I'd been looking forward to this trip for weeks. Normally, I flew to client meetings this far from home, but Des Moines was only four hours away by car. Factoring in check-in time at the airport, going through security, and taking taxis on both ends, it would take at least that long to travel there by plane. Plus, driving was infinitely less hassle. All I had to do was jump in my SUV, turn on the nav system, and point my way to my destination. All while soaking up the pretty midwestern scenery and listening to my favorite tunes on the radio.
Besides, I hadn't been on a road trip in years, and I was looking forward to feeling the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. There was something strangely romantic and liberating about the call of the open road. Being able to stop whenever you wanted, take a little detour if the mood struck, and watching the intoxicating flow of traffic like so many ants scurrying over their anthill.
After packing up a few days' worth of provisions and locking up my house, I turned out of my subdivision onto Route 30, heading west. This part of the trip was still familiar from my childhood forays into the lake district of northern Wisconsin, and I smiled as I breathed in the pastoral landscape of the passing farms. The countryside was a brilliant patchwork of yellows and greens, and my head lolled from side to side as I followed the neatly arranged rows of corn, soybeans, and wheat while my car glided down the two-lane highway.
After glancing down to dial in my favorite country music station, I looked up to see an unusual sight on the side of the road a few hundred feet ahead. It was something I hadn't seen for a long time–a hitchhiker. Curious to see who was still daring enough to catch a ride from a stranger in these troubling times, I squinted as the traveler came into focus. As the distance between us closed, my eyes widened when I realized it was a girl.
A young, scantily clad girl.
I could hardly believe my eyes as my car rushed past her. She couldn't have been more than eighteen years old, if that. Wearing tight, cut-off jean shorts and a white tank top, she had the young, nubile figure of a high-school teenager. My first reaction was one of shock and disbelief.
What in God's name is a girl like that doing thumbing a ride on the highway? Doesn't she realize how many predators are out there looking for an easy mark just like her?
As I watched her get smaller and smaller in my rear-view mirror, I shook my head disapprovingly, then suddenly screeched on the brakes and pulled over onto the shoulder. Normally I wouldn't give a second thought to taking on a hitchhiker knowing there was just as much risk for the driver, especially for a single woman like me. But there was something about this girl that I couldn't resist. Whether it was her naïve vulnerability or the appearance of her slender brown legs, I wasn't sure. Either way, the little twitch in my pussy told me this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up.
At first, she didn't notice that I'd pulled over, since I was so far ahead of her. I honked my horn and flashed my lights and she turned her head in my direction, then she picked up her small suitcase and began jogging toward me. Feeling sorry for her, I put my car in reverse and slowly backed up along the shoulder until we closed the gap. When she came up on my right side, I rolled down the passenger window and peered out at her.
"Where are you headed?" I smiled.
"California," she said, catching her breath.
"I'm only going as far as Des Moines, but I'm happy to point you in the right direction."
"Thanks," she nodded.
I unlocked my doors and tilted my head toward the back seat.
"You can throw your bag in the back if you want. But there's a lot more room up front to stretch your legs."
The girl opened the rear door and threw her carry-on-size roller bag on the back seat then climbed in the front next to me.
I smiled at her and checked my driver's mirror, then slowly pulled back onto the highway.
"I'm Jade," I said, introducing myself.
"Brooklyn," the girl replied.
"That's a pretty name. Do you go by Brooke, or Lynn, or do you like to be called by your full name?"
"Either way is fine. But most of my friends call me Brooke."
"Brooke it is," I nodded, interested to learn more about this mysterious stranger. "So, California? What's taking a pretty girl like you so far away from home?"
"I dunno," she said. "Just spreading my wings, I guess. Now that I've finished high school, I figured I might as well try my luck in La-La Land."
"Are you looking to be a movie star?" I laughed.
"Probably not. I thought I'd get a job as a waitress and check things out. But you never know, right? Wasn't that how Marilyn Monroe got discovered?"
I glanced over at the girl and smiled. With her curly blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, she could easily pass for a younger version of the matinee idol.
"Actually, I think she was working in a factory. But with those all-American looks, you've got as good a chance as any."
"Thanks," the girl said.
For the next couple of minutes, awkward silence filled the car as Brooke peered out her side of the window at the passing fields.
"It's pretty this time of the year, isn't it?" I said, making small talk. "I always like going for a drive as we approach harvest time. The crops are nearing full bloom, and you can smell the perfume in the air. Do you mind if I open the sunroof a bit so we can soak up the sunshine?"
"By all means," she said. "I probably should start working on my tan so I can keep up with all those California golden girls."
"I don't think you've got much to worry about," I said, glancing at her tawny thighs poking out of her cut-off jeans. There were so many questions I still had about this shy beauty. "But you're awfully young to be pulling up stakes and heading to the other side of the country. What do your parents think of this idea?"
"I'm not sure they much care," she shrugged. "My father lives in New York and my mother shacked up with an alcoholic who only seems to care where his next drink is coming from."
"I'm sorry to hear," I said, wincing at the thought of this pretty girl being neglected by uncaring parents.
"It's cool," she said. "I'm free as a bird now and the world is my oyster."
I peered over at Brooke, noticing her body language didn't match her cavalier attitude. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest while her foot tapped nervously against the floorboard.
"Do they even know where you're headed?" I said. "I'm sorry to sound like an overbearing mother, but I'd hate for them to worry what happened to you."
"We had a fight earlier in the week when I told them I was thinking of leaving. My mother wanted me to go to college and my step-father just sees me as his meal ticket. I think he was afraid if I left that my mother wouldn’t have any reason to keep him around."
