My eyebrows rose. “You’re taking this nice pickup off the road on purpose?”
“That’s what trucks are made for,” he countered, easily steering through the illuminated pasture. Small animals scurried out of the light, and I even saw a tuft of black fur with a white stripe down its back. “A skunk!” I cried out excitedly. I’d never seen one in real life before.
Everyone acted like Texas was this big Wild West wonderland, but all I knew of Texas were the cities I’d lived in.
Bryce said, “Hopefully it doesn’t...” Then a strange smell filled the cab. “Spray us.”
“I thought skunk smell was supposed to be the worst in the world?” This wasn’t pleasant, but my eyes weren’t exactly watering either.
“It’s not so bad when it’s dissipating like this, but close up?” He shuddered. “One time, Dad’s old dog Gracie got sprayed, and we thought something had died. Searched the whole damn house for an animal that holed up and rotted, only for her to plop in my lap, stinking to high heaven. She got dish soap and peroxide baths twice a day for a week before the stench went away.”
I chuckled at the thought of Bryce and his four brothers taking turns giving their dog a spa day. “Sounds fun,” I said sarcastically.
“Totally.”
We hit a bump that bounced me nearly out of my seat, and my hand flew to the handle by the door.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured.
“Guess that’s what happens when yougo off the road!”
Chuckling, he said, “Don’t worry. We’ll be there soon.”
I nodded, but kept a firm hold on the handle. I wouldn’t admit it, but it was kind of fun to be exploring like this. In high school and college, I used to go on midnight excursions with my friends, but adult life was different. You worked, you came home. Every now and then, you went to a club and let your hair down for a night. Whimsy and adventure like this were rare. At least, they used to be.
“Here we are,” Bryce said, putting his truck in park.
Looking out my window showed more of the countryside, ghostly in the moonlight, but then I turned and looked out his window and saw a pond with a rowboat resting in the mostly still water. Only a few ripples broke up the surface, reflecting his headlights and a half moon overhead.
He turned off the truck, washing us in silvery darkness.
I pushed the door open, looking in the grass for any hiding skunks before stepping down. Then I glanced up and nearly gasped. I’d never seen so many stars before. They dotted the sky like God had taken a paintbrush, loaded it with white paint, and splattered it at an inky black canvas.
Just then, a streak of light shot across the sky.A shooting star!My lips tipped into a giddy smile. I’d never seen one before!
A deep sense of longing filled me—I’d make sure baby girl got to see things like this in her life too.
Footsteps sounded in the grass before I heard Bryce’s voice near me. “I always miss the stars when I’m in the city.”
I glanced over at him, seeing his head tipped back, moonlight washing out his pale skin. “It’s a different world,” I agreed. I could see why he loved his home so much. The expanse of untouched countryside exuded wonder and magic.
As my gaze slid over him, I noticed a bag hitched over his shoulder. “What’s this?” I gestured at it.
His eyes twinkled like they belonged in the sky. “Part of the surprise.”
52.Bryce
Jada satacross from me in the boat while I rowed us toward the middle of the pond. The wooden oars sliced easily through the water, each drag pulling us farther from the bank.
It was a beautiful night, even if it was a little cold. With no clouds in the sky, we could see all of the heavens overhead, even a streak of closely packed stars making up the Milky Way. Jada had her head tipped up, quietly examining the sky while I moved the boat.
When we got near the middle of the pond and could just float, I pulled in the oars, resting them on the floor of the boat. Only when I said, “I brought hot cocoa,” did she turn her eyes away from the sky.
“Sounds good,” she said with a smile.
I poured us both a mug from the thermos and then took a can of whipped cream and piled it on top. It reminded me of times when our neighbor, Deidre, would babysit us. She had four kids of her own, so she would tell the nine of us to tilt our heads back like baby birds. We had to peep and everything. Then she’d go through an entire can of whipped cream to fill our mouths with so much of the stuff that we couldn’t even tilt our heads forwardto swallow or we’d make a mess. Imagine trying to laugh with our mouths full.
“You seem happy,” Jada commented.
