“Find the only broken camper on Brindleton Main Street, parked next to a duplex. You really can’t miss it.”
Leaving Maria’s bed that morning felt just as wrong as it was necessary. He was transient now. He had places to go but nowhere to stay. He did it. He rocked the boat. He uprooted his life for a chance at something wild and untamed, and would it be for the better? Who could say? But he suspected, at least, it probably couldn’t be worse.
How had he never seen the bay at sunrise? Always too busy and tired from the hustle and bustle to stop and notice the smell of fresh-caught fish and boats refueling, the caw of hungry seagulls pecking for their breakfast, and shopkeepers running to open up the day. Look at what he found. How much more was out there waiting to be found?
He was transient and free and becoming truly excited, because today was the start of a whole new life. The day crackled with possibilities. Already he felt like the lord of his own destiny, even if Colette didn’t know it was true yet. Today is the day she would know it.
He stayed on that dock for a while, listening to the morning come awake. And he thought of Maria and how he left her. She would wake soon to an empty bed, with questions and doubts. He never wished that for her. He sent her a text.
He had a lot of goodbyes to say, and the day was going to be long with them.Jordan: Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to wake you. I have a lot to get done.
Maria: Will you say goodbye before you go? Please?
Jordan: I will. Promise.
Nine o’clock, a more reasonable hour to begin work, he knocked on the door and got the key from Ingrid’s brother. He started work on the camper.
There was nothing here she couldn’t have repaired at any corner workshop in an afternoon. It was probably another game of hers that she asked him to do it. He had tools in his truck, and there was a parts shop around the corner. The fix didn’t take much more than an hour. The camper was roadworthy, but stinky nonetheless. He sprayed some deodorizer on the piss-scented carpets and left the windows cracked open.
By the afternoon, he went home. But this was not his home. Not anymore, and it hadn’t been for a very long time, even if he had still slept on the couch most nights. After last night, he knew he would never sleep on that couch again. This was his boys’ home, Colette’s home. But he had a key still and let himself in.
He intended to spend the afternoon with his boys.
Colette scowled as he rushed past and ran up the stairs to fill a bag with his things. She had a look on her face. Maybe she felt something coming—the shock waves of joyous freedom coming from him were so strong.
Colette had other ideas, of course.
“I have the day planned, Jordan. You can’t just slither in here from god knows where and hijack my whole day. I was going to take them to tutoring while I get my nails done.”
“Then go get your nails done,” he said, “I’m taking my kids to the beach.”
The boys liked his plan better—which Colette hated—so they all hurried out the door while Colette continued to whine about the importance of getting a head start on the school year before it began, advanced academic placement pathways, and how fourth grade was such a crucial year for math.
It was still summer vacation for five more days, and Jordan was taking his boys out to enjoy the sunshine.
Jordan knew he needed to get to them first. They needed to hear it from him first, in his words and not hers. They took it how he expected they would. They rejected it first, they had questions and doubts, but they let him explain his side of the story.
He promised them Japan, Hawaii, and Brazil. He would take them skiing, snorkeling, and hiking. They’d go somewhere new every summer and the air would always smell different. They’d never say, “I’m bored.”
Jordan: I told the boys. I think they took it okay.
Maria: I’m so glad. ❤️
Maria: Come over later if you want. 😉
While the boys were out, Colette treated herself to some expensive pampering. She liked her massage like she liked her sex—deep, hard, and rough.
“Harder,” Colette demanded. “I said harder.”
“Lady, I’m gonna break your back,” the masseuse said.
Then she finished off her afternoon with a fresh set of claws, dagger-sharp. Perfect! Just in case anyone tried to claim that she was a miserable bitch. She was a bitch, yes! But she wasn’t always miserable.
Jordan brought the boys back home. “Why don’t you boys head upstairs and play a game. Your mom and I need to talk.”
“Oh, God, I just paid a lot of money for the best massage. Why do I feel like you’re about to destroy my chill?”
“It doesn’t take much to destroy your chill, to be honest,” Jordan said.
“I’m not sleeping with Ingrid,” he said.
“Who then?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving.”
“Damn right you are. And don’t let the door hit you on the—”
“I mean, I’m leaving. I told the boys already, we talked about it. I’m moving out west.”
“What? Where?”
“Colette, you can’t tell me to leave, then tell me where I can’t go.”
“What about your kids!?”
“Yeah, well, what about them? You aren’t giving me many options. I said I’d take them with me some of the time. You told me no.”
“Wrong. I told you not a chance in hell.”
“So what am I supposed to do? You have to let me see my kids. I guess you’ll decide when and where. Don’t you always get the final say about when and how and everything? Well, I’m sick of it. I’m done.”
He didn’t take anything besides what he grabbed earlier for the beach. He kept all of his tools and camping gear in his truck, and as it turned out, being the hobo that he was, he didn’t own much else of any great value.
He had nothing more to say to her, but he still fumed inside.
He was welcome nowhere, so he drove and drove until he was too tired to drive anymore. He ended up parked next to Ingrid’s rancid camper.
Just have to say I find your "welcome to your life" tags in your sidebar SO aesthetically pleasing!
ReplyDeleteThere's something about sims named Colette. Mine (actually, maybe she was Collette? It was so long ago!) was also a very prickly sort. I can hardly blame Colette in this particular instance though. I don't know if telling everyone else first was the best move Jordan could have made, even though I understand why he did it. Looking forward to seeing what happens next (as I slowly catch up on your story)!
I have to say, proudly, after attempting several of these kind of blog stories over the years, “welcome to your life” is indeed a bit of a masterpiece of organization. I SO wish I’d done it on my TS2 Lakeside Heights blog. The family name tags never work, because families expand exponentially, or sims marry and change their names. First name tags are the way to go! One tag per sim, from cradle to grave, no names duplicated!
DeleteSo, if Jordan had told Colette first, he wouldn’t have been able to speak with his boys freely—she would have gotten to them first and put ideas in their heads. It was very important to him that he had that conversation first. But I don’t blame Colette for being mad (or, tragically disappointed), either. She was going to be mad either way.
So glad to have you reading again! Enjoy the ride!