Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
We made love at night, though not with the joyful abandon we had at the Garcias’ home. The sex in the back of the car in the pitch black was needier, more grasping, even if we managed to laugh about the ridiculous maneuvers made necessary by the tiny space. I’d wondered about whether we’d have made out in back seats had life as we’d known it not crashed and burned and so I tried to enjoy the reclaiming of what I’d considered lost. A smoothing of another one of those wrinkles in time.
After just such a back seat interlude on the second night of traveling, I climbed out of the car, mostly naked, and pulled a sleeping bag from the trunk. I wrapped it around me and then scooted up on the hood of the car and lay back. After a minute, Tuck joined me with the other sleeping bag, and we stared up at the stars.
“We could be in California tomorrow night,” I said. He’d shown me the route he thought safest on the map, and I’d been following the signs.
“If all goes well, I estimate we can get close before sunset. We’ll play it safe and cross the California state line the next morning.” I heard him look over at me but didn’t turn to meet his eyes. “Home,” he said softly.
So why didn’t it feel like that? Of course it was home. I’d lived in Southern California all my life. My family was there. It was our destination, and we’d arrive in less than twenty-four hours if all went well. We should feel victorious. Sure, there were many unknowns, and a vast number of challenges before us. But we’d made it. We’d started out on foot two thousand miles ago and we were almost home! And all I could feel was sadness and fear. “Home,” I finally repeated, turning to him. His eyes were milky in the low light of the moon, and I could only make out the shadowy lines of his profile. “We did it.”
He reached over and grasped my hand. “We did,” he said. “Almost.”
Almost. Such a big word in a time like this. I craved more. Certainty. Predictability. “What do you think it’s going to be like there?”
“I’d imagine it’s going to be like it is here. Los Angeles is my worry.”
“Los Angeles. I thought we were going directly to my parents?”
“We are.” He paused. “I’m going to bring you to them, and then I’m going to go to Los Angeles and check on my uncle.” He was quiet again for a moment, and a pain shot through my stomach. “He was there for me when I needed him, even when I didn’t deserve it. I owe him. He might be in trouble, and I owe him.”
He owed him. To his mind, Tuck owed a lot of people. That had even been his motivation for helping me—and Charlie—get home initially. He’d owed it to my parents. It was his driving force. Repaying debts, making amends. And I wanted to be angry and resentful at him for that, but I couldn’t. He was honorable and good. But I was deeply worried that his honor meant more to him than I did. “If your uncle needs somewhere to stay, you know, out of the city…bring him to my parents.”
“Your parents might just have enough to get by—”
“Tuck.” I squeezed his hand. “We’ll make room for your uncle. And you too. You know that.” And though I meant it, I also hoped that if Tuck’s uncle was there at our farm, it would give Tuck even more reason to stay.
Pitiful, Emily. Desperately trying to give Tuck a reason to stay, other than just…you.
“I’ve also been thinking about my dad,” Tuck said somewhat haltingly. “We’ve been estranged for so many years but…he’s still the man who raised me.”
I could see his sadness and conflict. It was the first time he’d mentioned his dad since we started this trip. This new reality had changed perspective for everyone. Priorities had crumbled and shifted. How could they not? And Tuck had that deep thread of honor that wove through him.
“Florida’s gotta be okay, right?” I said. “So much sunshine…and all that fishing…”
“There’s no way to know. That’s been the hardest part. Even behind bars, we were never this cut off.”
I stared up at the twinkling stars, the sky so infinite above us. Yes, it was true we were cut off in so many ways, but in others, the world had expanded. There was so much to adjust to and relearn. I couldn’t even wrap my head around it all.
“Let’s get somewhere safe and then we’ll see what’s what.”
“That’s the plan,” he said and then he gathered me in his arms. An uncertain plan, but a plan nonetheless. I lay my head on his shoulder as a star shot across the sky, brilliant and beautiful and gone too soon.