I glance at Kerrigan, waiting for her to say it. She knows I'm waiting, so she whispers, "He can service me."
Christopher offers a friendly parting wave and walks toward his truck. He's halfway there when he throws a glance over his shoulder at Kerrigan.
"That's all the encouragement I need," she says, hustling after him.
"She's a trip," Dom says. He pulls me in close. "Do you have a thing for cowboys?"
"Who doesn't?" I tease.
His eyes narrow, leaning close until his breath streams against the shell of my ear. "Do you think you're funny, Mrs. Bellinger?"
A shiver trips down my spine, and it's not from the snow. "I do."
"We'll see how funny you can be later when your mouth is too full to make jokes."
I pat his chest playfully. "Promises, promises."
We load up into the RV, Kerrigan the last person in. Her cheeks are pink, and when I catch sight of myself in a window, I see mine are too. The cold, probably.
"Did you give him your number?"
"Yes," she answers, flinging herself into a chair. "It wasn't until I opened my mouth to talk to him that I considered he might have a girlfriend. But I figured, what the hell? I'd regret it if I didn't shoot my shot."
"It seems like it went well," Dom says. We're back in the same spots we vacated when we got stuck.
Kerrigan pushes her hair off her face. "I told him if it all works out, it would be a great story to tell our grandkids one day."
Dom coughs on the bottle of water he grabbed from the fridge before sitting down.
"Kidding," Kerrigan adds.
Duke's driving again, pulling out onto the interstate. Kerrigan looks at me. "What do you think about everything Duke said back there?"
"I think I'm still processing," I answer, giving my brother a once-over. For the first time since this road trip began Duke's shoulders are lower, his demeanor more relaxed.
Kerrigan looks with me, then turns her appraising eyes on our dad in the passenger seat. He is silent, sitting rigidly.
I look around and realize my mom is not sitting where she was before. "Where is Mom?"
Kerrigan points toward the bedroom. "She said she needed to lie down."
"Maybe the champagne got to her."
"Or maybe it was her oldest child."
"There you go again, Kerr, saying something that makes a whole lot of sense."
"Your brother shocked her," Grandma says, coming from the bedroom. "Neither one of you talk as quietly as you think you do. You never have. When you'd stay the night with me when you were little, I'd turn out the lights at bedtime and listen to you two gab for hours."
Kerrigan and I share a smile. Those nights were the best, and they usually meant we got out of whatever boring event our parents were trying to make us attend. We would beg and plead and cajole and if that wasn't enough, we'd call in the big guns: Savage Grandma. It isn't until now that I realize Duke is not a part of those memories because he was dutifully showing up for our parents the way they expected him to. Taking one for the team. I never stopped to consider whether Duke wanted to be there.
Without thinking too much more about it, I'm up from my seat and moving toward the front of the RV.
"Dad?" When he looks at me I ask, "Do you mind if I take a turn as passenger?"
He unbuckles and gets up, and I step aside for him to pass. He's quieter than usual, not only in a lack of speaking, but there's a quality about him I can't identify.
"Congratulations." I buckle my seat belt and prop my bare feet on the dash.
