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“And your dad?” she asks, though I can tell by the way her hesitation is infused with the words that she already knows there isn’t a happy ending to this story.
“Passed away.” I keep my eyes on the road.
“When?” she asks quietly.
“Two years ago. Right after Royce returned home.”
“I’m so sorry, Rueben.” I hear her words, but it’s the delicate hand on my forearm that has my full attention. Not good, considering I’m driving down the interstate at seventy miles per hour.
Clearing my throat, I reply, “Thank you. Mom took it hard, and that’s when they moved to Tennessee.”
We’re quiet for a few minutes, both of us lost in thought. My mind replays that horrible late-night phone call. Mom’s wails that I couldn’t understand. My brother getting on the phone and telling me of the massive heart attack. The return home and the days that followed were dark, filled with sadness and grief, and ones I wouldn’t want to repeat anytime soon.
“Are you still working for that insurance company?” she asks. Her question makes me cringe, considering I haven’t worked for that company for six years. It’s a not-so-subtle reminder of the huge disconnect in our friendship over the years.
“Uh, no, not anymore. I actually work for a company based in Chicago now.”
“Insurance?” she asks, turning slightly in her seat to give me her full attention.
“No, not insurance.” I rub the back of my neck and adjust my glasses. It’s a nervous habit I’ve had pretty much my entire adult life. “It’s a security company that monitors cyber threats for large corporations around the world.”
Silence fills the SUV and after a few long seconds, I glance her way.
“That sounds…cool.”
Shrugging, I reply, “It can be. Something different all the time. You’d be surprised by how many ways a company’s online security can be threatened.”
“And you get to work from home?”
I nod my reply. “I work remotely. That’s the cool part about the job. I can work anywhere I have my computer and a secured internet connection.”
“Very cool, Ruby.”
I instantly groan. “No, not that again.”
“What?” She frets innocence.
“You know what. Don’t play dumb.”
Finally, she busts out laughing. “Fine, Ruby, I won’t use the nickname, Ruby, that you hate so much.”
One time. One time I took Danny and Cricket home for a long weekend and made the mistake of visiting my grandparents. Grandma has always called me Ruby, much to my complete and utter dismay, and used the term of endearment a handful of times. Even though neither of them said a word while we were there, the moment we returned to school, Cricket would throw the nickname at me just to get a rise.
“How are your grandparents, by the way,” she asks hesitantly; probably fearful that I’ll share another detail of family who’s passed.
“Fine. Moved to an assisted living place in Marion. Mom gets there a few times a year for a visit, but I haven’t in a while. I’m hoping to swing by and see them while I’m here,” I tell her.
“I’ll go with you.” Again, I glance her way, ready to tell her it’s not necessary, but the look on her face has my mouth stapled shut. It’s of friendship, of support, and of peace.
So instead of waving off her offer, I find myself saying, “Thanks. I’m sure they’d love to visit with you.”
We’re both silent for a while as we head east, Carbondale drawing closer and closer with each passing minute. Cricket checks her phone, her fingers flying across the screen as she replies to whatever text or email she received. A few times she adjusts the radio, bouncing between a top forty station and a classic country one. It’s actually a pretty good mix of her style of music and mine. She knows I’m a country fan, while she prefers the upbeat tunes of Taylor Swift and Maroon 5.
Cricket glances up just as I’m exiting off 64 and merging onto IL-127. I’ve already noticed the sign for Nashville, Illinois, but it’s then that she seems to realize where we are. She turns in her seat, a smile playing on her plump lips. “Do you think they’re still there?” she asks. I know exactly what she’s referring to.
“I don’t know, but I hope so.”
It only takes a few minutes to drive into the small town and find what we’re both eagerly looking for. The welcome sign in the window of the small café is lit and my mouth starts to water instantly.
