Leaving Home
Just played Road 96 and I have some big feelings about the sad, angry man with a gun so I wrote a little fic about his wife coming to pick him up when his reign of terror came to an end. It’s my first time posting a fic, so please be kind.
He didn’t move when I climbed up onto the stool next to him, but everyone else seemed to flinch a little.
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Jarod had only been at the bar for ten minutes so far, but had already chugged his first drink and had his head down on the counter as he waited for his second. Everyone at the bar made sure there were a few chairs between them and the grumpy regular, and even the bartender seemed a little more serious around Jarod.
“Uh, what can I get ya?” The large man behind the bar asked. I could see the nervous look behind his dark sunglasses.
“Can I please have a shot of tequila and…” I paused, glancing at the sunken man beside me, “...and another of whatever he’s drinking?” The bartender quickly nodded and went to fulfill the order. Jarod stirred next to me.
He titled his head from within his arms, glancing up at the supposed stranger next to him who had just ordered him another drink, but his next breath was sucked into his throat as his eyes met mine.
He broke eye contact first. He sat up, his spine a little straighter, and he rested his forearms on the table.
“Liz.” His rasp had only gotten worse from the years of abusing cigarettes and alcohol.
“Jarod.” I returned, content with looking at the profile of his face. He didn’t turn to me yet, just kept his eyes on the wall of alcohol in front of him.
“How did you find me?” I had missed his low, monotone voice more than I had wanted to admit. I missed him mumbling sleepily to me, I missed his little quips accompanied by a sideways smirk, I missed Jarod.
“You’re not the only one capable of tracking someone down.” I hummed, but forced a little thank you smile to the bartender as he sat down my order. I took the shot of tequila without a second thought before sliding whatever it was that he had made for Jarod toward him.
But Jarod didn’t take it. He kind of tapped it with his gloved hand but didn’t drink it.
“Did you finish what you needed to?” I asked, resting my arms against the bar in a similar fashion to him.
Jarod was quiet for a moment. “I did it for Lola.” He spoke softly, afraid the people around us would hear her name.
“I know you did. I asked if you were finished.” Again, he didn’t answer me, instead just shifted his heavy gaze into his drink. “The election is over, Robert’s gone, and you stopped calling into the Sonya Show. Are you ready to come home?”
Jarod finally looked at me. He turned his head, his brown eyes taking in mine once more. “You’d let me come home?” I could only nod, ten years of emotion suddenly coming over me. I didn’t want to cry, not here in some dingy bar with my estranged husband. But he turned away from me again and knotted his eyebrows. “I can’t go home.” I didn’t ask but he knew to keep explaining. “Everywhere I look, I’m reminded of her. What’s home without Lola?”
He had a point.
I had kept her bedroom door closed and tried not to think of anything behind it, but everything reminded me of her. The living room where she used to set up and play with her toy dinosaurs and where we’d all curl up on the couch to have movie nights. The kitchen where I told Jarod I was pregnant, where we used to carve pumpkins with her every Halloween, where we tried to teach her to cook. The hallway where my water broke, where she’d come bounding down each Christmas, where pictures of her life still hung. In the basement, we had built forts and played inside when the weather was bad. The backyard had swings she used when she was younger and a soccer goal from middle school. She posed at the front door each school year, and the steps at the backdoor had created most of her scraped knees. The attic was full of stuff she had grown out of that we never had the courage to throw away, most of it was stuff we had planned to show to her and her future family one day as things to cherish.
I reached over and put my hand over his, and surprisingly, he twisted his hand to hold mine. “We’ve both spent the last ten years wallowing in her death. I think it’s time we both lived for Lola.” My voice trembled, and I tried to fight away the tears again. He looked back at me, eyes red and tear lined. “Let’s go somewhere. Let’s go the beach, let’s go somewhere in Europ-”
“Mexico.” He nodded a little, like he had already been thinking of it.
“We can keep the house so we can come back to it when we’re ready.” I paused. “If we’re ever ready.” I gently teased, a little chuckle coming with the tears now falling down my cheeks. He sniffled as he squeezed my hand in his.
“I need to burn the cab first.” It was an honest statement, but he smiled when I laughed.
“Let’s go burn the cab, then I’ll drive us to the airport.” He let go of my hand as I spoke to fish inside his pockets. He sat some cash on the counter, but neither him or the bartender paid each other any mind.
Jarod stood when I did, watching me with his heavy eyes - he was exhausted from carrying whatever sins he had picked up on his journey, and now he had someone to help him carry them.
He managed a little half smile when I grinned up at him. “I missed you, Jarod.”
As we started toward the door together, he threw an arm around my shoulders. “I missed you, Liz.” He rasped, pulling me tightly into his side and pressing a kiss into my temple.
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Road 96 Game Gush Review - Xbox Series X
Hitchhiking, solving mysteries, fighting political propaganda. Hit the road with Zoe in the Road 96 Game Gush Review on the Xbox Series X!
Hello Game Gushers,
You caught your favorite cookie completing yet another thrill-seeking adventure. Welcome the mighty Road 96, courtesy of the amazing Xbox Game Pass! This time, I was cast into a deep interactive story developed by DigixArt. Game gushers who love interconnecting storylines will want to continue reading about this special game today. Hitchhiking, solving mysteries, fighting…
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