Love Sex And Wanderlust

Author's note

Sometimes, how you get somewhere makes the destination all the more rewarding. In cases like this one, it's all about the journey and the discoveries along the way.

If you have concerns over what content may be in a story, please read the story tags before continuing

. If a subject is not of interest, this may not be the story for you. For everyone else, I hope you enjoy.

As always, all characters are over the age of 18.

Post-publishing note:

This story directly involves a 1956 Chevrolet Cameo, not a Camaro. The Cameo was a pickup produced for a short span of time during the 1950's and the term "car" is used loosely.

* * *

PROLOGUE

Dad had a joke he used to say when we were younger. My sister, Dani, and I didn't really find it funny, but it made Mom laugh.

"Judy is my wife, but Daisy is my mistress."

Back then I didn't quite understand the joke but my sister Danielle and I would still chuckle as if we did. Mom rolled her eyes and did the things that moms do, mostly humoring their husbands. But all things considered, you could tell he did harbor a serious attraction for Daisy, and none of us could blame him. Even Mom would occasionally stare at her curves as she passed. It's true, she was a sight to behold, and my father's pride and joy (yes I'm including his children with that statement). You likely would think the same if you had her, a beautiful blue '56 Chevy Cameo.

I'd like to say we all loved her because Dad was always gushing, but we each found our own joy with that car. He'd spend hours tuning her up in the garage, me lending a hand where I could and learning a thing or two about how she runs. Dani would help too., though 10-year-old me would just say she was in the way. At the end of the day, when we came in with grease and sweat coating our smiling faces, Mom always wash away the grime before she and pops would take an evening ride around town.

It was Mom who actually gave Daisy her name. While Dad was a man with many talents, Mom had a very special eye and was without a doubt the artist in the family. She would sculpt, paint, write, you name it, executing some secret vision that always impressed. As Dad told us; it was when they were young, foolish, and madly in love, Mom painted a little flower on the glovebox. A tiny white and yellow daisy; hence her name.

Our family-owned a small hardware store outside of Dayton, Ohio. Dad originally wanted to name it "Campbells" after our last name, but Mom talked him out of it knowing it would only be a matter of time before a lawyer or two came knocking. It was a modest little shop, and our parents put everything they had into it. To Danielle and I, we lived like royalty, but in reality, we were just scraping by. So imagine our shock when during one family dinner, Mom and Dad laid the heavy news on us.

"Richard, Dani, we have to sell Daisy."

I don't mean to sound melodramatic but to say we were devastated would be an understatement. Daisy was part of the family; you can't sell a family member! I had dreamed of learning to drive with that truck! Maybe someday, perhaps Dad would even hand the keys over to me for keeps. But for all our crying and kicking, that's what happened, Dad sold her to some car collector or something and the world somehow managed to keep spinning.

As the years passed, somehow I managed to graduate high school, and even more surprisingly, obtained a scholarship to Boston University for Engineering. Sure it meant heading a few states away from the family, but I still found the means to go back on holidays and breaks. As time went on, and college curriculum got harder, I found more and more need to lean into those moments away with family. I mean, sure, I still managed to let off steam as college kids do, and I did well enough in the lady department, but still, there's something to be said about coming home and spending time with loved ones that reminds you of the simple things.

With the first year away under my belt, and when Dani was a senior in High School, everything else seemed to get easier. Yet that year, when I came home on spring break, it just so

happened to be when Mom and Dad were vacationing in California's Wine Country. Annoying as that was, it gave Dani and I a whole week just to ourselves. We got to catch up and bond like never before. Honestly, that week was when my sister started to become more of a friend, which was a weird thing to say.

We caught up on our yearly shenanigans, dating lives, school and work, and whatever. We had a Star Wars marathon, played endless board games, and just messed around doing whatever stupid things came to mind. It was just good, honest fun. Then, just like that, the week was over and it was time to make the long trek back east. But not before we made a pledge to meet up every year after.

To really understand what happened next, one would have to better understand Danielle as a whole. I have nothing but love and respect for my sister. She, like myself, strives to be as kind and caring as possible and "do the whole do well unto others" life. Yet at the same time, she is also pretty sarcastic, pretty snarky, and pretty... well she's pretty.

