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I took the stage and sang “Time for Me to Fly” by REO Speedwagon with Rueben smiling widely the entire time, much like he’s doing right now from the driver’s seat. I’m about to tell him I’m not singing, but the familiar lyrics catch in my throat and nostalgia sweeps through my blood. Suddenly, I’m belting out the song like I’m Kevin Cronin on stage at Madison Square Garden.
Closing my eyes, I sing the sad words about letting go and moving on, getting slightly choked up on how incredibly accurate they are in regards to breakups. I’m saved from getting too tangled up in my bubbling emotions when this horribly awful and incredibly off-key noise sounds from the opposite side of the vehicle. I look his way, shocked silent as I watch the train wreck that is Rueben singing.
He must realize he’s giving a solo performance and stops to look my way. “What?” he asks, a knowing grin on his face.
“What the hell is that?” I gape.
“Singing?” he replies with a shrug. All I can do is stare at him, the song on the radio all but forgotten.
“That wasnotsinging. That was like a crying dog having a coughing fit.”
Rueben bursts out laughing. “Can dogs have coughing fits?”
“Of course, they can, silly man. Anyway, you’re distracting me from my subtle insult. How did I not know you couldn’t carry a tune?” I ask, turning down the radio and adjusting myself in my seat to angle toward him.
“I can sing,” he insists, though it’s a losing fight. He bursts into fits of laughter a moment later, unable to continue with his lie. “Oh, it wasn’t that bad.”
I can’t help but ogle at the way his entire face lights up with laughter.
“Why are you staring at me?”
I shake my head and giggle. “It really was that bad. I’m sorry to break it to you, but there is no future for you on the road, singing in stadiums around the world.”
He exhales dramatically. “I can’t believe you’d say that, hopes and dreams killer.” Rueben turns back my way, the sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes the very definition of teasing.
The familiar song ends and rolls into another one, but we both remain quiet for a bit. It’s easy to get caught up in the familiar sights of the area, while they seem brand new all the same. I guess that’s what happens after a decade without returning to the place that helped shape your future.
“How is your family?” he finally asks, breaking the silence.
“Oh, uh, they’re fine. Mom and Dad are still in Decatur and Amber got married several years ago. She’s expecting her third baby in a few months. I thought maybe the impending arrival of another grandchild would curb their well-meant comments about me settling down, getting married, and popping out a few kids of my own, but that would be a lie. It actually has only seemed to fuel the argument. Wait, argument might be too harsh of a word. Concern, maybe? Yeah, that’s probably better. They’re concerned I’m letting my life slip by, missing the boat to have a family of my own.”
I feel his eyes on me. “You’re only thirty-two. Still plenty of time for that.”
“I agree, but tell that to my mom. I know she just wants the best for me, and her idea of that is married with babies.”
“You don’t want that?”
I can’t help it, I turn and look at Rueben. Something in his tone draws my eyes to his. It’s as if he understands my position, yet is still afraid of the answer to his question. So, I answer him honestly, hoping that he gets it. “I think I do, but I guess I just haven’t found the right person to make me really stop and truly consider it. To me, it’s something that’s down the road, off in the future.”
He shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “Totally get that. I guess I feel the same,” he adds with a shrug.
“So why are you still single?” I ask, not really sure if I want to know the answer to this question or not. Something pulls deep in my gut, a foreign feeling that burns of hesitation and jealousy. Just the thought of Rueben with a woman suddenly makes me a little unsettled, maybe even a little ragey. I shake that thought from my head, refusing to go there.
He shrugs. “I’ve dated,” he says, but doesn’t continue. I start to think he’s not going to elaborate, when he finally continues. “It can be a little difficult to find that special someone when you live so remotely and really only go to town for groceries. Plus, the background on the last one I was seeing didn’t come back so great.”
Wait. What?
“Excuse me, did you just say background? You do background checks on the women you date?” I couldn’t fight the smile if I wanted to.
He glances my way for a second, a look of shock on his handsome face. “Don’t you?”
“Uhh, no, no I don’t. I wouldn’t even know how to do a background check.”
“It’s easy, actually. With a little computer work, you can find out just about anything about anyone.” He makes it sound so easy, and it probably is for a man who spends fourteen hours a day in front of a computer screen. “Just say the word and I’ll run checks on any future suitors.”
“Suitors?” I ask with a chuckle. “Is this the 1950s?”
Again, he shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road and a subtle smile on his lips. “The offer stands.”
