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“And I assume they both had big tits?” I said, unimpressed.
“Of course they did,” Dad said. “No one’s saying brains are a replacement for boobs. They’re just a nice complement.”
I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.
“So what’s her bra size?” Dad asked.
“I didn’t ask.” I watched as Sara drove away in Clara’s Cougar. “Listen, I’ve got to go. Clara’s coming and I don’t want her to hear me talking about her fabulous double Ds.”
“Double Ds? Nice. You know what, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it sounds like you might have hit the jackpot. Blond, boobs, brains. The three Bs of love. Oh my God, you know what I just realized? A capital letter B is the shape of two boobs. How could I have never noticed that before?”
“Gotta go, Dad,” I said as Clara approached. “Thanks for expunging our criminal records. Bye.”
I hit the end button just as Clara came within hearing distance.
“Hey,” I said. “You ready to get going?”
“Ready,” she said, holding up the cabin keys. “Hope you like rustic.”
I climbed into the passenger seat of the Santa Fe and we got back on the road.
But we didn’t exactly pick up where we left off—with our hands all over each other. Now the space between us seemed about ten miles wide. Whereas before we had been openly sharing our oldest memories and deepest wounds, we were now filling the air with deafening silence. And Clara, for her part, was staring a little too intently at the road, as if deliberately trying to avoid even peripheral eye contact.
“Hey,” I said, reaching over and gently massaging the back of her neck. “Everything okay?”
Without looking at me, she gave a polite smile. “I’m fine. Just a little tired is all.”
I didn’t believe her for a minute. But I played along. “You want me to drive for a while? I feel fine.”
She nodded. “I’m good. But thanks for offering.”
I removed my hand from her neck, sensing it was not welcomed there. I was starting to wonder what exactly Sara had said to her when they were alone in the parking lot. Whatever it was, it was responsible for a very sudden and unexpected reversal in Clara’s attitude toward me.
I decided to try to get the details without coming straight out and asking. “You and your mom seem pretty close,” I said.
“We are,” she said. It was her entire answer.
“Did you mean what you said about her being your best friend?”
“Yep,” she said. “Always has been.”
“You two seem so different, though.”
“We are,” she said. “But we make it work. Nothing’s more important than family, right?”
To some families. Once again, I felt a prick of envy. “I like her,” I said. “She’s got a lot of personality. She wasn’t mad at me, was she?”
She looked over at me like I was nuts. “Of course not. You’re the one who got me out of jail. You got me away from the paparazzi. You’re my freaking hero. Why would she be mad at you?”
I was about to come straight out and ask her what specifically she and her mom had been talking about in the parking lot, but she abruptly changed the subject.
“Was that your dad you were talking to on the phone?”
“It was,” I said.
“Did you thank him for me?”
“I did,” I said.
