Page 12 of Losing Sleep
For starters, we wouldn’t be driving on winding mountain roads at night. And we’d still get to visit the cabin, just a day later than planned. While I was sad to miss Tory’s actual birthday, I was certain she’d pack the remaining days of our vacation full of activities. Not to mention, I’d get to see Hank and Dot again, twoof the most delightful humans in the world. We’d be okay. It was a change in plans, but I could pivot. Probably.
“You could have run over a nail literally anywhere. It could have happened at the burger place or the gas station or on the freeway. We’re just guessing it came from the cheese shop. It’s not your fault.” I worked to keep my tone reassuring, hoping to alleviate some of his frustration.
He turned to face me without sitting up, his elbows still on his knees. “True, but I’m still sorry. I’m sure spending the night in Hyrum was not high on your priority list when you planned this trip.”
I shrugged, trying to let go of my timeline once again. This trip was proving to be an unwanted lesson in flexibility. “Maybe not, but there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
Conversation faded between us, and I scrambled to think of something else to add. A snort escaped at the first thought that came to mind. Grey quirked an eyebrow, waiting for me to explain the sound.
“Believe it or not, this isn’t the worst trip delay I’ve ever experienced.” My lips tipped up in a slight smile as I became lost in memory. “My mom is spontaneous, to the point of it being problematic sometimes when I was growing up. She loaded me into the car one evening with little warning when I was probably ten, talking about visiting the Grand Canyon. We lived in California, so the drive was going to take half a day or longer.”
I trailed off, still amazed I didn’t have more stories like this when I thought about my mom and her tendency to act first and think later.
“What happened?” Grey straightened, watching the memories play across my face in what was probably a kaleidoscope of expressions.
“We made it about an hour into the drive before we ran out of gas. Mom had to push the car the last few yards to the gaspump.” I shook my head, my smile more one of sadness now than fondness. “She’d forgotten to fill up before we left. When we reached pump, she had just enough money to get us home. Don’t ask me how she thought we were going to make it to the Grand Canyon.”
I gave a shrug, downplaying the memory as something simply humorous rather than one of countless stories about how Mom’s lack of planning bit us. Understanding and compassion filled Grey’s expression, a combination I wasn’t prepared to navigate.
“Anyway,” I rushed to change the topic, ready to escape the trip down memory lane, “if we’re being honest, going on this trip wasn’t high on my list of priorities. Tory had to pull out all the friend guilt to get me to come. If it wasn’t her birthday trip, I probably would have backed out long before you showed up on my doorstep.”
“My dad used to say the best stories start where the best laid plans fall apart.” A small, sad smile tipped the corners of Grey’s mouth. “I can’t count the number of times he was right about that. Although spontaneous trips to the Grand Canyon might have pushed the limits on that a bit.”
He wasn’t wrong. The memory wasn’t entirely painful. Mom had let me pick out treats from the gas station, and we’d spent the drive home eating candy bars and laughing about our misadventure. At one point, Mom had even stopped at a park well past dark, grabbing a blanket from the car and spreading it in the grass. We’d laid there, attempting to star gaze, despite light pollution, until I could barely keep my eyes open.
Before I could respond, my phone vibrated with an incoming text. I held it up so Grey could see Tory’s message too.
TORY:My grandparents can’t wait for you to come stay. Gramps is already on his way to pick you up!
“I guess that settles it. I hope Dot and Hank like cheese curds.” I attempted to joke, and Grey cracked a half-hearted smile as we settled in to wait for our ride.
Chapter Six
Less than an hourlater, Grey and I found ourselves stuffed into the cab of Hank’s truck, an old pick-up that looked to be a relative of my own car, Jovi. I sat squeezed in the middle, doing my best to take up as little space as possible on the cracked upholstery. Grey sat pressed against the door like he was ready to bolt from the car at the first opportunity. Unfortunately, the cab was too small for us to keep from touching, and our thighs pressed together as we rode, every bump and jostle pushing us closer together. It was also too small for me to take my shoes off, though my toes itched to be free.
“Don’t worry,” Hank said with a pat on my knee as we left Logan behind, the busy streets transitioning to fields. “That tire shop does good work. They’ll get you back on the road first thing tomorrow.”
Hank was a tall, thin man wearing a faded green baseball cap and blue overalls. His white beard, a new feature since the last time I’d seen him, would have made Santa Claus proud. He drove slowly along the roads to Hyrum, not seeming to notice the number of cars passing us. Instead, he turned up the volume on a local radio station, country music crackling from the speakers. We passed fields and houses, the space a breath of fresh air after navigating the congestion of the Wasatch front on the freeway.
“Dot is beyond thrilled to have the two of you staying with us. You would think it was Thanksgiving or Christmas with how she’s rambling on. She’s running around like we’ve never had guests before.” Hank gave an exasperated shake of his head, but the grin tipping up his lips hinted at his own excitement as we turned onto Hank and Dot’s street.
It was a quiet, tree-lined road with few houses, fields creating distance between each home and its nearest neighbor.
“We’re just grateful you’d open your home to us,” Grey said.
We pulled up in front of Hank’s house, and I was immediately hit with a flood of memories. My own grandparents, while loving, lived states away and only visited for holidays and big life events. Tory had grown up an hour away from her grandparents, frequently taking weekend trips to visit them and help on the farm. Even when she’d moved to college, she’d made time to visit Hank and Dot. It was on those trips that I’d come to see how a family could be. Hours spent working, laughing, and teasing resulted in a community and closeness I could only dream of. Even now, with my much younger half-sisters, I sensed my mom getting that type of family. Unfortunately, now that I lived in Utah and they were still in California, the closeness didn’t include me. My childhood memories would forever be a mix of loneliness and anxiety peppered with impulsive fun, nothing like the happy, steady consistency of so many of my friends’ families.
One of the reasons Emily and I had become such close friends was because of our similar family situations. She’d grown up with a single—though much less impulsive—mom. She’d understood my struggles in a way no one else had, which had made losing her friendship even more difficult.
Pushing aside wishes for what could have been, I followed Grey out of the truck and to the large front porch lined with a flower garden full of bright blue and purple blooms. Dot stood next to two wooden rocking chairs on the porch, arms flung open in greeting, a giant smile emphasizing the wrinkles lining her face.
“Audrey.” She wrapped me in a firm hug, her head barely reaching my shoulder. “It’s been a long time. How are you, my dear?”
I returned the embrace, emotion gathering in my throat at the contact. I could feel the anxiety in my chest ease the slightest bit as I breathed in her familiar vanilla scent. It was like she’d been baking and decided to dab the spice behind her ears before putting the bottle away.
I cleared my throat before speaking, not wanting my emotions to show. “I’m good, Dot. Thank you for letting us stay here.”
Dot waved a hand, dismissing my gratitude. “It’s what family does. Now, introduce me to your man.”
