Page 93 of Justice for Radar

“Sure thing, babe,” he said without missing a beat, and he came around to put the keys in my hand.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

I didn’t really want to drive, I just honestly wanted to see what he would do if I asked. I don’t know why I expected him to say no, or argue… I guess I was just in a mood where I was doubting, and strongly at that, that this was real. That I was away from Rodney, that not all men… that I had been lucky enough to find one that was a fairytale.

Like, was that what this was? Was this going to be some happily ever after fairytale ending?

Ha, that’s not how life works,I thought to myself.

“You okay?” he asked, breaking into my thoughts and threading his fingers between mine on the hand that I didn’t have on the wheel, but was rather fiddling with my center console as I awkwardly fidgeted at a stoplight.

“What? Yeah!”

He chuckled. “You get too anxious or tired, you just let me know, babe.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just thinking.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asked and I smiled and shook my head.

“No,” I said simply and sighed. “Just being foolish is all.”

“How so?” he asked.

I came clean, it was only right…

“I didn’t really want to drive.”

“Wanted to see how I would react?” he asked.

I nodded, staying focused on the flow of traffic as the GPS on my phone parked orders, taking us to the Interstate to head toward Ft. Royal.

“It’s okay,” he said and he brought the back of my hand to his lips and smacked a kiss to it.

“No, it’s not…” I said with a harsh sigh. “It’s toxic and rude.”

“Yeah, but you know what else it is?” he asked.

“What?” I murmured.

“Understandable. You do what you gotta do to feel safe. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Jussy. It’s one of the many reasons that I like you. This kind of thing is only temporary and asking to drive when you don’t really want to doesn’t hurt my feelings any,” he said with a laugh. “I can drive, you can pull over whenever you want.”

I shook my head and laughed a little and said, “No. I can do it for a while. We can swap when we stop for lunch if you want.”

“All up to you, babe.”

I glanced at him and then back to the road, satisfied that he meant what he said. There was no stoic repose, nothing was guarded or fake about his posture. His expression wasn’t tight, but easygoing, his smile though small, was genuine. There was no tightness about him like a tightly wound spring ready to uncoil at a speed that could give you whiplash.

There was no danger about him.

It was refreshing to a degree, but I still couldn’t quite manage to get myself to relax fully. I couldn’t honestly say why. Guilt, maybe? I mean, I knew it wasn’t right testing like that.

I was pretty embarrassed about it now, but I just couldn’t help myself. The fact he handled it with such grace? I didn’t deserve him.

No, you do…a voice in the back of my head declared and that? That was a comfort. Strangely, at first, but a year ago I would have batted the thought aside. Completely dismissed it. Two years ago? I wouldn’t have dared think anything on my own. Not without Rodney’s approval.

It was progress, and as I drove eastward, out of New Orleans toward Mississippi with every bit of progress I put beneath my car’s tires in the direction of Ft. Royal, I felt hopeful. Hopeful that this new beginning would take.

I stuck to my guns and drove even past lunch despite Radar’s offer to take over. About the time we pulled out of the other side of Mississippi to head through the little butt-flap of Alabama before hitting the Florida panhandle, Radar looked up from his phone sharply and said, “I booked us a night in the Calypso on the West End of Panama City. Driving straight through would be nice and all, but I want you all to myself for one more night.”

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