Page 65 of Trip Through Your Wires

“Shit, Ells, you know what I mean.” I run a hand through my hair, and yank it, wanting to kick myself. I know better than to say that to her.“I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” she says softly.

She sounds so sad and it makes my brotherly instinct kick in. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Yeah?” she replies, voice lifting.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’m sorry. You know I would never joke about—”

“I know,” she cuts me off. “And I know you aren’t going because of that. You worry about her too, just as I do.”

I nod in silent confirmation. I do worry about her. Even if she doesn’t give a shit about me anymore.

“I’ll give you directions from the airport to Davenport,” she continues. “It’s fifteen minutes up the road from Cherry Cove.”

“All right.” I make my way over to my drawer and grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “You owe me a pizza.”

“You got it.” She laughs. “Anything else?”

“I’ll make a list and give it to you when you two get home.”

She makes kissing noises into the phone as Cruz takes the phone back. “Sorry brother.”

“Did you know what she wanted?”

“Guilty,” he admits.

“Uh-huh,” I roll my eyes.

“Sorry man, when you’ve got a girl in bed next to you that looks like my girl does, you shut your mouth and do whatever she wants.”

With that, he wishes me safe travels, tells me he owes me as well, then hangs up, leaving me to get dressed.

After getting dressed, I grab a sweatshirt from the shelf in my closet and slide it down over my head. I don’t pack a bag. I only grab my wallet and keys. It’s just a quick trip to make sure Jenica is okay. With any luck, I will be back here in time to order another pizza by dinner time tomorrow and pick up where I left off.

***

Thanks to Ellery’s directions, I made it to Davenport with little trouble. While the red eye she booked was canceled, the black Camaro she rented made up for the night I had to spend in the airport while waiting for the first flight out the next morning.

I loved fast cars. When I was little I had a poster of a Lamborghini above my bed that I used to dream about. A Camaro wasn’t a Lambo, of course, but I opened that baby up and raced like I was Mario Andretti, slowing only while driving through Cherry Cove, and again when I hit Davenport’s city limits.

As I drove through the town, I saw it was different than Cherry Cove. Slightly inland, it was picturesque with a city center that included a courthouse, church, and local storefronts, as well as a residential district with well-maintained Victorian homes, with rocking chairs on their porches and tree-lined streets. It was the kind of town you’d see on a postcard. Quiet, quaint, and quintessentially southern.

After passing a fresh fruit stand and a farm with a red barn with the words CHICKEN FEED painted on the roofline, I see a turn off with a weathered wooden gate flanked by two barrels, and my stomach flips. The turn off to Jenica’s. I’m here.

Slowing down, I pull off the main road and make my way down the rock drive. I go slow, careful not to stir up too much dust, taking in the acreage on either side of me. Row after row of trees extend as far as the eye can see. I don’t know what they are, but they look like they may be peach.

At the end of the drive I come to a charming white clapboard house with a wraparound porch, potted plants lining the stairs, and a windmill next to a giant magnolia tree. It’s lived in, but clearly well-maintained by love and pride, and reminds me of my own childhood home. Jenica’s here. I can see and feel hints of her everywhere, including the most obvious, her red Honda CRX.

After coming to a stop, I put the car in park, sitting there for a moment before turning off the engine. Checking my reflection in the rear view mirror, I run a hand through my hair and rub my eyes, before pushing open the door and getting out.

Making my way over to the front stairs, I place my foot on the first one hesitantly, take a deep breath, then continue until I am at the front door. Pulling the screen back, I knock on the door. It takes a few seconds, but finally I hear a voice on the other side.

“Got it, Nana!” Jenica calls out and my chest tightens. It feels like forever since I heard her voice and it’s music to my ears.

I take a step back as the door opens slowly, and when our eyes meet she freezes.

“Jenica, darlin’,” an elderly woman’s voice calls from inside the house, “who is it?”

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