"We'll have time for that." That was a promise I'd keep. We'd find time. Make it if we had to.
With a sigh he let me go so I could finish packing.
CHAPTER 7
SABLE
"If you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to turn this car around and go back to the city," Woody barked.
Leif and I stopped mid-chorus, looked at each other, and burst out laughing.
"Sorry, Mom," Leif said from where he sat beside me. "We like this song."
"Yeah, but you don't have to sing so loud," Woody checked over his shoulder before changing lanes.
By some miracle, his car wasn't towed away after they left it in a loading zone before coming to find me when the senator and his thugs kidnapped me. It wasn't even vandalized. Woody had gone to get it, driving up in it before we all piled into it with our luggage.
Forrest suggested calling for a car to drive us down, but Woody insisted, saying if it was us and not a driver, there'd be fewer witnesses to see where we were going. It was a tight squeeze, but we managed it. Leif and I sitting in the back, Forrest and Woody in the front.
"You could turn the radio off," Forrest suggested, looking indifferent either way.
"No," Leif and I said in unison.
"We'll sing more softly." For a song or two, before we started up again.
That said, if they played another Billy Joel song, all bets were off. Besides, I'd heard Woody singing along a little more quietly than the rest of us, and I didn't believe he was going to turn around and take us back to the city if he tried. Forrest would shove him out of the car and drive us the rest of the way himself. Or maybe something less dramatic like insisting.
Before we could resume singing, the song ended and was replaced by a news report. I half listened while Leif offered a bag of M&Ms.
I reached in and scooped out a handful. "I can't believe you thought to bring snacks."
He grinned and popped a handful into his mouth. "Someone has to be organized around here."
Forrest both twisted around to look at him.
"Someone has to organize thesnacks," he amended.
"Did you think to bring food?" I asked. He and Woody could raise their eyebrows all they wanted, but neither of them had.
"I know this is a strange concept," Woody said slowly, "but did you know you can buy food outside New York City?"
Leif pretended to look shocked. "For real? Is that how people live in other areas of the country?"
"Not just the country," Woody said. "The entire world. This might come as a shock to you, but some people actually…" he paused for dramatic effect "…grow food."
Leif leaned to the side, his fingertips pressed to his forehead as though trying to contain his own surprise. "They do?"
With a laugh, I said, "Next thing you'll say they farm animals for meat."
"Let's not go crazy here." Leif grinned and dropped his hand to his lap. "We all know chicken and lamb grow on trees," he said.
"You're out of your mind," Woody said.
"We're having fun," Leif told him. "Chicken doesn't really grow on trees."
I arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for the punchline.
"It doesn't grow on bushes either," Woody said, trying to get ahead of whatever Leif might be about to claim.
