Trailer Trash(105)
Her fingers flew to her lips, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe it.”
“Me neither. I mean—” The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. “Why would he do that? He must realize Nate could do better. He must know that, right? Why would he want somebody like me—”
His mom came off the couch, closing the distance between them quickly.
“No.” She shook her head, perching on the edge of the coffee table and cupping his face in her hands. It was such a wonderful gesture—so simple, and yet so maternal, that Cody was suddenly fighting tears. “Don’t you start believing the things people say. You’ve been told your whole life that you’re a no-good kid, but it isn’t true. Bad kids lie and steal and cause trouble, but you’ve never done any of those things. The only thing you’ve ever done is had the bad luck to be born to two lousy parents in a place that can’t accept you for who you are. You’re a good kid who’s been dealt a bad hand. You’re the only decent thing I’ve ever managed to create. You’re better than you know, Cody. You’re better than this whole goddamned town, and if you have a ticket out of here, you take it. You take it, and you run as fast as you can, and don’t ever, ever look back.”
“Mom . . .” He didn’t know what to say. He had no way of telling her how much it meant to hear those words from her. “What about you? All the bills and the rent, and there aren’t any jobs in Warren. How will you—”
“Don’t you worry about me.”
Cody still thought it might be wrong to leave her, but the surety that he’d never have a chance like this again kept him moving forward as he packed his few things. It wasn’t until midway through the next day that his mom stopped in the doorway to his room, leaning against the doorframe as he sorted through the last of his clothes.
“Maybe I could go with you,” she said. “Just as far as Cheyenne?”
“To your sister’s house?”
“I took a chance and wasted two bucks at the pay phone. She thinks she can get me a job cleaning rooms with her at the Best Western. Says I can stay with her for a couple of weeks, till I find something I can afford.”
He found himself smiling, glad that he wouldn’t have to leave her in Warren. “It’d be nice to have some company, part of the way, at least.”
It cost him a few extra days, but he didn’t mind the delay. Not too much, at any rate. It seemed like the least he could do for his mom, who needed time to close all their accounts and pack her own things. He had nightmares nearly every night where some shadowy figure appeared at the front door and told them they weren’t allowed to leave.
But they did.
They opted to leave their furniture behind—none of it was worth saving anyway. Half their stuff was packed in garbage bags instead of suitcases, but who cared anyway? Five days after being handed the keys to Nate’s Mustang, Cody and his mom climbed into it and left Warren, Wyoming, behind forever.
It was the best feeling in the world.
“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?” Cody’s mom asked him that afternoon, after they’d finished unpacking her bags from the car. “You could make it the rest of the way to Iowa City tomorrow.”
It was true that staying in Cheyenne would have saved him a night in a hotel, but it also would have left an eleven-hour drive for the next day, with the change in time zones working against him.
Besides, he was ready to get the hell out of Wyoming.
“I’m sure.”
And there, on the front step of his aunt’s duplex, with the wind blowing only a bit less than it did in Warren, his mom hugged him for the first time in ages. He couldn’t have said when the last time had been. It felt good. He was glad she was getting a new start on life too.
“Take care of yourself,” she said, stepping back to meet his eyes. “And be careful.”
“You too.”
He climbed back into the Mustang and waved good-bye. And then there was nothing but him, a handful of beaten-up eight-track tapes that reminded him of Nate, and a long, straight ribbon of road. Every mile marker Cody passed seemed to take a bit of weight off his shoulders.
He stopped for the night in North Platte. His motel room was tiny and reeked of smoke, but it was cheap. He topped off the gas tank so he’d be ready to leave first thing in the morning, and then, before going back to his room, he pumped two dollars into the pay phone and dialed Nate’s number.
In less than twenty-four hours, it’d be his number too.
The sky was fading to twilight, the stars just beginning to show, and Cody thought as the phone started to ring that it might have been the most beautiful night he’d ever seen.