The big rig pulled away from the truck stop, Rose and Daffodil inside. Both were hunched down so that no one would see them and know that the driver was taking riders, but once they reached the freeway, they sat up. Few people would pay attention to who was in the cab on the open road.
Daffodil glowered at Rose at first as the truck took them back in the direction they had come, covering the distance it had taken them two days to travel in only an hour. She, even more than Rose, had grown tired of traveling in the desert in the summer, and had been looking forward to the slightly cooler climate to the west. Now, for some reason she couldn’t fathom, Rose wanted to go to Reno, Nevada, farther east than they could have traveled on foot.
Rose just looked out the window, ignoring Daffodil and offering no explanation for her sudden change of heart, other than wanting to avoid seeing the extensive earthquake damage to the west. She couldn’t really define for herself why she wanted to leave California. It hadn’t even occurred to her to do so until the driver had said she was going to Reno, but once Rose had heard her destination, she knew that she wanted to go there, too.
The driver glanced at the two women sitting in sullen silence, pointedly ignoring each other. Whatever problem they had, she didn’t want to get involved, but she also didn’t want to make the trip with two silent, angry people. She knew from experience that such a situation could rapidly be blown out of proportion by the boredom of a long trip on the endless, open road, a small disagreement taking on great importance because there was nothing else to occupy the minds of those disagreeing.
"Why are you heading to Reno?" she asked, looking quickly at them.
Daffodil shrugged. "Don’t ask me. It was her idea."
"I felt like it," Rose retorted. "Anyway, Reno is as good a place as any."
"You just can’t face your past."
"I can face anything I want."
"Ha! You’re a coward, Rose. Don’t deny it."
"I am not a coward! A coward could never do what I’ve done. You just think you’re so high and mighty because you’ve been doing whatever you want all this time and I’m just learning to live for myself. You’re a leech on society."
"Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?"
"Just what are you trying to say, exactly?"
"I’m saying—"
"That’s enough!" Both women jumped as the driver raised her voice. "Remember what I said about causing trouble? We’re about to enter Palm Desert. You can either stop this right now, or I’ll drop you off there."
"No!" Rose had no intention of stopping in Palm Desert.
"Then I suggest you stop sniping at each other and find something else to occupy yourselves."
Rose and Daffodil glared at each other, then looked away, turning their attention to the vast desert landscape. Rose stared out her window, sighing in relief when they had passed Palm Desert.
As they approached Indio, the driver broke the silence. "By the way, I’m Henrietta Moore. Most people call me Henrie."
Rose looked away from the window. "What? Oh…I’m Rose." She nudged Daffodil, reminding her of her manners.
Daffodil looked at her in irritation for a moment, then mumbled, "Daffodil."
"What?" Henrie looked her at her, not sure she had heard right.
"My name is Daffodil. What of it?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to know your name."
"It’s no weirder than Henrie." Daffodil stared ahead, her gaze fixed on the road. Half of her irritation with Rose, and Henrie, and the world in general, stemmed from being overtired. She and Rose had traveled a long way in the past two days, without much rest in their eagerness to get out of the desert, and she didn’t like seeing all their hard work being swept away.
She turned to glare at Rose, blaming her for their current state, only to see that the long days of travel had caught up to her, too. Lulled by the warmth of the sun, the motion of the truck, and hypnotizing sight of the road spreading out before them endlessly, Rose had fallen asleep, slumped against the seat, her mouth slightly open.
Daffodil glared at her, irritated that Rose would fall asleep and leave herself at the mercy of someone she didn’t know. It was never a good idea for a hitchhiker to fall asleep. God only knew where they might end up.
She glanced at Henrie, who looked relieved that the arguing had stopped, and then leaned back against the seat. At least I have enough sense not to fall asleep, she thought. I don’t care how tired I am. I’m not going to put myself in danger like she is. Rose has no sense at all. I’m not going to fall asleep. I’m not…
*****
"Are you two hungry, or are you just going to sleep all night?"
Rose opened her eyes slowly, aware of a weight leaning against her, and saw Henrie looking at her with the door open. They were at another truck stop, this one with a small diner.
Trying to sit up, she saw what the weight was—Daffodil was sound asleep, slumped comfortably against her. Rose shook her.
"Daffodil, wake up."
"Hmm." Daffodil went right on sleeping.
"Daffodil, wake up! I want to get up!"
Daffodil opened one eye and looked her, then closed it again. A moment later, she bolted upright.
"I was not sleeping!" she announced loudly, earning guffaws from both Rose and Henrie. "I wasn’t!" she insisted.
"Whatever you say," Rose told her, trying not to laugh. She opened the door and got out. Daffodil fell over on the seat.
"Dammit, Rose…"
"Are you two coming or not?"
"We’re coming," Daffodil grumbled, sitting up. "We’re coming."
The two women followed Henrie into the diner, then immediately turned to leave again when they saw the prices—not horribly high, but more than they could easily afford.
"Sit down," Henrie told them, as Rose and Daffodil started to slide out of the booth. "I’ll buy you dinner. Just get yourselves some hamburgers or something."
"Oh, we couldn’t—" Rose started, but Henrie interrupted her.
