Chapter 25
“It’s pronounced ‘pee can.’”
-Flint
The last thing I needed was to be trapped in a car with Celia over the next twelve hours. Scratch that. That’s thesecond-to-last thingI needed. The last thing I needed was to be headed toward my hometown.
But Celia didn’t know that when she suggested our little weekend getaway.
“Do you need to stop for a rest area?” Celia interrupted my train of thought as she pointed to the blue sign.
That was code for Celia needed to stop for a rest area. I learned that one hour into the trip. This woman had a bladder the size of a walnut.
“Hey! You try giving birth to twins sometime and see what that does to your bladder!” Celia huffed at me.
Shit. I must have said that last part out loud.
“Sorry, Ceel,” I pointed the car off the interstate and into the rest area’s parking lot. “It’s been a while since I road-tripped with anyone else.”
She sniffed, pulled a paper towel off the roll in the backseat, then took off toward the women’s restroom. I got out of the car, surveyed the landscape, then headed into the men’s room. Might as well take the break when I get it.
After doing my business and washing my hands, I realized the only way to dry my hands were air dryers that had no pressure or hot air todryyour hands. No paper towels. I wiped my hands on my jeans and stepped out of the restroom, where I found Celia waiting for me.
“Why didn’t you take a paper towel with you?” Celia raised an eyebrow at my wet pants. “That’s what they’re there for.”
I grunted but said nothing else as I walked back to the car behind her. I may have made fun of her just a little bit when she got in the vehicle this morning. In addition to her suitcase, she had a reusable grocery bag full of snacks, another with a Keurig coffee maker in it, and that roll of paper towels. I asked her how many days she planned to stay in Mississippi.
She frowned at me. “You never know what will happen on a road trip. Or what kind of amenities will be had when we get there. What if there’s a huge standstill on the interstate, and we can’t get to a restaurant or a restroom? What if we find a hotel when we get where we’re going, and they don’t have decent coffee within a 20-mile radius?”
Those were all valid points. Points that I never thought about, because quite frankly, when you’re a Marine, you suck it up. No coffee shop? Make do with instant or none at all. Have to take a piss? You got the side of the road and trees.
Not Celia. She brought along an empty plastic coffee can and baby wipes. Just in case we couldn’t make it to a restroom, and she had to pee. When I pointed out she could easily pee on the side of the road, she responded with a raised eyebrow.
And that was the end of that.
We hadn’t even made it to the Florida-Alabama state line yet, and her silent treatment has been legendary today.
Too bad my dick was into that sort of thing. He was a glutton for punishment. The quieter she was, the more she let out those exasperated sighs, the harder he got. It was getting uncomfortable.
My phone rang, interrupting the silence. I looked at the dash - Rand.
I hit the handsfree button on the steering wheel, but before I could say anything, Rand’s verbal diarrhea came spewing out of the speakers.
“What’s up,numbnuts? You were right about the selenium! How were you right about the selenium? Actually, I don’t really want to know how you know about the selenium. The only thing you need to know is, you were right about the selenium.”
“So, I was…wrong… about the selenium?” I couldn’t help poking him a little.
“Motherfucker, you going to make me repeat it? You. Were. Right. About. The. Selenium!” Rand yelled into the speakers. Celia flinched.
When she flinched, I flinched. “Uh, dude. Yeah. Sorry. Shoulda told you, I’m not alone in the car.”
Rand cleared his throat. “Um. Sorry. Sir. That was unprofessional. My apologies. Sir.”
Celia chuckled. “Rand, it’s just Celia. Your… enthusiasm… is safe with me.”
I heard Rand sigh with relief.
“A selenium overdose killed Killer,” I explained to Celia.
