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I adjusted my mirror. “I already found a place midway. No nuts in the kitchen, I called.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Her flip-flop fell off and she tucked her foot under her on the seat.

I felt her looking at me as I pulled away from the curb. “What?”

She was laughing at my face again.

“Stop.”

“I want you to know that I am fighting for my life over here. This is going to be a very long drive for you.”

“You know what that little girl did when she was doing it?” I asked. “What she was saying as I was being defaced?”

“What?”

“She was narrating, like she was doing one of those makeup tutorials?”

“You are a saint. Besides the permanent marker, how’s work been?”

I let out a long breath. Not good? “Yesterday I got yelled at by a ninety-year-old woman who wanted me to fill a prescription for quaaludes that she found in her house from 1972,” I said.

“No…” she said.

“Yes. Then a guy asked me to help him pick out a cortisone cream for a bug bite. I came out to help him and we’re in the aisle and he shows me his calf—it’s swollen and streaked. He’s got cellulitis.” I turned onto the highway. “I told him he needed to get to the ER immediately if he wanted to save his leg and he told me to go fuck myself.”

She shook her head. “Why are they always telling you to go fuck yourself?”

“Because I work retail pharmacy? People are sick and injured, coming in to pay hundreds of dollars on medicine they wish they didn’t need. They’re already in a shitty mood.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said, petting Woofarine.

“I’m used to it.” I was used to more than I liked to admit.

We stopped for gas. I pumped and she went inside. My phone rang while I was leaning against my car. Mike.

“Hey, what’s up?” I said, answering.

“Where the fuck you two at? You kidnap my girlfriend or what?”

He was drinking. Not drunk, but definitely drinking. This wasn’t really noteworthy—we all drank at the cabin—but it was only 9:00 a.m.

I glanced at Larissa in the Circle K. “We had to stop to get gas. We’re still down here.”

“Damn, dude. Hurry up, I wanna see her. I’ve been here without her half a week already.”

“Hey, you need to clean out the freezer and pantry before we get there. Get rid of all the nuts.”

“Okay,” he said, obviously distracted.

I put my phone to my other ear. “Mike, I’m serious. Do it now. Your sponge had peanut butter on it and her throat itched for half a day. If anyone busts that stuff out while she’s there, she’s gonna have a reaction.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it.”

“Do you want to FaceTime me from the fridge? Just to make sure you don’t miss anything?”

He laughed. “Man, I think I know what has nuts in it. Hurry the fuck up.”

The call ended.