The Gardens of Digby Green: Splotch
Before the traffic light turned green, Ray tore open one of the bags of chips. The warm interior soon intensified the mingling scents of an Italian meatball sub, and genuine Texas BBQ potato chips. Rose would have gagged. Ray sighed. “I’ll air the car out, sweetheart. I promise. I miss you so.”
He took a quick glance out the passenger window, then the driver’s side. Had someone noticed? Chuckling, he shook the paranoia off. For all anyone in another lane knew, he was using Bluetooth to talk on his phone. Ray thumbed his phone screen, and chose a voicemail to replay.
“Sweetheart, I’m so excited.”
Her voice came through so realistically that Ray choked up.
“The high school homecoming committee has asked me to provide all the table centerpieces, and corsages and boutonnières for the homecoming court. Their school colors will be quite a challenge.”
He heard her tsk of disbelief.
“Purple and orange. Our class colors were so much nicer.”
The traffic light changed. Ray quickly squeezed tears from his eyes with his forefinger and thumb before accelerating toward the westbound on-ramp. He couldn’t lose sight of Green’s pickup truck. The guy’s lead foot tendency continued, and Ray had to step on it, until he could settle into a relatively stable position three vehicles back.
There wouldn’t be another off ramp for a few miles, so Ray reached for his sandwich. Its dominant seasoning was salt, which he should’ve been able to predict. His second bite let a blob of tomato-based sauce land not far from his belt buckle. Setting the sub aside, he blotted the splotch, which only spread it wider. Would the water in his bottle help? He bent and groped for the door pocket.
Behind him, a driver honked. Ray steered into his own lane again, then glanced around for a cop. He didn’t need to be pulled over.
The Eagles’ song reverberating around the truck cab wasn’t helping Digby relax. In fact his usual pressures were building. Gotta hold it in, stick to the plan for another day or so. He could do that, but it used to be easier. Before the two rose gardens in one town.
He accelerated. Crossing the Illinois border should help him shift down from rage to anticipation. Missus FloRa Woodbine, of Woodbine, Iowa, was nearer than she had been this morning. Keep to the plan.
The Gardens of Digby Green is a serialized story that posts on Fridays.
Check back for installment fifty-eight…
Find a link to purchase Heartland Treasures anthology here.
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