And I do.
“Distract me,” I beg.
My mouth is so dry that my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I chug a few gulps of coffee, but it’s tasteless and unfulfilling.
“Um...oh, remember when we used to toilet paper the Monroe’s house?” His thumb rubs over my knuckles. “You always had the best aim.”
I smile slightly. “I remember.”
It probably shouldn’t be a fond memory, but it is. The mean ol’ witch is one of three founding families of Rocosa, and she thought that made her the queen of the mountain. Her uppity attitude has only gotten worse with age. Now she’s thepresident of the Historical Society and delights in preventing any improvements she doesn’t agree with. I guess every town has its problem child, but in Rocosa, it’s an old lady.
“Remember how mad she’d get? Storming outside in her flannel bathrobe and shaking her fist at the sky?”
“Then she’d holler for ten minutes straight, demanding justice and that the police chief better come clean up her yard.” I turn to grin at him. “But no, she had to clean it herself. That was the best part of it all. It was the most I ever saw her lift a finger.”
He matches my smile. “Not sure how you convinced me to participate each year.”
“It was tradition. How could we not?” Since my freshman year of high school, we pranked Mrs. Monroe for April Fools’ Day. Des thought it was childish, but Tristen always joined in. Even the townsfolk sent their support, leaving toilet paper at our trailer.
“It was nice to blow off some steam. Why did we stop?”
“Granny had a heart attack,” I say, the phrase still odd even years later. When Des went off to college, she was diagnosed with coronary artery disease after her first heart attack at bingo. She was okay for a bit, weak, and then the months of heart tests began. Until one day, she went to sleep and never woke up.
With the many ways a person can pass, I’m thankful it was peacefully in her sleep.
“Oh, Reese.” He grimaces, slapping a hand to his forehead. “I’m not sure if I’m helping you much here.”
“You are,” I say, my voice wobbling with emotion.
“Good.”
His thumb rubs across the skin of my hand, sending delicious goosebumps up my arm. I quickly pull away before he notices.
An awkward silence settles between us for a minute or two before he speaks again.
“I know you’re upset, but I thought since I had the time off and my bag was already packed, it would be helpful if I tagged along. You said you needed an extra pair of hands with the broken dinette.” He lifts his hands, wiggling his fingers. “I have a pair right here.”
“I know what I said. The point is that you didn’t ask me first. For once, I’d like to be included in a decision like I’m an adult.”
He glances at his fidgeting hands, unable to hold my gaze. “I worry about you.” The confession is soft, but the next one is even softer. “Maybe more than I should.”
“I know. And while I appreciate you always looking out for me, I don’t like that I’m not in control of my life. You have to trust me at some point.”
“But if it’s in my power to help, why shouldn’t I?” His eyes meet mine.
“Because sometimes it’s my mountain to climb.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh. “Look, we are stuck on this trip together no matter how much I complain. We’ll have to compromise or we’ll argue until we are blue in the face. From now on, we are a team.”
“Got it.”
“No more bossing me around or making decisions without telling one another, okay?”
“Okay. Ready for me to fix your earbuds?”
I hold them out for him. “Yes, please.”
He holds a button down, and a green light flashes on the device and pairs to my phone. “Fixed. What about us? Are we good too?”
“As much as we can be, I guess.” I shrug. “Now, I’m going to get lost in this audiobook, so don’t interrupt me until we’re in Amarillo.”