Look, I know there's no avoiding the obvious here, but when considering all context and narrative expectations, it should go without saying that yes, I think my sister is an attractive human being; inside and out. She has that cute personality of the girl next door if they were also somewhat of a not-so-secretive nerd. She kept active, being in both track and volleyball, yet not-so-secretively wanted to be in the drama club. If you took all the stereotypes in high school and turn them into a Venn Diagram; she'd be the one flipping you off in the middle. So yeah, she was

that

girl; cute enough to get Prom Queen, but hip enough to reject it.

So that's Dani; my compulsive, spunky, witty, cute, and almost filterless little sister. It then came as no surprise when she moved to Austin, Texas to study Interior Design, followed closely after by Seattle, Washington for literature. Literally, every year after high school she was on the move, sometimes twice a year. I think it was when she was in Salt Lake City she finally stopped with college altogether. By then, she didn't need it. She made contacts, learned a thing or two, then would move on to her next destination that somehow piqued her interest. I wasn't one to complain as each year, I'd go see her wherever she was and in so doing, got to travel the nation. It was our tradition. Yet while we had our adventures, back home things were different.

For our folks, it was a little hard at first with the empty house and quiet rooms. But I blame Dani and her exploits across the country for somehow passing on the travel bug. Wishing for their own adventure, they decided to move westward. Dad sold the shop and the house was next. They bought up some acres outside of those vineyards in California they loved so much. As Dad put it, they were gonna spend their next chapter tilling the earth or something like that.

And that was it, childhood was over. Adulthood coming in hot. Didn't know what to expect next, but leave it to Dani to shake things up.

* * *

March 2004.

GREENSBORO, NORTH CAROLINA

It never fails; when traveling at an airport, you will always find yourself stuck behind someone who is standing on the moving walkways. And so, here I was, backpack slung over my shoulder after a five-hour flight to North Carolina. Everything I brought was able to fit in the overhead bin, and now stuck behind a family with far too many bags just standing there, congesting the walkway. As my agitation began to rise, I calmed myself. I was in no hurry. None at all.

Maneuvering through the airport was a different challenge. After passing families reuniting, the businessmen and women running here and there as if perpetually late for whatever is next, I made it to the gaggle of chauffeurs all patiently holding signs to find their hired client. As I passed the last group, I suddenly stopped, a moment of doubt washed over me, but I know I saw what I thought I saw.

I turned back finding in the sea of signs and people, a lone female agent waiting for a "Mr. Dickhead". And of course, the bearer of said sign wearing aviator shades, an oversized chauffeur's hat & coat, and a shit-eating grin, was my dear sister, Dani.

With a smile on my face, I shook my head and approached.

"Mr. Dickhead?" she asked raising an eyebrow. Her smile was so bright it could be seen by the blind.

"Um, Mr. Dickhead is my father. Just Dickhead is fine. " I replied. Fun to lean into it sometimes. I nodded to her cap, "Where'd you get that?"

She looked up, at least I think she did. Hard to tell with the glasses.

"Oh!" she said nodding to the gentleman beside her. "That's Tommy's," she said as Tommy looked down at her nervously. Like so many of her victims, the poor chap had fallen in love with her with little effort of her own. He's far from the first, and God knows, he is far from the last.

She handed him the cap and jacket, leaving herself in a deep green halter-top and torn-fitted jeans. She thanked Tommy and he mumbled his response, oblivious to his elderly guest who approached saying "Hello? Hellooo? I'm Ms. Cunningham. Hello?"

Dani looked back to me and burst with an excited "So good to see you!" as she yanked me into a firm hug by her surprisingly firm body. She was never one I would consider overweight but also was never one to frequent the gym as far as I was aware.

As quick as it started, she released me causing my senses to flood back.

"Good to see you too, Sis," I somehow squeaked out as she pulled away, her hand staying on my chest.

"You," she said with a soft pat-pat-pat of her hand, "Really need a shower."

"What?" I sniffed my shirt. "Smell's alright to me."

"Oh jeez, I'm sure it does," she rolled her eyes as she took off her sunglasses, hooking them into the collar of her top. Her blue eyes sparkled. "Come on smelly man. I parked in the hourly lot."

