Page 71 of Love in Tandem
“That’s okay. We only have a couple hundred miles left.” Charlotte tried not to think about the words that had just come out of her mouth. A couple hundred? Only?
“We still need to eat,” Zach pointed out. “We’re down to nickels and dimes for the rest of the trip. Enough for a few protein bars, maybe one more packet of butt cream.”
Earl snickered. “I don’t even want to know what that means,” he said, digging into his pocket and pulling out some folded cash. “But here. Take this. It ought to cover some grub.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Charlotte said with little conviction since her stomach was already growling.
“Nah, take it.” Earl shoved the cash into her hand, then spun to rummage through the back of his truck. “Should have a tent in here too. Nothing fancy, mind you. Used it back in my Boy Scout days. Now I mostly just use it to keep guts from mucking up the truck. Ah, here we go.” He hauled out a crusty-looking pile of fabric. “Do a little taxidermy work on the side. But hey, better than nothing, right?”
Charlotte forced her lips into a smile and grabbed the stinky armload, quickly handing it off to Zach.
“Oh. Wow. Thanks.” Zach tried handing the tent back to Earl. “But I really don’t know how we would carry it since we don’t have our trailer, so . . .”
A bag smacked Zach in the face.
“Sorry,” Earl said with a laugh. “Just got excited I could provide that too. What an unusual morning this is turning out to be. If I discover what happened to the rest of your things, I’ll figure out a way to let you know.”
Slamming the bed of his truck shut, Earl offered a quick wave. “I better get back to the lake. And this time to my usual spot. Can’t pass up a day like this when the fish are sure to be biting.” He climbed into his truck, shooting another wave out the window.
Charlotte and Zach watched him drive away, neither saying anything for a minute. “Well,” Charlotte said, eventually breaking the silence. “I guess we got our miracle, right?”
“Right.” Zach cast a doubtful look first to the mangy tent in his arms, then to Charlotte. “You do realize how many miles we’re going to need to bike today.”
“Enough miles I’ll hopefully be so exhausted I won’t care that I’m sleeping in a blood-encrusted tent with nothing but the skunky stench of roadkill guts surrounding me.”
Zach shoved the putrid contents into the worn Army-green canvas backpack Earl had also clearly used for decades, then swung the bag over his shoulders, sliding his arms through the straps. “Just making sure we’re on the same page,” he said with a wink.
Around noon they stopped at a sandwich shop connected to a gas station for some much-needed nourishment.
“We’re making good time,” Charlotte said, unclipping her helmet and lifting the smashed ponytail from the nape of her neck to allow some blessed relief. “The wind must be on our backs.”
Or maybe Zach’s confession of love had given her more energy than she wanted to admit. Especially when she was only supposed to be thinking about making it to the finish line.
Eighty miles today. Another eighty tomorrow. Then fifty. She could do it. She would do it. She’d save her music program and build a nest egg for her mom’s health all in one cross of the finish line.
Then once that was settled, maybe she could figure out what to do about Zach. And his confession of love. And all her spiraling thoughts about wanting to kiss the lips that had offered that confession of love.
She scrunched her eyes shut. So much for not thinking about it.
“Here.” Zach tapped her arm and handed her some of the money Earl had given them, thankfully focusing all her thoughts on her ravenous stomach. “Do you mind grabbing the sandwiches this time? I’ll wait for you at the picnic bench across the road.”
“Sounds good.” Charlotte clutched the folded bill to her chest. “And God bless Earl.”
“And God bless Earl,” Zach echoed back, sounding downright reverent until he added, “I’m gonna take a leak behind one of those bushes so I can keep an eye on the bike. Don’t forget the spicy pickles.”
“Spicy pickles. Got it.”
The air conditioning bathed Charlotte’s overheated skin in divine bliss as soon as she stepped inside the gas station. She inhaled the delicious aroma of bread wafting from the connected sandwich shop.
But first, the bathroom.
Charlotte had just flushed the toilet and stepped out of the stall when a young woman with wild curls burst into the restroom, a baby in one arm, a whimpering toddler in the other.
“We’re almost there,” the young woman said to the little girl in a frantic shout. “Just keep holding it.” Her gaze landed on Charlotte. “You mind?”
Before Charlotte could answer, the drooly baby was shoved into her arms. She didn’t know who was more alarmed, the infant or herself. “I haven’t washed my hands,” Charlotte stammered.
“Don’t care,” the mother said, rushing the toddler into a stall.
