Page 63 of The Roads We Follow

Surprised by my lack of foresight at the number of bunks versus the number of passengers, I ask, “So where will that leave you until she can secure a flight out?”

“I’ll be fine on the couch.”

“No way,” I counter. “You can take my bunk. If she ends up staying with us overnight, I’ll take the couch.”

“Micah, your sleep is far more valuable than mine—no one else can drive this thing, remember?”

“Shhhh.” Hattie says draping an arm over her eyes. “Can you two fight over sleep later, please? You sound like new parents.”

Raegan shrugs as if to say,Guess that solves that, only it absolutely does not solve anything. There’s no way I’m sleeping in a bunk while she takes the couch in the living area. Not happening.

She touches my arm, and my skin ignites. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

“Then consider yourself my new favorite person.”

“Shhhh,” hisses Hattie again. “It feels like a woodpecker is breaking through my skull.”

“What happened to you?” Adele asks in a tone that reflects no grace.

Hattie groans and flops an arm over her eyes. “Too many vodka tonics happened to me.”

On her way back to the bunk hall, Cheyenne places her hand on Hattie’s head. “You should drink a Pedialyte and eat some saltines, Aunt Hattie. It’s the best cure for a hangover.”

“And you would know that how?” Adele chirps. “Last I checked you were still nineteen.”

Cheyenne’s eyes are definitely wide awake now. “I’m in college, Mom.”

“Oh? Are you back in college again? I can’t keep track of your ever-evolving future.”

Cheyenne huffs a frustrated sigh and keeps walking. “I need more sleep before we start this up again.”

“You know who else sleeps during the day, darling?” Adele calls to her daughter while Hattie cups her hands to her ears. “People who drop out of college and have to work the graveyard shift just to pay their electricity bill.”

“Everyone.Please.Stop.Talking.”

I look to the back bedroom door where Luella has unceremoniously closed herself inside and wait to see if she’ll come out and offer to pray for the day the way she’s done every time we’ve started on the road, but she stays put. Perhaps Raegan comes by her avoidance tendencies naturally.

I scan the rest of the passengers in the lounge and wonder if they all do. “Mind if I say a prayer for our drive? I’ll make it quick, Hattie.”

Raegan stops fiddling with the coffeemaker and bows her head. I do the same and then offer up a prayer for the safety of those traveling in the direction of the oncoming windstorm. It’s not until after I sayamenand take my seat behind the wheel that I realize I should have prayed for the safety of those in the eye of the storm brewing inside this rig, as well.

17

Raegan

Despite the short night and early start, I’m thankful for Micah’s quick thinking to get us out of harm’s way when he did. He seems to have a knack for that. Red Cross should really make him their volunteer of the month.

In addition to his navigational app anchored to the dash, I have the weather app open on my phone, feeling safer with every mile we travel north—so safe I doze off more than once, waking each time my head bangs against the passenger side window.

“Go take my bunk, Raegan,” Micah says for the tenth time. “Please.”

I straighten in my seat and then pivot the AC vent closest to me so it blasts cold air directly into my eyeballs. “I’m staying up here for moral support.”

He laughs. “Hate to break it to you, but your moral support could use some work.” He taps the digital map with his pointer finger. “According to this, we’ll be in Wichita in two hours. Should be agood place for you to make your phone call, which is yet another reason for you to consider taking a nap now.”

If I wasn’t so exhausted, I’d argue that my motion sickness might keep me up in the back while we drive, but I don’t think that will be the case today. I can barely keep my head upright on my neck. And he’s right, if I have any hope of having a coherent conversation with Chip, then I need my thoughts to be clear. “You promise you’ll be okay up here?”

He lifts his coffee. “I’m good, although I’ll miss the entertainment of watching you fight against sleep. And here I thought my two-year-old niece Hannah was bad.”

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