He had no idea what hard thing she was carrying, but he did know that Melissa and Eli Lawson didn’t raise a quitter.
He was going to be the man who stayed.
Whatever it was.
The drive home from Crawfordville was a lot less fun than the drive there, when they’d been sandwiched between their motorcycle motorcade and the truck, so Maggie didn’t have to think about how to get where they were going.
Getting back was harder, but Maggie took it slow and easy, still feeling the glow of a long, late night that had been nothing but fun.
They’d slept upstairs in the rental rooms at Gator Jack’s from about four a.m. to nearly eleven this morning. Brick had made them brunch, packed a cooler for the road, and the whole crew had sent them off with cheers and waves.
Every once in a while, Jo Ellen giggled, sighed, and shifted in her seat murmuring things like, “That was so much fun!” and “I haven’t felt this young in years.”
Finally, Maggie put her hand on Jo Ellen’s arm and pressed. “I need you to swear something.”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
“Then swear never, ever to tell a human being about last night.”
“Oh, Mags. Brick knew. Charlene obviously knew. The whole place probably knew when the Monkees came on.”
Maggie bit her lip. Oh, she was a believer last night. She was Micky Dolenz reincarnated last night. “But no one who matters knows.”
Jo Ellen gasped. “Brick matters!”
“In ourfamily,” she ground out.
Next to her, Jo leaned back and gave another giggle.
“Now what?”
“You said family—singular. Don’t you think that’s…amazing?”
“I think it’s…”Interesting. “Marijuana brain.”
Jo Ellen snorted. “Fine. The secret is safe with me. What happens in the storeroom with Acapulco Gold stays there.”
“Promise?”
“I swear on the Tri-Delt sisterhood.” She held up her pinky. “And our family.”
Smiling, Maggie crooked her baby finger in Jo Ellen’s, relieved to have that taken care of.
“But we can talk about it, right?” Jo Ellen asked after less than five seconds had passed. “Just the two of us when we want to remember?”
“Yes, but I’m…” Maggie swallowed and glanced at her. “Jo, I know you’re fun-loving and maybe a little reckless, but I’m not, okay? I’m a little embarrassed that I did pot?—”
“No one says that anymore.”
“Especially us,” Maggie shot back. “Anyway, something deep inside feels like it might have been wrong.”
“It’s legal in most states!” Jo Ellen insisted. “And it’s natural. From a plant! Everyone says it’s better for you than wine.” She leaned in. “I asked Oscar.”
“You told Oscar?”
“Mags, it’s an AI robot on my phone, not an actual person.”
Maggie sniffed. “I still don’t want him—it—to know. Authorities could, you know, read those messages. Please. I only have shreds of dignity left.”
