The Sportster: Deadwood Weekend

It wasn’t long after we arrive in Deadwood when I felt a fight coming on. It’s interesting how that feeling settles into my joints and bones and I can sense it looming. Jay was especially quiet in the truck; he had been since we left Hometown.  D had blabbered on about random things, trying to ease the tension in the truck, and I was left wondering why Jay’s attitude was so stormy. I could have sworn I saw storm clouds looming over his head, lightning bolts striking occasionally.

There wasn’t much of a reason for him to be pissy. We hadn’t run into anyone I knew at the gas station. Bowman hadn’t been anywhere in sight. His attitude was from something he held inside of him.

I stepped out of the truck at the hotel and sighed. The cool Blackhills air hit me and relaxed my nerves. I grabbed my luggage and attempted to avoid setting off Jay, “here let me get it.” He said as I pulled it out of the truck. His tone was cold; I felt it pierced every muscle as it hit me.

D walked into the hotel leaving the two of us at the truck. He said it before I could ask what was wrong, “Why do you still have that picture in your room?”

My head spun trying to remember what picture he was talking about. Then it hit me, tucked away in my scrapbook from last year was a couple of pictures of me and Bowman on his bike. “Those are in my scrapbook. Why were you in it?” I asked.

“I asked you a question first.” He said.

“They are in my book because that’s one of my first motorcycle rides.” I said as I took my luggage from him and tried to avoid the fight.

For some reason I always end up in the same hotel room in Deadwood. I asked D if he had requested it, he shook his head no and looked at me like I was crazy. I dropped my bag on the floor and walked into the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind me. I'm familiar enough with the room to know that if you don't latch it, it has a tendency to swing open.

I could hear Jay wrestling his luggage; I knew the argument wasn’t over yet.  Staring into the mirror I attempted to steel my nerves.

“You can’t avoid it the whole weekend!” Jay said through the door. “If you are still in love with him I need to know.”

It pissed me off, his remarks. We’d been through the conversation about Bowman before. I was attempting to move on, to put him in the past and work on building the future with Jay. I swung the door open and stared at him, “I don’t feel like having this conversation with you right now. If you are going to be an ass all weekend you can stay over in D’s room.”

He blinked at me, “I guess that’s my answer right there.” He stood up, grabbed his luggage, and left the room.

My knees buckled under me and I sunk to the cold tile floor and cried, cried hard, the hardest I’ve cried since the Breakup. I missed him…

To Be Continued . . .