breathed.

Yes, I countered. I’m dropping her at Sir Kent’s today.

Sir Kent? Steve questioned, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

I told you to stop that, Kirsten hissed.

Belinda arrived with our food and we stopped talking to each other for a few moments, instead expressing our thanks to the waitress. Can I get y’all anything else? She was looking at me specifically.

Look, Belinda, Kirsten spat, he doesn’t need a benchwarmer today. Maybe next time, ‘kay?

Oooh, girl… Adam said as Belinda walked away. I bet she’d like to spit in your food.

Kirsten frowned and looked at her sandwich suspiciously.

Sir Kent? Steve asked again, trying to guide the conversation back to the subject at hand.

His name is Kent Sawicki. Sir Kent is his Guild Wars name.

Adam looked skeptical. You’re leaving this hunk of burning love for an avatar? He pointedly scraped my body with his eyes, indicating that he thought she was nuts.

She pushed the sandwich away and concentrated on the french fries. Mac doesn’t understand me.

How trite, Adam said, rolling his eyes. Steve and I focused on our meals as Adam and Kirsten picked at theirs.

What? He doesn’t!

Oh, come on, girl…get over yourself. No man will ever understand you. There’s a fundamental difference between you and every other person of the opposite sex, and there’s no way to get around it. The whole point of your silly breeder relationships is that you manage to work around the differences because you love each other.

I don’t love him, she said softly. I don’t think I ever did.

Okay, damn it. I’m right here, Kirsten! Right the hell here! You can’t lie about this. I dropped my fork onto my plate.

I’m sorry, she said, turning to look at me. "I think I was just scared. You’ve always been so safe. I could always count on you to be there, and you never stopped loving me. Not