‘Yeah,’ he slapped the dashboard. ‘She’d an old bird, but she’s a fighter.’
‘You named your car?’
‘Sure, why not?’
‘Because it’s weird!’
‘How so? She’s got a character. The least she deserves is a name!’
‘Fair, I suppose.’
They lapsed into silence for a while, but it was comfortable, companionable. The roads were empty, the sun now fully risen, and driving had almost become a pleasure. She changed gear, leaving her hand on the gear stick and settling back into a more comfortable position now that she could relax.
Unexpectedly, Brad’s hand covered hers, squeezed gently, affectionately. Then, just as quickly, retreated.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Wasn’t thinking.’
She gave him a sideways glance.
‘Just,’ he said, ‘I guess I’m proud of you.’
‘What are you, my dad?’ she joked, instantly regretting it.
‘No, I— I mean, you had this setback, but you picked yourself up. Not many people can do that.’
‘I had quite a bit of encouragement,’ she said, glancing at him again.
He was looking at her with his clear, honest eyes. ‘Sure. But still.’
‘I appreciate it, you know.’
‘What?’
‘The encouragement.’ She sighed, shifted gears into fourth as they neared a bend. ‘I’m sorry that I find it so difficult to… respond to it.’
‘Britishness?’
‘Yeah, a bit. But also… well, shit childhood.’
‘I get it. More than you know, probably.’ He fell silent.
‘Sorry to hear that,’ she said into the empty air.
‘Yeah. Anyway, though, I— I’m getting it all wrong. I’m trying to say I’m impressed, I guess.’
‘Impressed?’ There it was again, the incredulity, knocking back his compliment.
‘Yeah. And… I guess in more than just a business sense.’
Another glance and she was surprised to see Brad looking flushed. Was he actually embarrassed?
‘I guess—’ he continued. ‘I mean, what I want to say is that I like you. You know?’
‘Oh.’
‘I know. Stupid, right?’
‘Not at all!’ Something fluttered inside, as if a bird were beating its wings in her chest. As if something dormant had woken at his words. ‘I mean, it’s good. It’s fine.’
