Page 17 of The Road Sometimes Taken

As we walk to my place, I see movers shoving things into the U-Haul and after stepping in, I confirm my suspicions. My whole house is packed and ready to go. Not the furniture, though. I’m leaving it fully furnished and renting it to the girl who did her internship in a kindergarten class at school. She’svery ‘rainbows and butterflies’ so she didn’t even bat an eyelash at my quirky house.

The U-Haul is almost full and upon further inspection, I notice they’re bringing out the boxes from my room, which were already packed. Thank God for that, because I would have fainted at the thought of strangers going through my drawers.

A leggy brunette walks out in high heels and a tight fancy skirt. She seems as tall as the ceiling. I’m usually not surprised by tall women, as I’m five-foot-seven myself, but this woman is more than tall. She demands space with every step she takes. She demands all eyes on her. So fucking confident. And that makes me pull my shoulders back more and stand taller myself.

She walks past me and straight to Manny. She gives him a big smile that he doesn’t return and says, “All set here, Mr. Zabana. Things will be delivered to your sister’s address and we’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you, Lucia. Have a great night. I won’t need you again here. Can you send a car for me in about an hour? We need to have dinner first.” Manny’s voice is commanding andholy molydoes that made him hotter. His business-like tone, his serious demeanor, and the respect that he used to give her instructions, while not treating her like she’s any less. His mom is a great lady so I’m sure that’s where he gets his good manners from butfuck mebecause that was both hot and sweet.

Lucia walks out of the house and closes the door behind her. The house is empty now. No boxes anywhere. No people roaming around; just me, Manny, and the food. He sets the table and I join him, sitting down and opening the first container to see if it’s my sushi roll. I grab the chopsticks and the yum-yum sauce and start eating.

“That’s not really a sushi roll. That’s more like breaded rice with chicken inside smothered in sauce.”

“And who are you, the sushi police? Let me eat my Highway Seventeen roll in peace, please.” Deep-fried deliciousness with cream cheese, avocado, and chicken inside. The perfect combo.

“Sushi without fish shouldn’t even be called sushi,” he argues.

“I don’t like seafood, fish, or anything that breathes underwater, Manny. Why would I trust it? I’m not a mermaid. If it breathes underwater, I’m not eating it. Let me live happily with my chicken sushi, please.”

“Whatever you say, Carita, whatever you say.” Manny shakes his head before laughing loudly.

This might be my favorite thing about all of the Zabanas: how easy it is to talk and laugh with them. How easy it is to just be with them. Allie and I have been friends for forever so her brothers were always part of the package. Manny’s twin brother, Augusto—Gus for short— is funny as shit too, but we really don’t talk as much.

Manny was the one that I could always talk to, either because he was always nagging at me or because he was always asking me how I was. As we grew older, Manny became more than Allie’s little brother—he became my friend too. He became someone to talk to every now and then when I needed a pick me up, because I knew I could count on Manny to make me laugh. He became someone that I wanted to share things with because he always replied quickly, no matter what it was, and this led to us talking frequently. He became a good friend.

However, since adulthood, it’s been harder to spend time with him, or any of them actually. Jobs all over the country, relationships, responsibilities, and whatever else gets in the way. Whoever said that growing up was a fraud was right. This shit’s for the birds.

“So Cara, you bought a whole stationery set… what are you doing with all that?”

“Funny you should ask,” I say, getting up to grab the bag of things on the table and pull out the new journal. It came with tabbies to match the colors on the cover and I have never been happier. I’m surprised Manny saw me pick out these things since he was on his phone during this part of the shopping spree.

“See here?” I ask, opening to the first page to show him the bullet points in my journal. “This is a bullet journal. You can use it for many things, but I got it to document the road trip and to write the itinerary. I’ll be working on that tonight. I want loose plans, if that’s okay with you. I want to be able to seize the day and enjoy it—does that make any sense?”

I hate that I turn into this jittery mess when I’m trying to ask for something. I used to be able to ask for what I wanted head on. But in all the years that I was with that ass-who-shall-not-be-named, he made it seem like I was being annoying.You ask for too much, Cara. Just chill.I can hear his words echoing in my brain. My therapist says that I need to let go of the girl I tried to be when I was with him and embrace who I am now. Who I always knew I was deep down. Go back to the things that make me happy without daring to think of who might like it or not. I’m trying but it’s not always easy. Journaling is just one of the many things.

“Whatever you want to do works for me. I’m yours for the trip and I’m down for whatever,” Manny answers and I raise my eyebrows at him. “I mean, I will draw the line at some crazy shit that I’m sure you’ll try to pull off, but I’m game. You said three weeks, you got three weeks.”

“I said it was going to take me two weeks to do this road trip, not three,” I add and he looks at me and smiles. His soft smile. Not the ‘I want to seal a deal’ smile. This is his ‘I’mcomfortable with you’ smile. The one that reaches his eyes and makes them gleam. The one where his eyebrows are soft and relaxed. The one that could make any girl jealous he’s not flashing it at them. And he’s showing it to me.

“But you also said you have to be in Atlanta in three weeks for your friend’s wedding, right? So why would you cut your trip short to go back out, unless you want to? I figured we could add some more stops to that one-in-a-lifetime dream trip of yours, I can drop you off at this wedding, and after we can drive straight to Baker. Does that work for you?”

“Is this what makes you a great businessman? Your attention to detail?”Did I just say that aloud?Fuck my whole life.

“What? Are you surprised I remembered you have that wedding? It’s not hard, Cara,” he says it nonchalantly. Other than my friends—my close friends, the friends who will never get rid of me friends—I don’t think anybody pays attention to what I say. My parents do, but I won’t bother them with trivial things. The people at work, we just talk about work. And all the boys I’ve dated, including Cole, seemed to be more interested in my pretty mouth than the words coming out of it. So no, not easy at all.

My expression must say it all because he shrugs and continues, “You like to talk, you need to be around more people who like to listen. Hell, you should be around people who pay attention to whatyouhave to say.”

The air grows thick as Manny’s dark eyes find mine. I want to squirm and look away—that’s what I do most of the time—but not now, not in this moment. Right now, I want to be the cause for that intense stare, even if it’s just forthismoment. There’s a table and over two decades of family friendship between us, but right now I wish there was nothing. I wish he was looking at me like this because he wanted me. I wish he was looking at me like that because he meant those words inways more than just being kind to his sister’s best friend. His phone rings, snapping us both from this moment.

Manny looks at this phone, clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” He gets up and walks out the back door onto the porch and I plop my head on the table. Except the plate full of sushi smothered in sauce is there and now my face is covered in both.

I get up and walk to the sink to wash my face. This day needs to be over. I’m ready for a warm bath and music to take the edge off because I can’t go on a road trip with this man without bustin’ one out.

“What happened to your food?” Manny says as I dry my face and I wave my hand to brush off his comment. I grab the plate and toss the rest of it in the trash.

“Hey, I gotta run. But would you be ready tomorrow? Can I come in the morning?” he asks.

“Yeah, I can be ready, but why don’t I just pick you up? You’re the one doing me a favor.”

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