Page 45 of Dandelions and Smoke

For once, Billy doesn’t automatically chime back with a joke. He’s quiet for a second, like he’s pondered this same question many times before.

“Have fun, old man,” he calls up, snapping out of it, before disappearing down below.

“Oh my goodness, stop.” Rory bounces in her seat, turning in every direction as my truck slowly makes its way through the winter wonderland display leading to the movie screens. “This is amazing.”

Her joy is contagious. Smiling, I watch her light up as she takes in the twinkling lights, creating a luminous tunnel around us. They blink while Christmas carols play, crackling over the vintage speakers spread throughout the drive. If there’s one thing you can count on in a small town, it’s that we don’t do anything small at all. Every inch of this path has been accounted for, mapped out, and decorated. As the truck emerges from the twinkling tunnel, more lights sparkle in the shape of snowflakes spinning as they cascade from the surrounding trees.

Rory’s electric-blue eyes dart across the row of glowing vintage blow-mold Santas and snowmen. Their faded plastic faces smile under the trees. Over to my side, a newer-looking Santa’s sleigh is being led by beautifully lit and lifted reindeer. They wrap up and around the trees, the kinetic lights giving them the illusion that they’re actually flying. At the front, there’s one red light that never falters.

“Ha, it’s Rudolph!” Rory says, leaning closely, pointing up to make sure I don’t miss it. “That’s so clever. Do you get it? His light stays on because even during the ‘one foggy Christmas Eve,’” she sings, “his nose led the way.”

“That’s very clever,” I answer her, grinning.

Her eyes narrow playfully at me as she swats my arm. “It is!”

“That’s what I said.” I laugh as her brow hitches like she doesn’t believe my enthusiasm for one second.

Using one hand to steer, I slide my other one into hers, and immediately her expression unravels into something softer. After several character scenes and a few more lit-up tunnels, I pull my truck into a parking spot and begin adjusting my radio to the correct station for our screen. Rory watches me with a fixed fascination mixed with wonder and intrigue.

“I take it you’ve never been to a drive-in before?” I say, scanning the stations until my speakers begin to play the same holiday music being broadcast on the speakers outside.

“That’s so cool,” she muses, like she didn’t even hear me.

“Have you ever-” I start, but find myself smiling as she interrupts before I can finish, like she’s just processed my question.

“I’ve always wanted to go to a drive-in, but I never got around to it when I was living near Tampa. There was one out in Ruskin.” Her head tilts as she recalls the information.

She must notice the clueless look on my face, even as I nod, because her head dips.

“Sorry, that’s about twenty-five minutes South. It would have been so easy to get in Miss Daisy and go, but there was always something important I had to do or something else I thought I needed to spend my time on. Usually, that meant work or taking care of my mom. I didn’t use my free time very well, or maybe I did,” she says, too fast, like her thoughts are racing ahead. “Plus, it’s not like I had anyone to go with when I was living there. I guess I forgot all about it by the time Lucas found me. I’ll have to tell everyone. I’m sure they’d love to do something like that with the team.”

I can practically see her mind formulating the plan right in front of me as her gaze sweeps over the cars around us, and she sees everyone setting up. Her face drops as something dawns on her.

“Do we have to sit outside?” she asks, her eyes wide and fixed on a couple sitting on their tailgate.

I laugh out loud, bringing her attention back to me. “It’s as though you think I don’t know you at all.”

She furrows her brow once more, and I shake my head, trying not to laugh again as her shoulders relax.

“I would never make you sit outside in this cold,” I tease her, because for the first week of December here in Turtle Bay, having it only be a low of thirty degrees tonight is actually on the warmer side.

“There is something very wrong with you all that this is socially accepted as normal.” Her brows furrow as she stares at couples choosing to leave the warmth of their vehicles, like they’re subjects worth running experiments on.

As she continues to take it all in, I sit back, content to watch her. If she notices, she doesn’t mind. Previews for other holiday favorites begin to play on the screen along with vintage drive-in commercials featuring dancing hot dogs, soda cups, and popcorn bags. Beside me, Rory is quiet now, watching like she’s in a trance. Once the commercial ends, I pick up where we left off.

“After a while, you get used to the cold.”

“That is a lie that people who move here tell themselves, and there is nothing you can say that will change my mind,” she says with a chuckle, turning her body toward me now, her fingers pointing and arms flailing as she explains passionately. “I’m telling you, years from now, you can ask me what I think of this weather, and I will still argue that this is way too cold for any sane person.”

Her words, “years from now,” echo in my mind, spreading a warmth through me that isn’t coming from the vents on my dashboard or the weather. I smirk, looking away, out my windshield, and at everyone here enjoying themselves as they sit outside, braving the elements.

“Alright,” I say finally, squeezing her hand. “I will.”

She smiles an almost shy smile, which is unlike her, as she catches the meaning behind my words and squeezes my hand back.

“It’s nice getting to do this together,” I murmur before adding, “and I’m glad in a way this is both our first time. It makes it special.”

“You’ve definitely been to a drive-in before,” she quickly replies, her head jerking back, waiting for me to explain myself.