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I climb back into the truck with Jordan and pull off my wet jacket, while she fastens her seatbelt next to me. I start the engine and wait for the lot to clear a little before finally pulling out, both of us riding in silence.
It’s so quiet all of a sudden, and I realize the rain had been so constant for the last few hours that I hadn’t been able to hear a voice unless it was shouted. Or a movement, unless it was my own. Now, my ears instinctively search for anything to grab onto.
The rain hitting my truck like rubber bullets. The grind of the leather on the steering wheel in my fist. The slosh of the rain under the tires as I charge down the highway, my engine rumbling like a lullaby.
But still, it’s so quiet.
She draws in a deep breath through her nose.
Her raincoat squeaks as she slides her hands underneath her thighs.
I hear a soft clicking sound and dart my eyes to the floor where she’s gently tapping her Chucks together.
She licks her lips, and I fucking wince. Jesus.
Reaching over, I turn on the radio. Anything to distract.
I don’t know why I’m so irritable today. No, I know. I woke up to Lindsay on the phone. She’s the last person I want to deal with first thing in the morning.
It isn’t hard to miss how happy I was at Cole and Jordan’s age, having fun with whatever I could get my hands on and not forcing myself to think too hard about any decisions I was making. But not long after I met Lindsay, the bill for all that fun came due. I made a kid with a girl I barely knew. A pathological liar and someone who manipulates like it’s a fucking sport.
And when I left, I left him with her. Cole never had a chance.
I took her to court, of course, trying to get custody, but judges back then often saw the mother as the better option, and she knew how to solicit sympathy. She wanted Cole, because Cole meant child support. And she certainly got that out of me.
It was like being in prison, having to take him back to her after my weekends with him. She twists things into knots, and that’s what she did to him. By the time he was ten, he was putting himself in front of her if I needed to say things to her, and I was always in the wrong.
By the time he was fourteen, he stopped wanting to visit every other weekend, and now, we barely know each other. He won’t even call unless he needs money.
I shake my head, clearing it. “Want to put in a tape?” I suggest to Jordan.
I don’t meet her eyes, but I can see her head snap in my direction. “A tape? Like a cassette tape?”
Her gaze suddenly flashes to my car stereo and her eyes go wide, surprise lighting up her face. I almost laugh.
She didn’t notice it on the drive here?
“Is that an actual tape deck?” she blurts out.
She reaches out and touches the old car radio like it’s a precious vase and pushes Eject. Out pops a clear cassette tape with white lettering that I’ve never listened to.
She removes it, cupping it in her hand and reading the title. “Guns N’ Roses.” Her hand goes to her mouth, looking like she’s about to fucking cry. “Oh, my God.”
Darting for the glove compartment, she opens it and stares at the line of tapes neatly set up.
“Deep Purple,” she reads, “Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, John Mellencamp, ZZ Top…”
Then she seems to spot something that really excites her, because she reaches in and plucks out the black Def Leppard case. “Hysteria?” she exclaims, reading the album title. “They don’t make that album anymore. All you can get is the live version!”
I raise my eyebrows, not sure why this is all so exciting. “I’ll take your word for it,” I say, a little amused at her excitement. “This truck was my father’s. Those are his tapes. I just never got around to clearing them out after he…passed away a few years ago.”
It occurs to me that she’s the first one to touch the Guns N’ Roses tape since he put it in the player.
She looks back at the collection. “Well, that’s good, I guess,” she mumbles. “You clearly don’t know what you have here and these would’ve wound up in the bottom of a trash can, for Christ’s sake. Your dad was a cool guy.”
I smile, agreeing. She carefully places the Guns tape back in its case and removes the Def Leppard tape.
“May I?” she asks, gesturing to the tape deck.