Twenty minutes later we were on a backcountry highway. Dani drove us in an old station wagon that hugged the roadways as we ventured out of Greensboro.

Rolling green hills passed by in an endless cycle, peppered with old trees and fences in various conditions. The day was passing quickly and already the first few shades of pink could be seen as the sun began its descent.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Dani said as we cruised along.

"Never been out this way before. Feel like we are in the good 'ol heart of America."

I could hear her smile. "I totally thought the same thing," she replied before turning to look at me. "You got two weeks off this time, right? Just like I asked?"

Nodding my head. "I did but I may be in hot water when I get back. Gonna' clue me in on what's going on with this trip?" I didn't need to look to know she was smiling.

"Soon! You're gonna love this. It's gonna blow your fucking mind."

Rounding a turn revealed a field in the middle of a harvest. A large combine cut the crop like it was getting a haircut. The driver waved as we passed and my sister returned the gesture.

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked.

"Heading out to a friend of mine. Been staying there for about the last few months."

"In Greensboro? I didn't even know when you moved out here."

She cut me a side eye, obviously hiding something. "I don't tell you everything."

"So Chicago, Seattle, Portland, New York..." I began.

"Mm-hmmm" she smiled, hands at two and ten on the wheel.

"... I know I'm missing a few here, but these are major cities."

"So astute."

"Well, I mean, you've been in these big places and now here, the great expanse of nothingness," I said gesturing with sweeping arms at the scenic landscape.

With her face aghast but a hint of a smile, she turned to me. "You say that like we are way out in the boonies! This isn't-"

"Dani!" I shouted, eyes on the road.

Tires screeched as the car skidded to a stop. A mere two feet from us stood an unshaken lamb, staring at me as it casually chewed on whatever lambs eat.

"Jesus Christ," Dani exhaled, unbuckling her seatbelt as she leaned out the window. "Charlie! Charlie, get your dumb ass out of the road!"

Charlie stared back, unmoved. He blinked, then sauntered off to the side, a dull bell around his neck clunking with each step.

Dani slipped back inside. "That fucking lamb. I swear he is the dumbest..." she trailed off.

"Friend of yours?" I asked.

She glared. "No," and re-buckled her seatbelt. "But we're here."

We turned to the right, driving down a road of dirt and gravel. It sliced through a field of knee-high, green grass and scattered oak trees. From behind them all appeared a picturesque little blue house. White trim with actual shutters. Small porch in the front with an even larger red barn peeking out the back. The only thing that would make this more complete would be a sleeping dog on the porch... ah, there he is. The biggest damn sheepdog on God's green earth reared its head as our tires crunched the gravel driveway.

"Hiya, Winston!" Dani called to him, and that tiny bear sprung to life like it was just a pup.

She parked and jumped out while the furry beast hobbled down to smother her in fur kisses. The two of them played in what appeared to be a ritual greeting, both jumping with excitement. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I climbed out of the car and into the warm evening.

"Winston! Down!" a voice called from the house. The dog instantly turned and lumbered back to his master.

On the porch near the now open door stood an older woman, composed and almost regal yet wearing an old plaid shirt tucked into her jeans. Silver streaks ran through her straight black hair, cut just at the shoulder. By the way she dried her hands on the cloth, we must have either interrupted her in prepping dinner or cleaned up from it. The sudden scent of roasting chicken answered my inquiry.

"Hey, Barb," Dani called up to the woman as she skipped up the steps to the porch, ruffling Winston's fur to his pure delight. The two women embraced in a warm hug.

"I was wondering when you'd get in. Figured I'd still have about half an hour," Barb said as she pulled back, her eyes turning to me. "This handsome young man can't be Richard."

"I'm afraid so," I smiled back, following Dani up the steps. "Barbara is it?" I asked extending my hand.

"Barb is fine," she replied as she brushed my hand away. "No need for that. Come here," and suddenly I was pulled into a tight hug by this stranger. "I can't tell you how happy I am to finally meet you!" she said pulling back.

"Well, I am sure you must be exhausted. Danielle, why don't you show him his room so he can get settled."

"Thanks," I said. "Is there a shower I could use to freshen up? I am told I am unfit for the public." My side eye to Dani was not meant to be stealthy. Dani scrunched her nose and giggled.

