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“We’re going to be riding in Eddie Von Brantley’s bus,” Mick says with awe.
We step onto the bus. I carry Chase in his carrier, and Mick carries Roxy, while the other two trail along. “Wow,” Anna says as she stops in the entryway. The bus is all shiny wood and chrome, with marble countertops and black leather furniture.
“Should we disinfect the surfaces?” I ask. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that some crazy shit goes on inside tour busses.
“No need, this one’s new. He got it for his family.” Alex presses a button on the wall and a big screen TV slides out. “Satellite TV so the kids can be entertained. There’s another one in the back of the bus. There are game consoles and lots of games. And the bathroom is bigger than mine at home.” Alex laughs. He shrugs. “Which isn’t saying much, but still.”
Mel steps onto the bus and says, “If you’re ready to depart, we can do that at any time.”
“I’ll get the luggage and the coolers,” Mick says. He turns to walk off the bus, but she puts a hand on his shoulder.
“I already did. The luggage is under the bus. If there’s something specific you need, I can get it for you.”
“Clothes,” Mick says. “Snacks.”
“Your clothing has been placed in the drawers, and the snacks are either in the kitchen cabinet or in the refrigerator. Shall we depart?”
“I need to go and check out—”
“I already did it for you,” Mel says. She blinks her blue eyes at us.
Mick leans down close to my ear. “I wonder if she’ll offer to wipe my ass when I go to the bathroom.”
I elbow him in the side again.
“If you can secure the children, we’ll be on our way.”
We set Chase and Roxy up in their car seats, and put them in front of the TV. Then we let the two older kids look through the games until they pick one they seem to know. We load it up for them, and they each take a controller. Then we safely buckle them into their seats. And that’s the last we hear out of any of them until lunchtime, when Chase is ready to eat and Roxy is tired of being in her car seat.
I call toward the front of the bus. “If you can find a park somewhere, this would be a good time to let the children stretch their legs.”
Mel, who is driving, looks up momen
tarily and then nods. She turns off the interstate.
“I don’t know how you stand this life,” Mick jokes to me.
“You get used to it.”
“What was life like when you were little, before your parents died?” he asks. “It wasn’t like this, was it?”
“Definitely not. Middle-class suburbia all the way. White picket fence, station wagon. We had all our needs met, and most of our wants met.” He’s watching me intently. “What was it like for you, growing up?”
“We had a brownstone in the city. Mom came from money. Dad grew up dirt-poor. They both went to deaf school, and then they went to Gallaudet, a liberal arts college for the deaf. They got married, and had us. I followed in Dad’s footsteps and became a scientist. Ryan got the art genes from Mom.” He shrugs.
“How did I not know you’re a scientist?”
He shrugs again. “You never asked.”
He’s right. I didn’t. I never asked what he does for a living. “What kind of science?”
“Medical science. Chemical trials, mostly. I work on new drugs, trying to cure diseases.”
“Like what?”
“Like Parkinson’s. We’re getting closer on that one, but we’re not there yet. The research is amazing.”
“You’re a modern-day hero.”
