Judy’s mouth opened in a circle and she nodded slowly. “That’s right.” She then started the car, shifted into first, shifted back to park, and turned off the engine. She dropped her head on the steering wheel and cried. She cried and cried.
Joy glanced at her watch, then poked Judy in the shoulder. “We have to go.”
“We were supposed to get married,” Judy wailed. “We had plans and he ruined them. With her!” She smacked the steering wheel and continued to cry, deep, guttural sobs.
Joy sat quietly, fidgeting with her watch. “I’m sorry he did this to you.”
Judy snorted and wiped her nose. “I never thought he’d cheat on me.” She whimpered.
Joy leaned forward and stroked Judy’s hair. “He knew you were coming to the party. Maybe you didn’t see what you thought you saw. Are you sure it was him?”
“Yes!” she said, lifting her head. She frowned. “I think. I don’t know. Itwasdark.” She sniffled and snorted. “Maybe you’re right.” She wiped her face with her shirtsleeve and smiled weakly over her shoulder. “Thanks, sis.” Judy looked out the back window. “Maybe I should talk to him now.”
Joy glanced at her watch. “We should go. Mom and Dad are going to be home. Call him tomorrow.”
“I don’t know ...” She didn’t make a move to leave.
“Judy, come on!” Joy panicked. “Mom and Dad can’t find out that you drove me up here.”
“I did not drive you!”
“Whatever, just drive. I promise I’ll do all of your chores for the entire summer.” Joy was desperate.
Judy ripped the key from the ignition. “You drive.”
“What?”
“I can’t. I drank too much.”
“You were supposed to stop. You said you would,” Joy whined.
“No, I didn’t.”
“How am I supposed to get home?”
“You drive us.” She rattled the keys. “You can do it.”
Joy violently shook her head, thinking of the road’s steep decline and curves that hugged the mountainside. They didn’t call it the Rim of the World Highway for nothing.
“You’re a good driver, Joy. You’ve driven plenty on Gramps’s ranch, big trucks and tractors. They work just like this car.”
But that was different. The dirt roads around his crops were straight and flat.
“I’ll sit beside you.” Judy scooted across the bench seat. “I’ll guide you down the hill, and I can take the wheel if you need help.”
Joy stared at her sister, petrified.
“Let’s go or we’ll be late,” Judy snapped, sounding impatient herself.
What to do? What to do?
She swallowed the lump in her throat and weighed her options. Three months of extra chores were better than three months grounded. The drive home was only forty minutes, fifty if she drove slowly, which she planned to do. And Judy would be right beside her. She could take over if Joy panicked.
“All right,” she said, her agreement whisper-thin. She climbed into the driver’s seat. Judy gave her the keys. Joy’s gaze drifted over the dashboard. The controls and panels looked the same as their grandpa’s old truck. She slid the key into the ignition. Foot on the brake like Gramps taught her, she started the car. The engine rumbled under the hood and Joy relaxed. It even sounded like Gramps’s old truck. She adjusted the mirrors and the seat, latched her belt, then gripped the steering wheel in the ten and two positions.
“See? You got this.” Judy smiled.
Joy looked at her sister’s lap. No belt. “What about you?”