Crossroads: Book 1

Chapter 3

Three Months Later:

Elena

The whistle of the wind and the thuds of rain are hitting the windshield, drowning out the radio station that my dad insists on listening to. I try to ignore the noises while consuming myself with my thoughts. Everything I have ever known is being left behind. Sadness wouldn't be the word I would describe how I'm feeling; all of this was my idea. The idea of traveling so far away never crossed my mind until now.

"Aw, come on!" Dad shouts at the radio, jolting me out of my thoughts. The ref in the Detroit Lions game must have made a bad call.

"That should have counted!" Looking over at me, he apologizes for his outburst. I smile at him. His dark brown hair is beginning to pepper with grey and white, his skin is pale with a dark mustache, and his deep brown eyes can tell a story all on their own. Has he always had those tiny crow-feet wrinkles by his eyes? He notices me smiling at him, and he laughs. The laughter is something to be reckoned with- it's cavernous, loud, obnoxious, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I don't know where I would be without this man. That's why we're doing this, I remind myself as we pass the "Welcome to Ohio" sign.

We are moving. My dad has been a police officer for nearly my whole life until recently – now he's a transferring lead detective. He hasn't always been a man of the law. Dad has done some questionable things in his younger years, but he cleaned up, swore that it made him a better man and father because of it.

"Are you excited at all about going back to Georgia?" I ask. "I know it's been a while, except for coming here for interviews."

He looks over at me before facing the road again. "Yeah, sure. I just hope I can still remember my way around," he teases with his faint southern accent.

"Uhm." He looks at me again with those dark pools of secretive eyes. "How come you never went back to stay until now?" We never went into the details of his past. Whenever I have tried to get information from him, he'd power down or make an excuse to leave the room. It always made me wonder just what kinds of things he has done that makes him feel so ashamed to the point where he doesn't want to share anything.

My dad seems to be caught off guard since his grip tightens on the steering wheel; his skull tattoo peeks out from under his rolled-up coat sleeve. He shrugs, making the winter coat chaff. "I-I'm... not sure. I guess the opportunity never really came up," he stutters. That is the extent of how the conversations go about Georgia. The state seems to be the only entity on this earth that knows the whole story of the mystery that is my dad.

All I know about my dad's past is that he is from the land of peaches. He's been in jail a time or two. He met my mom at the University of Georgia, where she had an academic scholarship. They saw each other and instantly fell in love. He had to give some things up to follow her back to the mitten state when he was twenty-four years old.

As we push further through Ohio's countryside towards Kentucky, the last six years of my life begin to flash before me. He made a point to make every ballet performance, piano recital, and band concert. My parents did the best they could to be involved with my life, to watch me grow. A twinge of sadness scratches deep in my chest at the memory of my mother, wishing she was still here.

Multitasking is a skill - a skill my dad has mastered. Since my mom passed, he did what he could to be my dad, mom, and best friend. Once a month on a Saturday night, we would have a daddy-daughter date night; we would go to dinner and see a movie. I hold those preciously to my heart since I haven't had much of a social life.

Whenever I did go out, it was either with my dad or Rachel.

A smile comes upon my face remembering my dearest friend. "Rachel had promised me that she would visit – do you think she could come to visit over Christmas break?" I ask, hoping she can. Unlike me, she is very sassy, dramatic, and just full of life.

"Yeah, I don't see why not. I wouldn't mind paying for Rachel's plane ticket so she can come, I know money is tight for them right now." Dad smiles at me. He is so thoughtful. Rachel means so much to me, and he knows it.

"I'm sorry this move is forcing you two apart," dad apologizes, his eyes are solemn.

I touch his arm. "It's okay. Rachel has and always will be my best friend. No amount of distance will change that," I give him a warm smile for good measure.

*****

The city lights illuminate the night sky over Louisville. The scenery brings me to the memory that haunts me every day: Dad was shot during a drug bust five months ago in the city of Detroit. It was enough for him to have to spend the night in the hospital with the surgeon removing the bullets from the right side of his chest cavity. I begged him to look for another job in a safer place, so maybe the constant ache of worry on whether he'd come home or not may loosen its hold on me. Losing Mom was hard enough. I can't lose my dad, too.

My birthday is in two weeks. I'll be eighteen. So, I guess that will make me a legal adult, but that doesn't mean that I want to do it all alone. I don't know what I would do if I ever lost my dad. I didn't realize I was picking at my nails until I ripped the nail on my pinky too deep. A slight shooting pain surges my arm causing me to jump out of my worst thought of almost losing my him.

A raspy tired voice steals my attention, and I suddenly realized how quiet it had been in the cab of this U-Haul van. "Hey, kiddo – I'm sorry that I couldn't find a place in Michigan, but you'll like it in Georgia – I know it will be tough at first, but soon, all be okay."

Looking over at him, I see that his deep dark eyes are melancholy, and it hurts my heart, so I tell him, "It's okay. I'm just glad that we'll be in a safer place for the kind of work you do. I'm thankful that you agreed to transfer. Besides, it will be fun for me to see the state you grew up in." I ended with a sincere smile then nudge his arm. He nods his head and smiles at me, then brings his focus back to the road.

I didn't think we would ever move to Ludowici, Georgia. Apparently, it is a quiet little town not too far from the Atlantic Ocean. I have never seen the ocean before, nor have I been outside of Michigan. There is no denying that there is a bit of excitement bubbling my nerves for this new adventure. Leaving Detroit behind is overwhelming; I will miss Rachel and the home I grew up in; however, if it means that my dad may be safer because of it, then maybe I'll be okay...