Archer's Voice(88)

Jordan shrugged and glanced in the rearview mirror at me. "He looked at me like he was wondering what my ulterior motives were. But I just showed him how to use it and left." He shrugged again like it was no big deal.

"I love you Jordan Scott," I said, leaning forward and kissing him lightly on his cheek.

"I know you do," he said, grinning at me in the mirror again. "And getting laid by hot blondes puts me in a generous mood so there you go."

I laughed, sniffling and bringing my phone up again.



Me: I hope not because I started missing you before I even left. We're about twenty minutes outside of town. What are you doing?



I waited about a minute before his next message came through.



Archer: Reading. It just started raining outside. Hopefully you're moving away from it.



Me: I think so. Skies look clear ahead. Wish I was cuddled up with you. What are you reading?



Archer: Wish you were too. But what you're doing is important. I'm reading Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton. Have you read it?



Me: No. Is it good?



Archer: Yeah. Well, no. It's well written, but it's probably one of the most depressing books of all time.



Me: Lol. So you've read it before? Why read it again if it's depressing? What's it about?



Archer: What's lol?



I paused and smiled, realizing this was Archer's very first time texting. Of course he didn't know what lol meant.



Me: Laugh out loud. Text lingo.



Archer: Oh, okay. I'm not sure why I picked this book up today. My uncle seemed to like it. It's about a miserable man in a loveless marriage who falls in love with his wife's cousin and they try to commit suicide to be together, but only end up broken and paralyzed and still miserable.



Me: Oh God! That's… that's awful! Put the depressing book down, Archer Hale!



Archer: Lol.



I laughed out loud for real when I saw his reply. "Keep it down back there," Natalie grumped, keeping her eyes closed, but smiling slightly as she turned her head on her seat back. My phone dinged softly again, indicating another text from Archer.



Archer: No, really, it's about isolation and a girl who represents happiness for a man who's never had any. I guess I can relate to some of the themes.



I swallowed heavily, my heart squeezing for the man I loved.



Me: I love you, Archer.



Archer: I love you too, Bree.



Me: Pulling into a gas station. Text you in a bit.



Archer: Okay.





**********





Me: What's on your happy list?



Archer: What's a happy list?



Me: Just a short list of a few, simple things that make you happy.



My phone remained quiet for a few minutes before it finally dinged.



Archer: The smell of the earth after it rains, the feeling of falling asleep, the small freckle on the inside of your right thigh. What's on your happy list?



I smiled and leaned my head back on the seat.



Me: Summer evenings, when the clouds part and a ray of golden light suddenly breaks through, knowing you're mine.



Archer: Always.



I leaned back on the seat again, a small dreamy smile on my face. After a minute or two, my phone dinged again.



Archer: When do you think you'll get to Ohio?



Me: Probably about 8 am. I'm up next to drive so I better try to get some rest. I'll text you constantly to let you know what's going on, okay?



Archer: Okay. Will you tell Jordan I said thanks for the phone? I'd like to pay him for it. I didn't think to offer when he came over.



Me: I doubt if he'd take it anyway. But I'll tell him. I love you.



Archer: I love you too.





**********





Me: Slept for a couple hours. Dreamed about you. Stopping for dinner and then I'm going to drive for the next five hrs or so.



Archer: Dream? What kind of dream?



I laughed.



Me: A really, really good dream. ;) Remember that time on the lake shore?



Archer: I'll never forget. I was washing sand out of places sand should never be for a week.



Me: Lol. It was worth it though, right? I miss you.



Archer: Very worth it. I miss you too. Guess what? I went into town for a few things and now I'm walking down the street texting you. I think Mrs. Grady almost had a heart attack. I heard her refer to me as the Unibomber, Jr. once when she passed me in the grocery store. I had to look up who that was at the library. I realized that it hadn't been a compliment.



I groaned, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Some people could be so ignorant. I pictured that isolated teenager bravely fighting his way up to the gate where he would walk out into the world for the first time since he was a small child, and then getting a reception like that. I cringed. Every cell in my body screamed out to protect him, but I couldn't. It had already happened. I didn't even know him then–but the fact that I hadn't been there, shot through my body as guilt and grief anyway. It wasn't rational. It was love.