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JOSIE
It’s been three hours since we stopped for food. He was silent all of nine minutes to eat. And not a second longer.
“I can drive if you’re getting tired.” His repeated offer has been about every thirty minutes.
“We’re almost there.” At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the last hour, even though we still have another good hour left.
Before he can respond, my phone rings. I hesitate for a second before glancing at the screen. Figures. Mom. No one else would be calling at nearly midnight. And I know if I don’t answer she’ll keep calling. Or worse, call Sarah looking for me, because she can’t possibly be inconvenienced enough to wait for me to call her back on my time.
Answering the call, I shift away from Ben as I hold the phone to my left ear.
“Did you not get my text?” Mom launches in.
“I’m driving. I’ll check it in a few and message you back.” Before I can escape the phone call, Mom lets out an impatient huff.
“Don’t you hang up. All you have to do is tell me when you’re gonna meet us to sign the paperwork.”
“I told you it’ll be next week since I’m out of town for Sarah’s wedding.”
“I don’t know why we couldn’t have just gotten it done before you left. There was plenty of time.” Mom continues griping, but I only half listen as I take a quick peek at Ben out of the corner of my eye. He’s taking in the landscape, not talking. And to my surprise, I’d rather be listening to his insanity than Mom’s grumbles. Not because I’m not used to her complaining, but because of what she wants me to do. Could I have signed the paperwork before I left out of town? Yes. But even though I know I’ll sign on the dotted line, I’m not quite ready to do so just yet.
“I’ll call you later,” I say over her.
“Josie. If you’re not going to do it, tell me now.”
Any hope of me controlling my temper is lost. How can she be frustrated with me? “I said I would, and I will. I’ll see you next week.” I hang up before hearing her response but not without getting the gist that whatever it was, it didn’t sound happy. Well, she can join the crowd. I will show next week, but I’m not happy with what she’s asking of me. And the only reason I’m going along with it is because Dad would want me to. Despite everything, he’d go along with whatever she wanted. And maybe I’m ready to be done with all of it—and with her.
“Still good over there?” Ben’s rhetorical question breaks the quiet, and I suddenly wonder when he turned down the music.
I crank it back up as I say, “Yep.”
He reaches for the volume knob, turning it to the left. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care.” My fingers grip the steering wheel as I push the volume control button with more force than intended.
But he won’t just let it be and continues our childish battle as the music lowers again. “Yes. You do. What’d she want this time?”
The question rubs me the wrong way. Not because of what he’s asking, but because he knows her well enough to know she had to have a reason to call. And it’s never a good orjust becausereason. It’s a what-can-you-do-for-me reason because she always wants something.
“Nothing I want to discuss.”
“Fair enough.” He surprisingly doesn’t probe further but he adds, “But that explains your nerves being on edge.”
“My nerves are not on edge. Or maybe they are. It’s a big weekend and the most important one of my best friend’s life, and it’s starting out a complete disaster of a road trip.” Once I’m done rambling, I take in a deep inhale of much-needed oxygen before I glance over to him, only to have every bit of progress I made sucked out of my lungs when his eyes lock with mine. How can I hate and desire someone so much at the same time? But more importantly, how the fuck do I cross the desire part out of that equation?
Prying my eyes from his, I put my focus back where it should be—on the road ahead before I do something reckless and swerve out of the lines. I can’t. I need to stay on track. And not just the one on the highway. But my brain doesn’t cooperate as the words spill from my mouth. “My mom wants me to sign my portion of the acreage over. She wants me to just sign it over to her. And I’m going to. But I need a few more days until it’s official.” Finally, I let the pain move through my chest.
Ben isn’t the person I wanted to share this with. I hadn’t even told Sarah yet. She had everything going on with the wedding, and even though she’d be there to listen if I needed her to, I didn’t want to bring her down with my pity party and crazy mother drama during the happiest days of her life. Mom will still be crazy when Sarah gets back from her honeymoon, and that’s when I’d planned to have that chat to clear my head.
“Obviously it’s what your mother wants. But are you certain that’s what you want also?”
“Do I have a choice? Yes. Does it feel that way? No. Besides, you know Dad would’ve told me to do it because that’s what Mom wants.”
“Yes. He would’ve. But just because he always went along with her doesn’t mean it’s the right decision.” I hear the strain in his voice. The same strain I heard when he comforted me the day I lost my dad. I’d been a mess. And Ben let me cry in his arms for hours, his soothing voice reassuring me that I’d be okay every so often. And something shifted between us that day. At least temporarily until the disastrous day our kiss ended with my arm in a cast right before my high school graduation and the summer that followed.
“I know. But she wants to sell, and the buyer only wants the full 100 acres. And now it’s just my portion that’s holding up the deal. Besides, when Dad divided it out, he’d pictured me building a home on the land near my childhood home. And him still being here. All one big happy family.” There’s no point in hiding any cynicism on that one, because Ben is well aware there was never abig happy familysituation at my home.
“What do you picture?” The genuine tone of his question allows me to answer easily. Like I’m talking to my friend and not my arch nemesis when I respond.
