Page 78 of Roommate
“Okay,” she says, giving a sniff. “It’ll have to do.”
“Give me like an hour,” I tell her. After I disconnect the call, I text my brother to make sure he’s available for this little charade.
“Everything okay?” Roderick asks.
“Yeah, you know, just the parents. They’re exhausting.” He leans over to decorate another cookie, and it gives me an idea. “Hey, Roddy?”
“Yes?”
“I gotta go to my folks’ place for a couple hours.”
“Oh. Okay.” His shoulders droop. “I’ll put the roast in while you’re gone.”
“I was going to ask if you want to come with me. You wanted a Christmas tree, right?”
He straightens up immediately, setting the pastry bag down with a thunk. “Of course I want a tree.”
“Then drive out there with me. I’ll cut down two, and we’ll bring one home. We’ll need a stand, though,” I say, thinking this over. “And some lights.”
“Not a problem,” Rod says happily. “The drugstore has all that stuff. This is great! How big a tree do you think will fit in the living room? The ceiling is pretty high.”
“Whoa there, fella. Just because we have a twelve foot ceiling doesn’t mean we need a monster tree.”
“Where do you cut trees around here, anyway?”
“Oh, on our farm,” I say. “We have a couple rows of them planted, just for this.”
“And they won’t mind if one goes missing?” he asks, looking happy.
“They wouldn’t dare. Who do you think pruned those fuckers this summer? Get your coat.”
* * *
“It’s the next turn-off,” I say an hour later as I wind my truck up the hill toward my parents’ place. A light snow has begun to fall.
“Kind of a long drive from the high school,” Rod says.
“Yeah, but our land is zoned for Walden, which is a sending town.” That’s what we call a town that’s not big enough to have its own high school. “We had school choice. And all our cousins went to Colebury. So did my parents.”
“So it’s a tradition to drive twenty miles to school.”
“Pretty much. When I was in ninth grade, Kyle drove me. And of course my father had me take the driver’s test the week of my birthday.”
“Getting my license was like magic,” he says, leaning his head against the headrest. “I wanted freedom so fucking bad.”
“Same.”
Roderick is humming a Christmas carol and looking out the passenger window. “It’s pretty up here,” he says as the snowflakes fall slowly past us.
“Yeah.” But I feel suddenly reluctant to show him this place where I grew up. “It’s not like my aunt Ruth’s place, though. It’s not party central.”
“I’m just here to watch you chop down a tree with an ax.”
“If I use a hand saw, is that a dealbreaker?”
“Nope!” he says cheerfully. “Just flex for me while you’re doing it.”
It’s all fun and games until I pull up to find Kyle’s truck missing. “Oh, hell.”
