And just like that, I start breathing again.
Because Daphne took care of paying cash to get the pump started, and hearing her voice reminds me where I am.
Namely, in a place where it doesn’t matter anymore what happens to Miles2Go.
I did my part, and I can’t control the rest.
Not if I want to live my life for me instead of for my family’s legacy.
I fill the car, lock it, and head inside for the restroom and snacks.
Daphne’s balancing two quart-size cups with rounded plastic lids and a canvas tote bag that she’s filling with more or less every item from the chip aisle.
“Save some for everyone else,” I say as I join her.
“They have a truck around back right now getting more.” She tilts her head toward the counter, winces, rolls her shoulder, and then looks back at me. “Driver was stuck in the same traffic we were.”
She finishes grabbing the last of the Lava Cheese Puffs, then circles the aisle and heads toward the checkout counter, pausing briefly to stare at the display of stuffed Cupholders.
The hermit crab.
Miles2Go’s mascot.
“Don’t even think about it,” I mutter to her.
“I miss my lobster.” She shrugs, then winces again. “She’s soft.”
It takes a second, but then— “You have an emotional support stuffed lobster?”
“Better to sleep with than a brass polar bear.”
She heads to the counter.
I hesitate, then grab one of the stupid stuffed crabs, even though I know it’ll give me nightmares. As I’m heading to the counter too, I spot a display next to the door full of products I recognize all too well.
Wasn’t often my executive assistant outright ordered me around—normally she’d bring me a problem, I’d ask her opinion, she’d give it to me, and I’d do what she suggested—but a few months ago, she marched into my office and informed me that every M2G location on the planet needed to sell these.
I grab two and trail after Daphne.
She’s emptying the cloth tote on the counter next to the two Landslides.
Chips, nut bars, pistachios, meat sticks, gum, and more random items tumble out of the tote.
The clerk eyes her, then me, then gets busy scanning it all.
I wait until most of Daphne’s selections are back in the bag before adding my purchases.
Daphne glances at the crab, then me, then the crab again.
My ears get hot.
I’m not bribing her with an emotional support crustacean.
I’m—hell.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
Giving her another peace offering?
