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“No.Butyou’ll need a passport.Doyou have one?”
“Yes.Ofcourse,Ihave a passport.”
“Good.I’llpick you up on the way to the airport.Howmuch time do you need to pack?”
“Halfan hour?Ijust need to throw some stuff in a suitcase.”
“Don’trush too much.Thepilot’s got to get the plane ready.AndIhave to get to you.I’llbe outside your place in an hour, okay?”
“I’llbe ready.”Ican hear the reassuring smile in her voice over the phone. “Everything’sgoing to be okay.We’regoing to get you home in no time and start taking care of your dad.”
“Selena?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”Tappingmy screen,Iend the call.
Ishove enough jeans, t-shirts, and boxer briefs to last me a week into the stainless steel carry-onValbought me afterIlanded my second job doingRaven’sRavine.Thissuitcase cost more than my car did back then.Butit’s probably got more mileage on it now than that little broken down pickup truckIhad back then.
Oatstravels with me so much thatMargritkeeps a go-bag packed for him with a bag of kibble, a few toys, rubber balls, extra leashes, and poop bags.AlltheOatsnecessities.Aftergrabbing the go-bag from the pantry,Icall him.
“Let’sgo, bud.We’regoing back home.”
Helooks up at me and tilts his head. “Youwant to go seeSelena?”Oatsbarks and jumps up and down. “Thereit is.Metoo, bud.Me, too.”
Exactlyan hour afterIhung up withSelena,Ipull up in front of her place.She’swaiting for me just outside her front door.She’spulled her hair up into a messy top-knot, and she’s wearing hardly any makeup.Nobright-painted lips tonight.Shelooks as beautiful as ever.Herlegs are covered in tight black leggings, and she’s wearing an oversized t-shirt with theLadycakesname and logo on it, and a chunky knit cardigan.Shehas a white carry-on suitcase and that oversized bag she had in the elevator.Idon’t remember the last timeItraveled anywhere with a girl who packed this light.Thatbig-ass shoulder bag had better be full of snacks.Ireally, really hope it’s full of snacks.
Mynutrition plan is off whenIenter theWesternSpringstown limits.I’mgoing to eat ice cream, every single deep fried food thatIcan get my hands on, and whateverIcan convinceSelenato bake for me for as long as we’re there.
“Stayhere,”ItellOatsasIget out of the car to getSelena’sbag.Oatskeens. “Youcan say hi to her in a minute,Ipromise, bud.”Hecan say hello to herafterIdo.
“Hey, baby,”Isay whenIget close enough for her to hear me.I’mnot sure ifI’msaying it for any photographers who might overhear it or for myself.Ididn’t see any photographers camped outside her place, though.
“Hey.I’mall ready.”
“Isee that.Thanksfor getting ready so fast.”
“Noproblem.”
“Letme get your suitcase,”Itell her, bending over to pick up the small white carry-on.
“Thanks.”Selenalets out a squeal.
“What’swrong?”Iturn back to her, looking for something hurting her.
“Sorry!I’mgood.Oatsis coming?” she asks breathlessly.
“Yeah, he always travels with me, unless the country won’t let him in or something like that.He’sprobably spent more nights in hotels than he has at home.”
“Arewe staying at a hotel?”
“No,Iwasn’t planning to.Butyou can, if you’d be more comfortable with that.Iwas going to stay at my dad’s house on the farm.There’sno one there since he’s at the hospital.There’sa lot of bedrooms.Soyou know, you’d have your own room.”
Shefrowns a little. “That’sperfect.I’mhappy to be wherever you are.AndwhereverOatsis, of course.”
“Don’tbe leaving your door open, or he’ll ditch me for you in a heartbeat.”
Selenagrins back at me as she walks to the car to say hello toOats. “Nopromises!”
