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“Now every car is different about where they put the release button for the gas tank,” I explained. “It’s generally going to be on the left side, either on the floor or under the dash. See the little gas pump icon?”

“Yeah.”

“Press that button, then the door pops open here,” I said, pointing it out. “Then you unscrew the gas cap, put the nozzle in like this, press the button for which gas you want – and you usually want the lowest octane because it’s the cheapest – then you press the lever to pump the gas.”

“Let me try,” Blair said.

I put the nozzle back and let her start from scratch. After being briefly stymied by how to click the lever to make the gas pump on its own, she successfully filled the tank. It was cute how proud of herself she was. Then we headed inside where I spent a full ten minutes explaining what most of the snacks were.

We left with two sodas, two bottles of water, and an assortment of snacks that Blair wanted to try including Twizzlers, M&Ms, corn nuts, Cool Ranch Doritos, two Snickers bars, and a jumbo sized package of Reese’s peanut butter cups.

Blair tore into the snacks as soon as I pulled away, despite the fact that she’d just consumed most of an enormous omelet with hash browns and bacon and a side of pancakes, as well as that chocolate shake. And the giant coffee drink a few hours earlier. I shook my head in bemusement. When this woman did something, she really threw herself into it.

I only hoped she didn’t make herself sick.

Blair

“What’s wrong?”

I must have moaned out loud. Wrapping my arm around my belly, I whispered, “It’s possible that I ate too much today.”

Jenny smirked. “I had a feeling that might happen. There are antacids in the glove compartment. I picked some up when we were at the gas station.”

“Thanks.”

I poured a few out into my palm and chewed them slowly as I willed my stomach to stop rebelling. Rocking back and forth, I tried to breathe through the discomfort. Damn it, this was my own fault. I shouldn’t have binged on so many different foods in such a short time.

“Do you wanna stop somewhere? Use the bathroom? Get a ginger ale?”

“I think I’ll be okay,” I said weakly.

I changed my mind five minutes later. “Pull over,” I blurted. “Pull over.”

Jenny expertly steered to the side of the freeway, pulling off on the shoulder. The instant the car stopped I pushed open the door, but the seatbelt held me back. Before I could register what I needed to do to fix the situation, Jenny unfastened me and I practically fell out of the car, racing around to the back to release the contents of my stomach.

At some point I became aware of Jenny standing behind me, rubbing my back while I hunched over puking in full view of the dozens of cars that whipped by. If I didn’t feel so terrible I would have been embarrassed. But it was nice to have someone take care of me. For all her over-protectiveness, my mother wasn’t exactly the nurturing sort.

“You feel better?” she asked when I finally stopped retching.

I nodded. “I think so.”

“We’ll stop at the next exit so you can get cleaned up and grab a ginger ale.”

“Thank you.”

After our impromptu stop I fell asleep, exhausted from being sick. When I woke up the sun was setting and my head was resting against the window. Hopefully, I hadn’t been snoring.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked as I sat up and stretched my neck.

“An hour and a half, maybe more.”

“Wow, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Jenny asked, throwing me a quick glance before returning her attention to the road. “You were sick. Besides, I’m your driver here. I don’t expect you to entertain me the whole trip.”

Jenny was surprisingly chill. Or maybe I’d spent too many years living with people who judged me for every single mistake.

“Really? Because I can be really entertaining when I want to be,” I joked. “How long until we get to Butte do you think?”