Carter wondered if his parents, Jack specifically, were that bad. When he was away from them, the distance and time blurred the slights, but when he was in their presence or was forced to confront his father's expectations and be found lacking, then the pain of being a disappointment burned in his gut. He hated to admit it, but he was happier when he didn't have anything to do with them.
"The night is too nice to sit here," Carter said, standing up abruptly. "Let's go for a drive."
"Where?" Allie asked, sounding skeptical.
"Around," he said. "A little joyriding is good for the soul."
"I'm not using my car for that," she hissed.
Carter smirked and grabbed her hand.
"We’re not taking your car."
He led her down a path. The air was freezing, and she only had on her long-sleeved T-shirt and the blanket to keep her warm.
"I hope you’re not expecting me to give you my jacket," Carter remarked. "It's my only one, and I’m not the chivalrous type."
"I’m not that cold," Allie said, gritting her teeth. "I’m from Minnesota. I just got too used to North Carolina, I suppose."
Carter pulled open a heavy door to one of the outbuildings on his uncle's property. Inside, there was a double row of pristinely restored vintage cars.
"Oh, wow," she said. "Are these yours?"
"My uncle’s," Carter replied. "He’s a bit of a car aficionado. Pick the one you like best."
He watched her slowly walk through the rows of shiny automobiles. She stopped in front of a vintage 1926 Bentley. Carter had always liked it because this particular model featured in one of his favorite books.
"All ready for the apocalypse?" Carter asked.
She smiled. "And he reads."
Carter jumped into the car, and Allie sank into the deep seat next to him.
"It's British made," Carter said, "so the steering wheel is on the wrong side."
"This is so cool," she said.
"Let's take it for a spin," he said, grinning at her.
"Oh no, I'm not going to jail for grand theft," she said.
Carter ignored her and revved the engine.
"Perfect," he said, and they roared out of the garage and down the long drive to the main road.
He felt like a teenager in one of those movies from the sixties. Cruising around in an immaculate car, a good-looking girl who seemed to care about him in the seat next to him.
He drove them to the waterfront, and they watched the snow fall over the bay. Carter told her about the history of the town, how it was a whaling then fishing and manufacturing town.
"The wealth then moved to various investment endeavors," he told her. "There are families here who can trace their lineage back to the founding fathers."
"Can you?"
"Not exactly," he admitted. "Maybe there was a marriage or two several generations back, but really, I’m not that great."
She smiled at him in the dark. "You know, you really are impressive," she told him. "Don't sell yourself short."
It meant a lot to hear that from her, and he felt more pleased than he should be.