Barb waved it off. "Oh, hush. You just smell like a man who's spent a day in the sun. Dinner's in ten minutes."

And with that, she and Winston retreated inside the old house as Dani nodded to follow.

"Come on, right up the stairs."

A room had been prepped for me and after my day of travel, it felt kingly indeed. It was a country house to be sure. Hardwood floors, a queen bed with a blue quilted cover, a dresser, a rug, and a cross-stitched picture of a sunflower hanging on the wall. In addition, there was a Jack-and-Jill bathroom connecting Dani's room to my own.

I set my bag down on the bed and felt the gentle breeze from the open window, causing the white lace curtains to sway. From outside I could hear chickens clucking, followed soon after by the crow of an honest-to-god rooster. Downstairs the sounds of plates being set and Dani's laughter bounced up the wooden stairs. After the business of the plane and airport, the serenity of this house and country was almost shockingly peaceful. These old houses were meant to breathe, and that simple fact helped me to take a deep breath and let out all the tension and stress. That baggage would be left behind.

After changing my shirt, I had just enough time to splash some water on my face before Dani poked her head into the bathroom.

"Hey! You 'bout ready?" she asked. "Barbara's made her famous chicken. So yummy."

"Yeah, totally. Been smelling it since I came in," I said shaking the water off my hands. "So hey, you gonna fill me in on what's going on? I mean, Barb, North Carolina, the fact that suddenly you are a total country girl? Compared to our normal yearly meetups, I'm a little in the dark here."

"I know, I'm sorry. Just trust me, I'll fill you in after dinner. Then we will have plenty of time to catch up."

A heavy sigh left me. It was a long day, and I knew better than to argue with Dani.

"Sure thing."

"Thanks, Dickhead. I'll see you down there." And just like that, she was gone again.

To say dinner was amazing would fail to do it justice. Barbara had prepared a small feast of a lemon & herb roasted chicken, cooked over carrots and onions which bathed in the savory juices of the meat. The skin was crisp, the meat was moist, and the homemade buttermilk biscuits almost brought a tear to my eye. Barb must have been working on this all afternoon but she insisted multiple times over that it took no effort.

We ate, we drank, and we laughed and laughed. There are few people I can say this about but it is amazing to me how a year can pass between these moments with my sister but as soon as we are back together, we instantly fall right back in sync. We quoted Ghostbusters, shared hometown stories, Barbara regaled us with the exploits of Charlie; the world's dumbest lamb, and Winston kept searching under the table for any fallen scraps, nearly knocking over each chair he passed with his behemoth size.

After the dishes were cleared and collectively cleaned, Barbara bid us a good night leaving Dani and I to chat alone at the kitchen table.

We watched her leave with her sleepy dog trotting behind.

"She's the best. I friggin' love that woman," Dani said as she poured herself another glass of Chardonnay.

"So how'd you two meet?"

"Ah!" Her eyes lit up as she leaned forward. "It was actually a couple years back when I lived in New York. I was working on a special project and ended up getting in contact with her late husband, Hank."

She leaned back, placing a hand over her heart. "Honestly, he was the sweetest guy, Richie, he really was. Polite, caring, and thought the world of Barbara. That man loved his wife, no questions asked. To see them together, you'd think they just started dating." Tears welled up in her eyes and she took a deep breath; composing herself.

"So," she began. "I ended up getting in contact with Hank and we ended up chatting back and forth from time to time. When they found out I was passing through, they offered to put me up for a couple of days and that began to be a regular thing up until last Fall. I was coming down to spend a weekend here and found out Hank passed away not long before. I couldn't leave Barb like that so the weekend turned into a week, then a month, and before you know it, here I am."

"What about your job?" I asked.

"That I can now do from anywhere."

I must have had a questioning look on my face, either that or she read my mind.

"I'm kinda like a journalist now. Kinda. More like editorials and stuff for... Have you heard of 'Anastasia'? The Magazine?"

After a moment's thought, I shook my head. "Sorry."

"No worries," she said. "It's kinda one of those girlie rags like Cosmo, but anyway, I met an editor for them in Seattle and started writing for them last year. Mostly I do little thought pieces and get paid when I post, then bonuses based on how many views, and, blah-blah-blah. They told me to get a laptop, get a camera, and wished me luck."