Page 19 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

“So what exactly are my options?” I was hoping if I kept rephrasing the question, the news would get better, but the older woman behind the desk tapped her nails on the keyboard, unmoved.

“At this point, sir, my best suggestion would be to look at ground transit.”

“A car?”

Brit had been quiet thus far, letting me be the sole bane of this woman’s existence, but she perked up at that.

“Road trip, Nick!” she said, tugging on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. She’d texted me the moment the sun had come up, asking if I wanted to get a coffee before we started this marathon day of trying to get home. I’d taken her up on it for the same host of reasons I’d spent the night berating myself for, and when she’d shown up with her pink hair pinned up all wild like Medusa, I’d had to laugh at myself at how much I dug it.

She’d also left me hanging on our twin gig when she’d dressed this morning. While I was still claiming allegiance to the Texans, she’d purchased a novelty T-shirt somewhere between the hotel and the airport, and had it tied in a knot above her midriff. The shirt saidEverything is Hotter in Texas. It was . . . distracting.

I pried my eyes from Brit’s stomach and looked back at the woman. “How long does it take to drive to New York from here?” I asked, pulling out my phone to put it in Google before she could answer.

“I was actually going to suggest a combined trip,” she said. Her name tag said Darla and she looked old enough to retire before the next customer stepped into line. She was probably questioning her entire career at the moment. “See, darlin’, the storm’s headed south down the coast. If you drive straight through to New York, you’ll likely hit it in D.C. and be stranded again.”

Darla’s pleasant twang didn’t make that news any easier to stomach.

“What’s the alternative?” Brit asked. Weirdly, her excitement seemed to build in tandem with my irritation.

“If you drive east, you can pick up the train in Georgia by tomorrow. It’s an overnight trip from there to New York, and you’ll make better time because you won’t have to stop to sleep. I think y’all will be pleased as punch with the sleeper cars.” She winked at Brit. “Rail travel is quite romantic.”

“Oh, can we, Nicky?”

Brit was practically vibrating now, her huge eyes sparkling.

“You can,” I told her. “I’ll even drop you at a closer station on the way.”

Darla gave me a death glare.

“We’re not togeth—” I started to explain but Brit tugged my arm, pulling me away from the desk.

“You know, Nick, driving without me will double your trip time. Think about it. It’s—” she grabbed my phone and checked the map I had pulled up “—twenty-four hours of drive time from here to New York. Maybe you luck out and miss the storm, but that’s a couple of nights of hotels if you drive by yourself.” She swiped the screen. “Orrra half day to Georgia, we split the driving, and sleep the rest of the way home overnight.” She cocked her hip. “You kinda need me.”

This was the most rational thing that had come out of her mouth since we’d met and still, for some undetermined reason, I had a bad feeling. Maybe it was just the idea of driving east for a whole day when I could just head in a straight line. I’d always been a straight-line kind of guy. Or maybe part of me questioned whether I should commit to being in a confined space with her for that long. I was staring at her stomach right then when I should have been working out a plan.

But she was right. It would take days without someone else to share the driving, and even if I could convince her to just drive straight to New York with me, I’d be damned if I was going to make it all the way to D.C. just to get stranded in the same snowstorm that had stuck us here.

“Okay,” I breathed. Brit squealed and clapped her hands. Darla looked “pleased as punch.”

Brit hoisted her bag over her shoulder and headed toward the driver’s side door of the fucking Range Rover I’d just charged to my credit card. There’d been a run on rental cars too, which I probably should have considered, and by the time we’d finished with Darla and headed to the counter, this was my only option.

I shook my head at Brit and jutted a thumb at the passenger door. She gave me a dramatic pout. This ride was decked-out. I explored some of the features as I slid into the driver’s side—heated leather, moonroof, full screen nav. We’d be riding in style, but it was a completely unnecessary expense.

I banked most of my salary since my truck belonged to the company, and I basically lived for free by renting out the other side of the two-story duplex I owned, but if my dad had taught me anything, it was that poor men spent and rich men saved. Making last-minute travel arrangements in competition with hundreds of other people didn’t leave much option to save.

We’d need at least one night in a hotel, and the sleeper cars on the train weren’t cheap. I cursed Alex as I added it all up.

“So, what’s the route?” Brit asked, buckling her seatbelt.

I pulled up the map I’d saved on my phone, forwarding the link to her. “Here. You’re the navigator on this leg of the trip.” I knew that would make her happy and keep me behind the wheel for as long as I could stay awake. Part of the logic was to share the driving, but after watching her climb in, I wasn’t entirely sure she could see over the steering wheel of this thing. “I’m plugging the route into the nav too, but we’ll need to make a couple stops if we’re going to be traveling for two days. Clothes, food. You’re in charge of that, okay?”

She gave me a mock salute.

It was mid-morning by the time we got on the road, and this leg of the trip would be ten hours, give or take, with meals, gas, and a supply run. We’d stop in Mobile for the night, and from there, we’d be five hours to Savannah—an easy drive on a full night’s sleep, and plenty of time to spare before the train left. That wasn’t something I was willing to cut close.

After I’d given up on trying to get on a stand-by flight last night, I’d resigned myself to breaking the news to my dad. We had two projects up for finance applications, one of which my dad had been planning for over a year, and I had no idea when I’d be back to handle the last-minute paperwork for him.

He relied on me for this stuff in the best of times, but considering how things were with my mom, I needed to be there more than ever. She was a full-time job for both of us now and I couldn’t imagine how he’d do it all without me. Which meant that by getting myself stranded, I was simultaneously failing both at completing my brother’s list and my job.

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