I glanced over at Brooke and noticed a faint bruise around the base of her neck.
"But you are eighteen though? I mean, I wouldn't want to get either one of us in trouble..."
"Yes," she huffed sarcastically. "Just turned. I got the hell out of there just in time."
"Do you mind my asking why you weren't interested in going to college? You seem like a smart, well-spoken girl. Weren't your grades good enough?"
"I did well enough in high school," she said. "I just wanted to spread my wings before I get locked into another four years of school and a boring, dead-end job."
I couldn't help admire her free spirit and sense of adventure. But I wondered if there was another reason for her sudden uprooting.
"And there's nothing else keeping you close to home? Boyfriends, a steady job..."
"I've been saving up from my weekend job at Applebee's these last two years. Now I've finally got enough to start over on the west coast. I've had plenty enough of boys. They're only interested in one thing anyhow."
I felt my heart racing, seeing a window of opportunity opening. While I was in no hurry to take advantage of her, I felt like I'd found a kindred spirit. Even though there was fifteen years separating us in age, we shared a similar view on life with neither of us wanting to be held back by society's norms.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. My first husband wasn't exactly Mr. Perfect either. I'm in no hurry to jump into bed with another guy anytime soon."
I noticed Brooke's body language beginning to relax as she placed her arm on the door rest for support, hunching down a few inches in her seat.
"What are you headed to Des Moines for?" she asked.
"A meeting with a client. I'm a graphic designer and I'm going to review some ideas he had for updating his corporate identity."
"Corporate identity?"
"He operates a chain of restaurants. He wants to refresh his logo, menus, signage, and so on. It's a branding thing."
"Mmm," Brooke nodded. "Will you be staying long?"
"It's just a one-day meeting. But I've booked a hotel overnight so I'll be fresh for the drive back tomorrow."
Brooke peered back out the side of her window as we listened to the sound of the wind whistling through the overhead sunroof and soft country music on the radio. Periodically, I'd catch her stealing glimpses out the side of her eyes at my legs in my tight jeans and my loose blouse flapping in the breeze.
"Do you like your job?” she asked after a few minutes.
"It's a living," I said. "At least I'm my own boss and I get to exercise my creative juices. Each commission is different and I meet some interesting people along the way. How about you? Do you have any special passions or talents?"
"Not really. I was pretty good at science and math at school, but I can't think of a job in either of those fields that interests me."
I nodded my head, trying to think of a way to get her to open up a little more. So far, she'd played her cards pretty close to the vest, and I was beginning to wonder if there was any way I could draw her out of her shell.
"There's a lot you can do with those skills," I said. "Especially if you go on to college. Quite a few math majors move into finance. Quants make some big bucks on Wall Street. Trading, risk management, investment banking–maybe it would be an opportunity for you to reconnect with your father in New York?"
"He's got his own life now with a new bride and two toddlers. I'm not sure there's much room for me in his picture any longer."
"What about science?" I frowned. "There's so many interesting careers you could explore in that area. Marine biology, space exploration, you could even be a doctor."
"I'm too young to be thinking about all that mature stuff," Brooke said. "I've got my whole life ahead of me. There'll be plenty of time to explore my options when I settle down."
I peered over at Brooke, watching the breeze from the open sunroof swirling her blonde locks against her pretty face as she leaned back, closing her eyes.
"Sorry, I'm sure the last thing you want right now is to be stuck on a four-hour road trip with someone who sounds like your mother. No more career counseling, I promise. Let's just enjoy the open road and the wind in our hair!"
She issued a smile of relief, then I noticed her tapping her fingers on the edge of the door as she peered outside.
"Do you like Blake Shelton?" I said, seeing her foot tapping in rhythm to the music on the radio.
"He's fun to watch on The Voice. But I like this song. He and Gwen look like they really love each other in the video version."
"It sure is dreamy," I said, turning up the volume. "I'm not sure I'll ever find that kind of love."
While we listened to the song, Brooke began to hum the melody quietly under her breath.
"I don't wanna look back in thirty years," I sang along to the lyrics, trying to get her to open up. "And wonder who I'm married to..."
"Wanna say it now, wanna make it clear," Brooke joined in softly. "For only you and God to hear..."
"When you love someone," we joined in together, "they say you set 'em free. But that ain't gonna work for me..."
As the drumbeat introduced the chorus, I turned the volume up higher.
"I don't wanna live without you," we both belted. "I don't wanna even breathe, don't wanna dream about you, wanna wake up with you next to me."
Brooke had a sweet, lilting tone, but I could see sadness in her eyes as she sang along with me. I smiled at her as I cranked the volume up until the beat surrounded us in the pounding cabin.
"I don't wanna go down any other road now," she sang, looking back at me. "I don't wanna love nobody but you."
"Looking in your eyes now," we sang together. "If I had to die now, I don't wanna love nobody but you..."
As the song drifted off to the second verse, Brooke peered out her window, singing the rest of the song to herself. When I glanced over at her, I realized how vulnerable and alone she must have felt. I had no idea what kind of hardships she'd experienced in her young life, but from the pining sound of her voice, she looked broken and lost.
I peered ahead and saw a sign for a roadside rest area and looked over at her.
"Are you hungry?" I said. "There's an A&W restaurant at the pull-off. Nothing like a burger and fries with a down-home root beer to drown out your sorrows. My treat."
"Sure," Brooke said, smiling back at me. "I could go for a root beer right about now."
As I pulled off into the rest area, my heart skipped a beat. Somehow I knew this trip was going to have a lot more twists and turns than I planned.
