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We exchanged numbers and they left the cafeteria. When they were gone, I inched my chair away from Smoke.
“We kissed and made up,” Smoke said. “Why are you moving your chair away?”
“I don’t want to get struck by lightning when God smites you for your lies.”
“You lied too,” he pointed out.
“We’re terrible. Baby clothes, Smoke? The woman wants to give us baby clothes.”
“It’s sweet. I don’t have any grandparents still alive. Edith and Harry can be my surrogate grandparents.”
“And when they find out we’re not even together, let alone married and starting a family?” I shook my head. “It started out as a fun inside joke. Now I just feel awful.”
“Because we lied.”
“Because we lied. And because we were fighting about something completely made up. This is ridiculous. I’m going for a walk.”
“Where? There’s nowhere to go.”
“I’ll walk around the motel.” I shrugged. “I just need to be alone for a few minutes.”
I peeked out the front doors of the cafeteria, hoping Edith and Harry were gone so I didn’t have to face them again.
The air after the storm was a little muggy, but tolerable. As I walked around the motel, I thought about what had just happened. Smoke and I joking around and enjoying the intimate warmth of being together had quickly morphed into something else. Though it was playful and fun to pretend that we were newlyweds, we weren’t. We weren’t even dating.
And strangers had assumed we were together.
Why?
Smoke and I hadn’t even been overtly handsy. It was something else. Something in the way we spoke to each other, interacted with each other.
We just were.
There was an ease between us, something that had never existed between me and Knox. I hadn’t even realized Knox and I didn’t have it until I met Smoke.
Smoke, who was not even my boyfriend.
A chime sounded in my back pocket. With a frown, I pulled it out and unlocked the screen. The text I’d tried to send to Tavy last night finally went through.
My phone rang and Tavy’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hey,” I said as I put the phone to my ear.
“Oh my God! I’ve been calling and calling but your phone goes to voicemail. I thought you were dead!”
Not dead. Just having a bunch of “little deaths” with your stupid-hot father.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “We got caught in a really bad rainstorm and stayed at a motel. The storm was so bad there was no cable or internet. I guess cell service went out sometime last night, too. I’m sorry you were worried.”
“Yeah, I know. I talked to Dad a few minutes ago. He said the road got washed away and so you’re stuck in the motel for another day until they can fix it.”
“Right,” I said, glad Smoke had already thought of a lie.
“Jeez, that’s annoying. You must be so bored.”
“Yeah, so bored.”
“Dad isn’t giving you any grief, is he?”
