“Hey,” she says as soon as she sees me. “Where are we going?
I smirk as I wait for her to slide into her seat. “What part ofsurprisedon’t you understand?”
A puff of laughter leaks out of her lips. “You’re lucky I trust you.”
“I am lucky.” I whole heartily agree and shut her door before running around to my side of the vehicle. I hop in and shift the car into drive. The sound of the tires crunching over the parking lot snow fills the silence before I sneak a sideways glance at her. “I feel like I’m seventeen again with all this sneaking around.”
“Sorry.” Her tone is soft. “I wish I could be more free-spirited about things. I don’t know how Noah would feel if he knew I was with you. This feels like it’s his business.”
I glance at her, serious now. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.” She peers at me with lifted eyebrows, perhaps asking me to prove my understanding. “I mean it. I totally get it. You don’t want to upset him, but honestly? I don’t think he’d care. I think back to when I was his age, I had my own goals, but I absolutely wanted my loved ones to be happy too. He’s not a little boy anymore. I’m sure he’ll understand that you need a life.”
She turns to the window, and I stop talking, as it seems like I might have said a little too much. I don’t mean to insert myself into her business. It’s clear she’s thinking about her son, which is a wonderful thing, but she needs to know that, sometimes, she can think about herself too, especially now that Noah’s out of high school.
A song starts on the radio ticking into an 80’s beat that I recognize immediately as a Tina Turner classic.
Ruth’s lips twitch. “I remember this song,” she begins with words seeped in laughter. “I wore that wig to a party once.”
“You think that’s funny?” I grin as I decide whether or not to tell the truth, but it’s so easy to be myself around her, and I dare. “Here’s my confession. I had her poster in my room.”
Her jaw drops into a fake gasp as she whispers, “No.”
“My mom joked it was the biggest hair on the wall. It was in between a poster of Casey Jones from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and my first broken stick that I mounted like it was a trophy.
She covers her mouth, laughing. “I hate to say it, but you’re ruining your image. You had me fooled. I thought you had class.”
“Nah, not ruining it at all.” I chuckle while keeping my eyes on the road. “I’m very versatile. Plus, that was what, the late 80’s or early 90’s me, when I was like ten or maybe twelve? What else was I supposed to be obsessed with then?” I offer a relaxed shrug and drive.
Because right now, this is enough. I don’t need to talk. Every few seconds I catch her lips twitch like she’s struggling not to sing along. She obviously knows all the lyrics, but she’s pretending to be cool, and it’s adorable.
When I turn onto the old frontage road that leads around the railroad tracks, she glances at me while lifting a suspicious eyebrow. “Okay, you totally lost me. Where are we going?”
“Remember we talked about how this is a surprise?”
“Right, and did I tell you I don’t really like surprises?” She chuckles before she adds, “I would be fine if you ruined it for me.”
I take the final turn, making sure to drive in an arc that allows my headlights to sweep across the faded sign forMapleton Drive-In. The field is dark and covered with a few inches offrozen snow, as it’s long since closed for good. I park under one of the old speaker boxes that’s partially capped with snow.
Her gaze flicks to the large screen, then back at me. “I’m so confused. This place is condemned. What are we doing here? Also”—she holds up her index finger as if she needs to make an important point— “if that screen turns on, I’ll need you to race out of here because it’s clearly haunted.”
I can’t help but laugh as I reach behind the seat and pull up a to-go bag with the JD’s wings logo on the front. “We wanted some place private but not, and some place public, but not. This is the best I got.”
She lets out a surprised laugh. “Oh, wow, you really did deliver on that, didn’t you?”
“I’m a man of my word.”
“You’re also incredibly sneaky.”
“I’m versatile, remember?”
She shakes her head, and her smile grows even wider as she gazes out the window. “So, are you sure we should be here? It’s clearly not open.”
Cajun seasoning aroma escapes the bag as soon as I open it. I take my time neatly pulling out a stack of napkins for her and one for me, and then hand her a box, which she takes with wide eyes. “Only the finest, late-night-illegal-chicken operation in town.”
She snorts, popping the lid on the box. “Seriously, so you just admitted we shouldn’t be here. Like we can get in trouble.”
“It’s fine.” Part of me wants to let the excitement of trespassing linger as it has a way of making this feel a little more exciting, but I’m not one to be cruel. “I actually own this plot of land. When they closed it down, the city was going to demolish everything and turn it into a new development for lots. I got all sentimental and decided to buy it, so they wouldn’t wreck it.”
“Seriously?” Two little lines wrinkle on the top of her nose. I’m not sure if I ever noticed them before, but they are cute. “Are you planning to reopen it?”
