Page 67 of Years in the Making

“I kept them in the loop occasionally in the beginning. Basically every time I landed in a new place. The embassies always knew where I was, but… well, I had my reasons, even if now they seem petty.” Reasons I’ll hopefully know soon, and reasons that hopefully won’t make me drive away and leave him in the middle of nowhere. Although out of the two of us in this car, I’m not the one most likely to do that. “Things are better now. We see each other occasionally and obviously text. I regret not being there for my dad now, but back then…” he trails off.

“Hindsight,” I say mostly to myself.

“Hindsight has been a tough lesson,” he replies, and I can see those pale eyes slide my way.

We slip back into silence, and I decide that it’s time for some music. It’s just a mix, but I put some Shinedown on the playlist, and I can’t help wondering if they’re still his favorite band. Six songs in, “I’ll Follow You” comes on and I feel those eyes on me again. When I glance over his attention is on Kevin, who remains dedicated to watching the formations of the Canadian Shield shift as we pass by.

After another three hours of driving, I’m directed to turn off the highway onto a long gravel road. I wince, hearing the stones bounce off the Airstream and the truck, and suddenly imagine the cost of fixing a million tiny dents on Bennett’s new vehicle.

“Kevin!” Teddy shrieks as Kevin pops straight off his lap into the air.

“That was a shockingly good Catherine O’Hara,” I say.

“What?” he asks, looking over after Kevin is firmly secured in his arms.

“InHome Alonewhen the mom realizes they left their kid behind.”

“Oh yeah, on the plane.”

“Yeah, it was a good impression, even if it wasn’t intentional.”

Cue another long stretch of silence. In the BM times, the only time Teddy and I weren’t talking is if one of us had fallen asleep. Even if we were making out, there were words. This silence feels uncomfortably foreign and somehow like something we need to go through to repair things. The little glimpses I get of the potential are addictive, and I long for more.

There is a hut about ten minutes down the road and I pull over, assuming it’s the place I need to check in for the night. The signage isn’t exactly helpful, but sure enough, there is a greasy guy inside wearing a T-shirt with the name of the campground.

“Hey,” I say, walking over to the desk that looks like it was rescued from the side of the highway after it fell off a very tall truck.

I instantly regret wearing a tank top as his eyes trail down my body as I approach. The shiver of ick that passes through me must be visible because the guy’s eyes snap to my face. He stands quickly, straightening his shirt. Now that is the way to greet a paying customer.

“Welcome to Sleepy Pines campground. Do you have a reservation?” I’m about to answer when it dawns on me that he’s looking over my shoulder.

“You’ll have to ask her, I’m just a hitchhiker,” Teddy’s voice comes from close behind me.

I turn back to him ready to tell him off, but he’s not even looking at me; his eyes are lasered in on Jim Bob behind the desk. And if I am being honest, it’s kind of hot.

“I do have a reservation. Should be under Three Rivers University.” I look down at the old dusty computer and wonder if the thing can even be connected to the internet.

Greaseball McGee doesn’t even look it up, just hands over a pair of keys. His eyes, which are now wary, remain on Teddy. “Lot fifteen,” he squeaks out. “Three roads down on the right.”

I snatch the keys from his hand, lean into his sightline to Teddy, and smile sweetly. “Thank you so much for your help.” I turn on my heel and walk out of the hut.

Once we’re back in the truck, I look down at my top and sigh.

“I probably should have popped on a different top,” I say, pulling back onto the road.

“Why? Because you’ve got some cleavage on display? Nellie, you aren’t responsible for how someone reacts to you. He’s a grown-ass man, it’s on him for making you feel uncomfortable.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” I insist.

“You stiffened like a corpse going into rigor the minute you stepped in there.”

“The whole setup caught me off guard, I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

“Sure, Nellie, whatever you say. Regardless, you wear whatever you want, and no one gets to make you feel bad about it.”

I slam on the brakes, bringing the truck to a halt and pitching us forward in our seats. “Should I feel bad about wearing a tank top?”

Teddy looks over at me, shock on his face. “No, never, that’s not…” He shakes his head, his mouth moving with unvocalized words. When he seems to have his composure back, he levels me with a look that has me rooted to the spot. “I don’t know why I said you shouldn’t feel bad, that’s not what I meant. I meant what I said about it being on him that you seemed uncomfortable. He sucks, you’re great, I’m sor—” He stops himself from apologizing and deflates. “I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.”

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