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A teasing grin takes over his weathered face. “So…off to cash in your marriage voucher, huh?”
I groan. “Does everybody in this office just sit around gossiping about my non-existent love life?” With my free hand, I loosen the knot of my tie.
“Not everybody,” Nicky quips. “You might find someone in the mailroom who doesn’t—no, wait—don’t they have that bet going on downstairs?”
Dad smirks. “Yeah, I put fifty bucks in the pot.”
“Whaaat?! I only put in a twenty!” Nicky groans. “The pay sucks around here. I’m gonna have to skip a couple lattes this week to up my bet.”
I point a glare at her. “Your smug little attitude won’t serve you well in the unemployment line, Nicky.”
Dad throws an arm around my sister’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll get HR to check the box next to ‘hurt Cash’s feelings’. Then you can come work in my office, where you’ll be appreciated.”
“Aww, thanks, Dad!” The little brat beams and my own father high-fives her. “By the way, do I get a pay raise?”
Dad thoughtfully considers it.
“Nepotism will be the downfall of this place,” I hiss under my breath.
Nicky ruefully shakes her head. “Y’see? There goes the pot calling the kettle black again.”
That’s where she’s wrong. My rise in the ranks of this company has not been a free ride. My father may be the one who founded WWM but I’ve sure as hell paid my dues, working my ass off all the way up the ladder. And I plan to keep climbing. I have big goals for the firm’s future. I just need to get Dad to see the vision I see.
That’s a discussion for some other time, though. I snap out a gruff response instead of prolonging this pointless argument. “Stuff it. Both of you. Or I’m not coming back.”
Stopped in the middle of the lobby, my father feigns shock, slapping his palms to both sides of his whiskered face. “Oh no! How ever will you find purpose and meaning in your life if you aren’t chained to your desk eighteen hours a day, six days a week? Might you actually find a hobby or two to revolve your life around?”
Dad and Nicky throw their heads back with laughter.
I have no time for their bullshit. So I keep walking. Straight for the door.
Richard, the security guy, offers me a grave salute as I stroll past the front desk. “Good luck with all that arranged marriage stuff tonight, Cash.”
Goddamn.
I don’t stop shaking my head as I’m fleeing the building, desperate to get out of the city before the traffic holds me captive for the night. After a quick stop at the bakery, I hit the highway.
The worst part of the six-hour road trip is being left alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that keep creeping in, trying to hijack my lifelong friendship, and take it to places that terrify me. Thoughts I find myself battling to push aside for every one of the next five-hundred plus miles.
The further I drive from the safety of Chicago, the more tied up I get in my imagination. I’ve entertained the idea of marriage and kids, I guess. But it’s always been something out there in the distant future. Far down the line. Something I could delay just a little bit longer. Something for some other day. But with each mile I drive, that landmark seems closer and closer on the horizon. Too close. It’s terrifying.
I snap out of my introspection as I swerve onto my exit. Through the drizzle hitting my windshield, I glance up at a large, familiar highway sign looming above the roadway.
Welcome to Honey Hill, Iowa.
A strong gust of wind rattles the crookedsign as I drive past it, entering my sleepy hometown.I flick my indicator and make a quick right turn. I pull into the local gas station to fill my tank. A sense of nostalgia wraps around me. So many memories in this place.
In a hurry, I hop out and start fueling up.No fancy electric car for me. I drive a sleek luxury vehicle that demands premium gasoline every few hundred miles. Totally worth it.
While I’m pumping my gas, my phone beeps. It’s a text message from my sister-in-law. Well, technically, my ex-sister-in-law but as far as I’m concerned, Alana is still family.
Alana: The weather’s looking pretty bad and it’s starting to get late. Are you sure you’re coming?
I glance up at the darkened sky, inhaling the rain-scented air. I’m hoping to make it to my destination before it starts coming down for real, but my chances are looking slim.
Me: For the millionth time—yes, I’m coming
Alana: Ok
