With this abrupt change of plans, we pack our bags and head to Flagstaff. The drive is quick, familiar. The temperature drops twenty degrees. The altitude raises to 7,000 feet. For the first time, I am there without him.
We wander around downtown, and there is live music. I eat a crepe and visit my future work. The Barnes and Noble there is small, cozy. They tell me to start the transfer paperwork immediately. A music seller is leaving at the end of the summer. I have a place.
We go back downtown and it's alive like Boise. Everyone is out with their dogs, chatter, one million conversations buzz in the air. The live music is good.
I look down at my phone, surf through Facebook. Pictures come up. I stop dead. Everything around me seems to just shut off. Pictures from the lake. New ones. His family has uploaded them. I don't want to look at them, I don't want to see them, but they are there. And he looks so happy. Part of me is glad he looks so happy. I don't feel resentment and I don't feel anger.
But I also don't feel like talking.
We go to the apartment where we're going to crash. Samantha, the girl who lives there, just made cookies. She's watching Friends. The things that make me feel better. Make me feel okay.
This morning, we met with Andrew Madden, the general manager of KJACK. We talked for a good hour over coffee, plans and suggestions and ideas to make KJACK one hell of a radio station. It'll be a project. It'll be exciting progress. I'm excited that other people are excited.
Driving into Flagstaff, I felt in my bones that I was in someone else's territory. But driving out, it felt a little more like my own.
There was a reason to dip out of line at security. Hopefully there will be a reason for this nerve-wracking adventure as well.
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