Page 3 of Finding Noah
How he knew which way I was thinking of was beyond me, but the number of states so wasnotthe issue. “It’s thirty-one hours of driving.”
“So we’ll stop a couple of times. We’ll drive together. I’ll listen to a bunch of audiobooks, and you’ll mainline country music.” He mock-winced.
An ongoing joke between us. We lived in Tennessee, and only one of us liked country music.
The Black dude.
“You know which album I’m listening to.” Somehow, this was becoming real.
“Lovely album, fantastic singer, great pipes, superb humanitarian, and I still would rather listen to Greek for 30 hours.”
“Greek?”
He grinned. “You know the expression,it’s all Greek to me? That’s what country music is to me.”
I sighed. “You’re missing out on a cultural phenomenon.”
“As you tell me often. I suspect you’ll be playing her album often in our new home?” He offered a baleful expression with his mouth drooping.
Our home. For reasons I didn’t understand, that didn’t feel monumental. Christian was just pointing out we’d find a place to live together. I’d listen to my country music, he’d play his classical—Bach being a favorite—and we’d coexist in a small space. Possibly a place smaller than the one-bedroom I was sharing with my asshat ex. “Leroy is in Jackson visiting his mother.”
Christian gave methatlook.
Fuck.
I winced. “I honestly thought he was.”
“Maybe he is. That’s not to say he’s not getting some ass on the side.” He gestured to his messenger bag—the one with all the photos inside it.
“He’s cheatingon me.”
“That’s entirely possible.”
“So, I should pack and we should go first thing in the morning.”
“That’s advisable. I can pack what I need in my room. Mom’s got Ladies’ Tea and Dad’s got work. I can load the car, and we can be on the road by ten.”
“Just like that?” This felt way too monumental to be doing anything so rash.
He checked his watch. “If you drive straight to the bank and tender your resignation, and take the accrued vacation, then yeah, that simple. Didn’t you say Lettie’s daughter wanted a job at the bank?”
“Yeah. Kitty.” Because, of course, our town’s biggest gossip would name her daughter with the same double consonant as herself.
“Give Kitty a recommendation. Even if she’s a total bomb, you’ll be long gone.”
“Kitty’s actually pretty smart.”
“Great! So you’re helping her out and giving the bank no reason to complain. You might not need a recommendation to get a new job—especially if you’re running your own business—but I say you should never burn bridges.”
“If we go, I’m never coming back.”
“Neither am I.”
“But Christian…” I floundered. “Your family, your friends, your job…they’re all here.”
“I could say the same for you. And yet, we’re off on an adventure. Call me tonight when you’re packing? We can decide what we can take, what we can donate, and what we can throw out.”
“Can Iaccidentallydonate Leroy’s beloved baseball card collection?”
