AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dean had driven a rental car and intended to roadtrip by himself out to the venue. As soon as Jonas heard this at one of our work dinners a few days ago, he asked why we weren’t driving together. Naturally, we had to jump to explain that we actually were planning to road trip out to Colorado together.
That meant I was now watching Dean load my suitcases into the trunk of his rental SUV. He saw me watching, flashed a tame smile, and closed the trunk. “Ready?” He asked. “Did you use the bathroom already?”
“Yes, Dad,” I said, getting around to my side of the car.
Dean got in, grinning and turning the engine on. “Are you ready for twenty-one hours on the road with yours truly?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not sure. Ask me in about ten hours.” He was in a good mood, it seemed. The version of him I’d seen the last few days had been quiet and withdrawn, which I didn’t think seemed anywhere near natural for Dean Slater. Right now, he looked more like how he’d been when we first met or for the first two days at the hotel. He was smiling easily and relaxed. Jovial, almost.
I couldn’t help feeling a touch of relief. Once I knew we were road tripping together, I had started to dread the long ride of awkward silences. I could say what I wanted about Dean, but at his best, he was extremely entertaining. I was glad to know I could count on that version of him for the ride, even if part of me was worried it might start up the fire I was barely managing to keep out.
“Ten hours,” he said thoughtfully. “I think that’ll put us roughly in Missouri. My favorite state.”
I gave him a look. “Really? Missouri?”
He grinned. “I’m kidding. If all goes well, I plan to never leave the car at any point through that hellhole.”
I snorted. “It’s not that bad in Missouri.”
“If you say the name fast enough, you’re just saying ‘misery’. You think that’s a coincidence?”
“Yes?” I tried.
“It isn’t, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”
We pulled out the long drive of the hotel and took to the winding mountain roads. They were littered with fallen leaves. Some of the trees were still clinging to Fall colors, but the bright yellows and reds of early Fall were almost completely gone. Mostly, the leaves were a deep maroon, if they hadn’t fallen away completely already.
“It’s so pretty,” I said absently.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “I love Manhattan, but it’s hard to beat this.”
I nodded my agreement. I loved the bustle and speed of the city, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been seriously considering moving out to the suburbs for some time now. I’d even secretly started applying to a few graphic design jobs that would give me the final push to move. I hadn’t told anyone, but for some reason, I found my mouth running.
“I’ve thought about moving,” I said suddenly.
I sensed him turning to look at me, which I didn’t exactly appreciate given the narrow, winding mountain roads. To my right, there was about two hundred feet of nearly open air until you hit the wooded valley below. “Eyes on the road, Dean.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I just took you for the city type, through and through.”
“I took myself for that type, too. But, people are allowed to change. And they’re also allowed to think about changing, even if they might never do it.”
“I like that,” he said after a little bit of a pause.
I found myself smiling at his words. “Well, it’s true.”
“That’s why I like it. Too many people get stuck in ruts. They won’t admit it’s a rut because they act like change is failure. The CEO who has more money than he ever needs, but all he does on the weekend and in his spare time is work on his boat and dream about taking it out for a month on the open seas. If you ask that guy why he doesn’t just quit and do it, he’ll tell you it’s because he’s good at what he does. Or the company needs him. Or it’s all he knows. But what happens when he has a heart attack the year before he retires?” Dean was quiet for a little, then he shrugged. “It sounds like you don’t want to be that guy.”
“I’d rather not have a penis. Or die of a heart attack. Correct.”
He snorted. “You know what I mean.”
I smiled to myself again. “Yeah, I do. And who knows. Maybe I’ll chicken out. But a couple years ago–this is going to sound stupid– I saw a show. Like, just your typical 90’s sitcom in a small town. And I thought about how much I might like that. Everybody knows your name. There’s some little old man you always pass and ask something like, ‘still planning to audition for the town play, Mr. Winkles?’ And, of course he’s the lovable town grouch, so he just shakes his fist and mumbles something back at you.”
