A Rocky Divorce by Matt Coleman

Author:Matt Coleman [Coleman, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pandamoon Publishing
Published: 2019-12-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Rocky left her ex-husband dealing with his discombobulation on the porch steps and drove across the highway to park behind a cluster of trees on her uncle’s property. The cover allowed her to watch her old house to see any brown trucks cruising by. She rolled down her windows and got comfortable, pulling up a book on her phone to read. With the windows down, she would hear any approaching vehicles or other movement in plenty of time to look up from her slutmance novel.

After about an hour and a half with no brown trucks, Rocky heard a car pulling up behind her. A long gravel driveway to the home of her aunt and uncle stretched off into her rearview mirror, which meant anyone coming would be a relative. She checked the mirror and found Jen climbing out of her car with a perplexed expression. Jen climbed into the passenger seat of Rocky’s car and gestured across the highway, “Rocky, are you spying on Chet?”

Rocky shook her head. “Not primarily, no. I mean, he did leave on a four-wheeler to ride off into the woods about thirty minutes ago, which I found strange. I took the opportunity to drive over and rifle through his truck for something of mine I left there. But I would not say I am spying on him.”

Jen closed her eyes. “Rocky, please tell me you got your paperwork from him.”

Rocky nodded. “Oh. Oh, yeah. A good while back. He tried to make out with me.”

“Gross.”

“Yep.”

They both watched back and forth through the trees up and down the highway for a moment. Jen winced. “Rock, what are we doing?”

Rocky rubbed her hands together. “We are watching for a brown truck.”

Jen nodded. “Okay. Why?”

“Chet said one has driven by several times. He assumed the truck belonged to someone I’m fucking. I’d kind of like to know who it does belong to.”

Jen sighed and shook her head. “That’s it. Drive.”

“What?”

“Drive, Rocky. We are going to get a drink.”

Rocky frowned. “I am busy, Jen.”

“No, Rocky. You aren’t. You are sitting here staring at your asshole ex-husband’s house watching for some imaginary brown truck he made up in his asshole head. You need to drink and laugh and get hit on and forget about Chet for a while. Just leave my car here. It’ll be fine. Now, go. Go. Drive.”

Rocky groaned but rolled up her windows and fastened her seatbelt with a begrudged pout, pulling out from behind the cluster of trees as she did. They made the fifteen-minute drive back to Texarkana and let themselves slip into Palermo gossip as Jen scrolled through an app on her phone dedicated to publicizing local mug shots. Rocky drove them to a steakhouse chain restaurant in Texarkana because she happened to like the piña coladas they made there. Jen made every effort to get them seated at the bar, but Rocky insisted on a booth by a window about as far away from any semblance of a crowd as they could get.

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