Page 17 of The Roads We Follow

“Micah,” I supply. “It’s nice to meet you, Hattie.”

“Wow.” Her eyes widen. “Has anyone ever told you how much you resemble a younger version of Ryan Reynolds? Seriously.” She tips her head to the side. “I’m somewhat of an expert on him these days. I’ve been watching a lot of his old movies—The Proposalis my favorite.” When her perusal of my features lingers a bit too long, I’m positive I’ve never felt more uncomfortable in my life.

“Um, I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

“Really?” She pulls out her phone. “Here, I’ll show you. Apart from your widow’s peak, you two could be brothers. Can I take your picture?”

“Hattie.” An exasperated voice from my right causes my gaze to jump from the middle Farrow sister to the woman beside me—Sunny Bear? Is that what Hattie had called her? If that’s her actual name, it’s no wonder she prefers Cinderella.

“What? I was simply going to do a quick photo comparison of Ryan inThe Proposaland Micah here.” Hattie blinks her thick black eyelashes as if she’s not at all embarrassed of her blatant attempts at flirting. “There’s nothing indecent about giving a compliment to a handsome man.”

In this moment, the perspiration gathering at the back of my neck would beg to differ.

“I’m an unattached woman,” Hattie continues, undeterred. “According to ChatGPT, that’s the proper terminology.Freeis synonymous withcheap, and I’m definitely not that.”

“Yes, Hattie, but you being an unattached woman doesn’t mean that he’s an unattached man who wants to be ogled. He could be married with four children for all you know.”

I choke on my own saliva at the quick—yet odd—defense from Sunny Bear.

“So are you?” Hattie’s point-blank assertiveness makes me forget the question.

“Am I what?” I ask.

“Married with four children?”

Both women seem to await my answer, which in and of itself is not complicated, but there are other complications that should very much be considered in this strange and awkward conversation. Like the fact that Hattie and I possibly share fifty percent of our DNA. “I’m not married, and no, I don’t have children. Just twin nieces.”

Hattie’s grin is triumphant as she looks to my advocate, but before any more can be said on the topic, the bus door opens again. Adele enters holding a to-go coffee in one hand and a phone to her ear with the other. Luella follows her eldest daughter inside. Though I only saw her an hour or so ago, the surreal feeling I get each time I’m around her hasn’t faded.

Adele halts her stride when she catches sight of Hattie. Her eyebrows raise ever-so-slightly as she scans her outfit, and I get the distinct impression that this is not typical road-trip attire for the middle Farrow sister. Without pausing her conversation on the phone, she continues on through the bunk hall and into Luella’s bedroom at the rear of the bus. She closes the door behind her, leaving the four of us to stare at one another. Unlike her animal-print-wearing daughter, who is likely down one pair of matching unmentionables due to an unfortunate luggage incident, Luella is wearing all white with flashy silver accessories. She holds out a coffee tray with four drinks inside it.

“Forgive me, Micah, I wasn’t expecting that coffee run with Jana to take so long. There was more traffic on this random Saturday morning than before Willie Nelson’s last concert, but I knew I’d need to butter you up before asking you to maneuver Old Goldie through a coffee drive-through line.” Her eyes hold a kindness I don’t expect.

“There’s no need for buttering me up, ma’am. I’m happy to drive wherever you want to go—coffee drive-throughs and all.” I take the flimsy tray from her and allow her to pass out the drinks.

“Ah, what a gentleman you are. Thank you, Micah,” Luella says. “I regret not being back in time to introduce you to everyone myself like I’d planned on, although I know you and Adele were acquainted last week on a call.” She tiffs and shakes her head. “Some days I think she’s forgotten how to communicate face-to-face since she’s on that phone so much.” She hands a coffee to Hattie, then places mine on the table. I’m expecting it when she hands one to Sunny Bear, but instead of leaving the last drink in the tray for when her youngest daughter joins us, Luella takes the last coffee for herself. The drink carrier is now empty.

She blows on the steam swirling out the spout of her coffee even though it’s close to a hundred degrees outside. “Other than Jana requesting a proper good-bye hug from everyone, I think we’re ready to push off.”

Confused, I glance at the two ladies standing nearest the exit and wonder, not for the first time, why nobody has addressed the whereabouts of Luella’s youngest daughter. Had plans changed? Or maybe the pick-up location had changed? “Will your youngest daughter be joining us farther down the road, then? Raegan, isn’t it?”

Luella removes her lips from the coffee lid and shifts her gaze from me to the far end of the lounge.

“Uh, right,” Sunny Bear stammers. “I was going to—”

But Luella cuts her off mid-sentence. “You see, this is why I always say proper introductions are a lost art in today’s world.” Luellatsksand makes a beckoning motion in two directions. Mine and Sunny Bear’s.

“Micah, please allow me to introduce you to my youngest daughter, Raegan. And Raegan, please allow me to introduce you to Micah Davenport, Lynn’s oldest son.”

I was wrong.

This right hereis without a doubt the most uncomfortable feeling I’ve experienced in my entire life. If there was any way I could go back in time and filter every thought I’ve had about Raegan upon meeting her through this one vital piece of information, I wouldagree to it without hesitation. Because as it stands now, I’m not sure whether to turn myself over for waterboarding or forfeit my license as a therapist.

For reasons I can only guess at, the stunned expression on Raegan’s face morphs into something unreadable. But then Hattie steps between us and blocks my view of her entirely. “I’ve always wanted to meet Lynn’s sons.” I’m so caught off-guard by the spontaneous hug she gives me that I nearly miss when Raegan excuses herself, disappears down the stairwell, and exits the bus.

There’s so much I don’t understand in this moment, but I do know I have to follow her.

As politely as possible, I remove myself from Hattie’s embrace, slip out the exit, and jog to catch up to Raegan before she makes it through the front door of a mansion that could hold at least four of my childhood homes inside it.

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