Page 111 of Escaping Our Reality

I hold onto her as she jumps down from the tailgate. “So, what will you do today?”

She shrugs and then tilts her face back into the sun. “It’s gorgeous. I’ll probably just lay out by the pool and read.”

I lift my eyebrows. “Read what?”

She ignores me.

“I guess that means your case file on Carrie.”

“Maybe.” She opens the back door of my truck and grabs a bottle of water from the cooler for the road.

“You should be studying for finals,” I scold her.

“I’m Salutatorian. I could fail my finals and still pass. And they’ve already printed the graduation program. Stripping me of that title is the least of their concerns.”

Like a lovesick school boy, I follow her to her car, watching her climb behind the wheel.

She furrows her brow. “Did you hear Grandma ask about the orange roses again?”

“Yeah, she misses her flowers. Can’t remember to blink her own eyes, but she sure remembers those roses, knows they should be blooming now.”

“We should get her a bouquet of orange roses next time we come.”

This woman.

I lean into the car, kissing her goodbye. “I’ll call you when I’m back in town.”

“If you stop for food, don’t let Harlan get anything too greasy. His acid reflux has been acting up.”

I throw my hands in the air. “How the hell do you know how bad Harlan’s acid reflux is? Do y’all really have nothing better to talk about at the garage while I’m working my ass off.”

Once again, she ignores me. Slamming the door shut, she teases me with a wave as she drives away.

***

$145.

I was worried about what to do with my future. Worried how I could provide for Lulu. Build her that big house. Fill it with furniture. Fill it with kids.

Now, I know.

Own a damn tuxedo rental business.

This day is burning through my checkbook like a wildfire, giving me my own set of heartburn. Tux, corsage, food, and a whole new round of floating water lanterns. Harlan was stillworking at getting them all ready when I left. I’ll text him when we start to head back that way so he can light them. With any luck, he won’t burn the homestead down.

I straighten the lapel of my suit and knock on Lulu’s door. “It’s me, Lulu. Open up.”

I hear the patter of her feet and the scramble of the lock. “Ry, I thought you were gonna call—”

She flings the door open and her jaw promptly hits the floor. After she digests her shock, it’s pretty obvious she likes what she sees. Her eyes dilate, and her breath catches in her chest, expanding her large bosom like a balloon.

So, maybe the $145 wasn’t such a bad investment after all.

“Ry,” she reaches around, rubbing the scar on her neck. “What are you doing?”

I scan her pink shorts and white tank top, complete with blue sports bra straps peeking out of the top. Her cheeks are rosy and her lips are pinker than normal. She did lay out today. She looks good enough to eat. And I plan on doing just that in the not-too-distant future. “Well, you know I think you look great in anything, but you may wanna put on something a little more formal. You know, in case you wanna take pictures.”

She shakes her head. “But we can’t go to the prom. The school’s rule? Everyone knows you’re older.”

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