Page 138 of Love is a Game

He pauses. “What, Viv? Oh—yeah, birthday,slash…baby shower. Combined thing.”

“…Right. Well, I was just saying to Vivian I’m headed into town. I guess she told you?”

“Perfect! Gotta fly, Bud. Catch ya!”

The line goes dead.

O-kay. Sure. That wasn’t weird at all.

I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. Turn up the Foo Fighters.

A few more miles roll by. A scattering of businesses appears along the highway as I approach Blue Mountain Lake. Well, I guess I’ve got plenty of time. And now, I really feel like that coffee.

I pull into the next gas station and step out of the car, only to do a double-take.

Is that Pen’s dad? Gotta be. He’s wearing the same suit pants and patterned shirt he had on at the funeral.

“Sean?”

He turns. For a second, confusion crosses his face. Then, as I walk up to him, it’s replaced with a look of panic.What the hell? Was our first meeting so bad that he looks ready to bolt?

“Tuck!” He glances around like he’s checking for exits. “Er—what are you doing here?”

“Here? As in the gas station?” I grin. “Getting coffee. Just got back from the city. Heading into town. You?”

“We, er—” He hesitates, then motions to the figure currently head-and-shoulders deep in the ice chest. “Oh, this is my wife, Laurie.”

She pops up, wavy red hair falling in waves around her flushed face. With a quick shake, she dumps a bag of ice into Sean’s arms, adjusts her sparkly emerald dress, and extends a half-frozen hand.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, taking her chilly handshake.

She drills me with bright green eyes—an examination that ends with what could be deemed a nod of approval, like I’ve passed some secret test.

“Heading into town?” She cocks her head. “Don’t you meanout of town?”

I glance between them. Sean carefully adds the latest ice bag to the pile at his feet, trying to preserve his formal outfit from the moisture.

“…No? Definitely into town,” I answer. “I’m going to Pen’s place…we got some stuff to er, talk about,” I add weakly.

They exchange a look.

Before either of them can respond, a burst of chatter cuts through the air.

“Grab, like, four or five bags—make sure there’s enough. I can’t believe they forgot ice.”

I spin around at the familiar voices.“Finn? Molly?”

What the hell? The gas station is a real social hub today.

Finn’s in a collared shirt and sharply-cut chinos. Molly’s in a pretty pastel blue dress, hair curled at the ends.

“…Okay, what’s the occasion?” I ask.

They freeze. Swap a glance. Typical suspicious teenagers.

I let it go. “By the way, this is Sean, Penelope’s dad—and his wife, Laurie.”

“Oh?” Molly’s eyes widen. “Wait, did you guys get sent for ice too?”

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