Carrie And Me: A Mother-Daughter Love Story Part 24

"Coffee?"

The cowboy begins to answer, thinks better of it, and looks to Kate who says, "With cream."

The cowboy smiles at the waitress. "Make that two."

As the waitress heads for the counter Kate digs around in her bag, finds her cigarettes, lights one, exhales, looks at the cowboy for a good long time, and finally says, "Who the h.e.l.l are you?"

"Franklin Marshall Taylor, at your service. My friends call me F.M."

Kate inhales from her cigarette deeply, "How did I get here?"

"I drove you, Ma'am."

Kate scowls. "Look, I don't know who you are or what I'm doing here, but I'd sure appreciate it if you'd take me back to Hollywood. If not, I'll scream so loud it'll blast your b.a.l.l.s off."

A moment later the waitress breaks the tension by bringing their coffee and setting it down. "What can I getcha?"

F.M. gestures to Kate. Keeping her eyes fixed on him, she answers, "Nothing. Coffee's fine."

"What about you, mister?"

"I'll have two eggs scrambled, white toast, two strips of bacon, and orange juice."

The waitress takes the menus and leaves. F.M. looks at Kate. "You should eat something. We have a long road ahead of us."

"We don't have anything, cowboy. I am going to the bathroom. When I return, I want you to have that truck of yours fired up and ready to head back to Hollywood. Comprende?" She abruptly gets up, taking her bag, and heads to the john.

She's was.h.i.+ng her face at the sink with the pink granulated soap favored in truck stops when their waitress enters the bathroom and looks at Kate.

"Hey."

"Hi." Kate continues was.h.i.+ng last night's makeup off her face.

The waitress gets out her compact, lipstick, and a teasing comb. "Rough night?"

"Apparently." Kate dumps her bag on the counter. Cigarettes, coins, matches, sc.r.a.ps of paper, a drawing pad, pencils, a small wallet, and a cell phone that is on but indicates no service. Its battery is very low. She begins gathering up the change.

The waitress smiles at Kate in the mirror. "Well, I think it's terrific."

"What's terrific?"

"Your trip!"

Kate looks at her, puzzled. "My trip?"

The waitress is looking in her compact, piling on the lipstick. "Yeah. You and the cowboy! I've always wanted to see Graceland. I saw Elvis in '72 in Vegas. He was just starting to get fat, you know, but boy, that man still packed a wallop! I was just a kid then, but I would've dropped everything if he'd given me the word. But, honey, that man of yours? Hoo-wee! Now that's what I call a hunk. Puts Brad Pitt to shame if you ask me. I'd hang on to that one if I was you. How long you two been together?" She turns around, but Kate is no longer there.

Kate looks around the restaurant. The booth where she and F.M. sat is now empty, the busboy clearing the remains of his half-eaten breakfast off the table. She looks out the window and sees him standing by the pickup truck. She marches out the front door and right past him to a phone booth.

Kate picks up the phone and inserts a handful of change. She listens as the phone rings and rings, until finally a tired-sounding male voice answers.

" 'Lo?"

"Jack, it's me!"

"Okay. I give up. Me who?"

"It's Kate. a.s.shole ... it's Kate!"

"Jesus, Kate. It's nine in the morning. Call me back later."

"Jack, wait! I'm in trouble!"

"Are you in jail?"

"No. I'm in ... to tell you the truth, I don't know where I am. I think I'm still in California. I got s.h.i.+t-faced last night at the Burgundy, and this morning I wake up in the f.u.c.king desert somewhere, in a pickup truck with some freakin' cowboy, my cell phone doesn't work, and he wants to take me to Graceland."

"Yeah. Okay. So what's the problem?"

"Well, you need to come get me!"

"s.h.i.+t, Kate. It's practically the middle of the night, you don't know where you are, but you're with some guy, and you want me to come get you?"

"Dammit, Jack. I need your help. I'm not kidding."

"Oh, so now you need me? Little Miss 'I can take care of myself' wants me to drop everything to help her out?"

"Jack, please. I don't have time for this. Just write down this number, call me right back, and we'll figure out the best way to work this out. Please?"

"Why don't you have the Lone Ranger ride you back here on Silver?"

"I'm trying to tell you, I don't know this guy!"

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to get to know him on the wagon train to Memphis."

Then Kate hears a woman's voice, heavy with drowsiness, talking to Jack. "Who is it, honey?" Jack replies, "n.o.body. Go back to sleep."

"Jack ... ?"

"Later, Kate. This isn't a good time."

The line is dead. Kate bangs the phone down, then reaches into the slot for change. A nickel comes back. She bangs the receiver again, but no more money comes out. While she's frantically searching her bag for more change there's a tap on the door. It's F.M.

"What do you want?"

"You need more change?" He hands her several quarters. She looks at him, and he smiles. He is good-looking, and he's probably playing it for all he's worth. She grabs the change, pulls the door closed, loads up the phone, and dials. After four rings an answering machine comes on. Seventies p.o.r.n music plays behind a woman's sultry voice. "This is Martine. I'm surfing p.o.r.n sites so I can't come to the phone right now. I'm not in the mood to return calls, so don't bother leaving a message. Oh, yeah. Don't forget to have a nice day." Beeep.