"Here’s a bit of advice for you. Life can be tough on the road, especially if you’re a drifter. Your money and your supplies never stretch as far as you think they will. Never pass up a free meal."
Rose opened her mouth to object, but Daffodil kicked her under the table. Rose could eat travel food if she wanted, but Daffodil hadn’t had a hot meal in quite a while, and wasn’t about to pass up this generous offer.
Rose gave her a dirty look, then sighed. "Okay. Thank you."
When the food arrived, both Rose and Daffodil dug into it as though afraid that it would disappear, both hungrier than they cared to admit. When the waitress dropped the check on the table, Daffodil offered to pay part of it, encouraged by Rose kicking her under the table, but Henrie refused.
"That’s why I charged you for the ride," she told them. "To offset the cost of feeding you."
"Oh. Okay." Relieved, Rose followed Daffodil into the restroom.
"God spare us from ethical people," Daffodil remarked as they were washing up.
"What?"
"You. You’re much too ethical. Offering to pay for a free meal."
"She wouldn’t let us."
"Still…ethics and survival don’t always go together."
"They aren’t exactly separate, either," Rose responded. "What is your problem today? You’re usually a lot nicer than this."
"Nothing. Just call it PMS."
"Bullshit. That’s not the problem, and you know it."
"And when did you get so wise?"
"It’s called intuition."
"It’s called—"
"Let’s just drop it, okay? We’ve got a long ways to go, and I don’t want to fight with you all the way there. Besides, I don’t think Henrie will tolerate it."
"Fine."
"Fine."
They headed back outside, getting back into the cab as Henrie was getting ready to leave.
"I was beginning to think you’d decided to stay here. Duck down until we get back on the road. It’s still light out."
Complying, Rose and Daffodil ducked out of sight, Daffodil at the window this time. When they were on the road again, they sat up, watching it grow darker ahead of them as they headed east.
Wide awake now, and bored, Daffodil hummed under her breath, still too annoyed with Rose to talk to her, and not wanting to disturb Henrie by making idle conversation.
Rose heard her. "I know that song!" she exclaimed, listening to Daffodil hum softly. She sang a few lines.
On the road again
I just can’t wait to get on the road again…
"That’s appropriate," Henrie remarked, listening to her sing.
Rose sang a few more lines, then stopped. "That’s all I remember," she confessed.
"How about this one?" Daffodil asked, forgetting her irritation in favor of the prospect of a good sing-along.
I saw Adam leave the garden
With an apple in his hand
I said now you’re out
What are you gonna do?
Plant my crops and pray for rain
Maybe raise a little Cain
I’m an orphan now
I’m only passing through.
Rose and Henrie winced at the sound of Daffodil’s voice, but she was unperturbed.
"Remember? We sang it on the Fourth of July in Cuyamaca."
Rose nodded, remembering. She joined in, trying to sing loud enough to drown Daffodil out.
They continued singing, going through several songs, Rose sometimes stumbling over the words. When they paused for a drink of water, Henrie, relieved at the silence, interjected her thoughts.
"Are you a street performer, or struggling musician? You’re pretty good." She directed the comment at Rose, trying to find a diplomatic way to avoid commenting on Daffodil’s lack of singing ability.
"Well, we try," Rose told her, not willing to leave Daffodil out, even though she wished that her friend wouldn’t try to sing. "We kind of do whatever comes along—within reason, of course."
"That’s good to hear, but I mean what I say. You’re good. You might be able to go somewhere with your voice."
"Rose could, maybe," Daffodil interjected. "I have a limited vocal range."
Rose stared at her, surprised that Daffodil was finally admitting to her inability to sing, though she felt that Daffodil’s problem was more than just limited vocal range.
"I know a man in LA who might just be able to help her. I’ll give you two his number before I drop you off. Just tell him Henrie sent you."
"Well, we’ll keep that in mind…if we ever go to LA," Daffodil told her. "I can’t say for sure where we’ll head after this. Wherever the wind takes us, I guess."
Rose glanced at her, startled. It sounded remarkably like something Jack had once said to her, that he was ‘just a tumbleweed blowing in the wind’. Pushing the thought away, she began another song, this one more popular.
Every night in my dreams
I see you, I feel you
That is how I know you go on
Far across the distance
And space between us
You have come to show you go on.
She wiped her eyes, grateful for the darkness that hid the sudden rush of tears. Daffodil joined in, distracting her from her melancholy thoughts.
"That’s such a beautiful song," Daffodil sighed when they finished it. "You may not be Celine Dion, but it’s still a beautiful song."
Rose nodded, not trusting herself to speak. For some reason, the song had brought on a flood of memories of Jack and the time they had spent together. She leaned back against the seat, finally trusting her voice enough to agree.
"Yes, it is." She sighed, not wanting to say more.
Jack, can you see what I’m doing now, what my life is like? I’m making each day count, just like you did, and I’m not giving up. I may have let Cal get away with murdering you, but it was the only way to set myself free. I love you, and I miss you, but I am going on with life—and enjoying it, too. We should have enjoyed life together, but it wasn’t meant to be, and I’m making the most of this journey of one that my life has become, and I always will.
Just like I promised.