Page 11 of The Reluctant Reaper
17 black T-shirts
1 white T-shirt
28 pairs heavy socks, various colors
1 pair black boots
2 pairs flats, the navy and the red
32 pairs panties, various colors
1 white bra
1 black bra
Double Stuf Oreos (indeterminate amount, whatever fits)
1 bottle Milk Shake Color Care shampoo
1 bottle Milk Shake Color Care conditioner
1 bottle Milk Shake leave-in conditioner spray
2 disposable razors
3 boxes chocolate fudge Pop-Tarts
1 case beef jerky
4 spare contact lens cases
2 gallons contact solution
ChapterSeven
Well before 9/11 made flying even more of an ordeal, Amara loved trains. The speed and comfort. The leg room. The dining car. The lack of shoe removal, full body scanners, and cavity searches. The way farmland slid by at all hours. The way you could lie in your sleeper bunk in the dark and listen to the great and terrible machine as it took you away, away, away.
“Oh. My. God.” Gray couldn’t contain his pleased amazement, doing a Julie Andrews–style twirl on the platform.The hills are aliiiiiiiiive...“Your dad has his own train?”
“Not his own train.” She poked him in the back so he’d board the damned train already. “His own railcar.”
“It’s cute how you’re trying to downplay all the awesome. And those are real? I’ve only seen them in movies. Well, one movie.” Gray had been unbearably cute since he wore Amara down and invited himself along. “How have we been friends so long and I’m only now seeing your private car?”
“Yes, they’re real. Amtrak will let just about anyone latch a private car.”
“That’s so cool! You guys are like a royal family!”
She sighed as she followed him into the car. “Are you seriously taking pictures right now?”
“I hate when you ask questions when you already know the answer. You know, that thing you say I do all the time? Smile!” Click.
“Never.” She took the three lush, carpeted steps downstairs, stowed her carry-on in the first bedroom, and came back up. “I still can’t believe I’m letting you come along.”
“I still can’t believe your posh railcar has stairs and you packed six suitcases.”
“Four, you doof. We’ll probably just be there over the weekend, anyway.”
Amara doubted it would matter to Gray if they were stuck in Minot for a month. He employed multiple side hustles: legal transcriptionist, medical transcriptionist, paid surveys with Prolific, and the occasional book review forKirkus. Well before the pandemic, Gray had a viable work-from-home setup, one he could take on the road whenever he liked.
