Page 31 of Vince
“Uh, butter pecan or caramel caribou,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“Great. Be right back. I’ll keep the Jeep running—so lock it when I leave.”
“Okay…” I draw out. But before I can say another word, Vince bolts out of the vehicle and darts into the store. I see him walk to the back of the store and return to the counter to pay for his purchase.
He returns with a bag and a beaming grin. He doesn’t say anything but puts his seat belt on and pulls back onto the highway. Just when I can’t take in any longer, he pulls into a scenic view of the gorge. He puts the Jeep in gear and sets the emergency brake to ensure we’re in park, then hops out.
What the hell is he doing now?
When the back of the Jeep opens, I hear him ask, “You getting out?”
“It’s practically dark out here. Where exactly are we going?”
“Trust me,” he says as he slams the back door.
Are those the famous last words heard by every serial killer’s victim?
I glance around the empty parking lot and see that we’re alone, and there’s only a few minutes left of daylight. When he opens my door and reaches over me to get the bag from the store, of course, all I can do is stare at him as my wheels spin trying to figure out his plan.
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Syd?”
Now that I look him over, I see he’s holding a blanket in one hand and the bag in the other. “Where’s your shovel?”
He looks to his blanket and bag in his hand. “Haha. There’s no light pollution here and if you get out, you’d see there’s a million stars showing at the moment. We can sit on the hood of my Jeep and lean against the windshield. I even brought dessert…” He waggles his eyebrows as he holds up the bag. “And… I’ll let you choose.”
“Okay… you’ve got me. What do I get to choose?” I’m the worst at being kept in the dark. I hop out of the Jeep, and somehow Vince catches me when I wobble on the uneven ground, even with his hands full.
As soon as I’m steady on my feet, he hands me the bag with a warning. “Hold this for just a sec. Once we get settled, you can see your surprise.”
Even though it’s almost dark, I see his eyes dance with mischief. He expertly unzips the blanket in a bag he’s holding and spreads it across the hood. Of course, the hood of his Jeep is nearly up to my shoulders, so I ask, “Exactly how do you expect me to get up there? The beached-whale look isn’t good on me, I promise.”
Without a word, Vince takes the bag from my hands and sets it in the middle of the blanket. Then his hands quickly land on my waist as he lifts me like I don’t weigh nearly one hundred and forty pounds. With my ass firmly on the hood of his Jeep, he says, “Get comfortable. I’ll come up from the other side.”
Instead of lying against the windshield with my legs in front of me, I pull them in, sitting crisscross, and face the view of the river below and an infinite number of stars above me. The sky’s a dark shade of purple, and you can see boats low below us on the water. With the sun setting behind us, the stars are more vibrant in this direction.
Vince effortlessly hoists himself onto the hood of his Jeep, as if he’s been doing this for years and even though it’s cool, my body heats the closer he gets. Like a kid on Christmas morning, he eagerly digs into the bag he’s brought us.
“I managed to find caramel caribou and praline pecan. Which do you prefer?” He pulls out two pints of ice cream and two spoons wrapped in plastic. “I’m sure this would be better in the summer, but we’ll improvise. If you get too cold, we can hop back in the Jeep. But it’s a rare clear night, so I thought we could make this an official date—by having dessert. I have an extra jacket in the back if you need it, too.”
I’ve got a long-sleeved shirt under this hoodie. “I should be good for a while. I’ll take the caramel,” I say as I reach out my hand for the pint he’s holding out for me.
Setting the container on the blanket beside me, I work to take off the lid. Taking a heaping dollop, I moan in pleasure of the caramel goodness.
“That good, huh?” Vince asks as he takes a bite of his own treat.
“Ice cream is my weakness. I’ll never refuse it. Especially if caramel’s involved.”
“Good to know. So… are we considering this a second date now?” Vince teases after scooping some for himself.
I look around us, pretending to contemplate my response. “I suppose so. Though if we’re ever asked, we’re saying it started from here. No need to mention my mental episode.”
“Stop.” Vince’s tone is stern, catching me off guard. Immediately, I’m frozen in place as my eyes lock onto his. Once he’s sure he has my attention, he continues, “If the shoe was on the other foot, I would’ve jumped to the same conclusions. Let’s put it behind us and focus on something else.” He looks up to the sky for a moment before asking, “Tell me… what was it like living in Eastern Washington growing up? Were you able to see the stars better than this?”
“Well, I grew up in a town where I actually remember when the first traffic light went in—if that tells you something.” Honestly, I couldn’t wait to leave– but it had more to do with my family than the town itself. But instead of going down that rabbit hole, I get back to his question at hand. “Let’s see… If you went ten minutes out of town, you could see the stars for what felt like a million miles in every direction. One thing I miss about living there was experiencing all four seasons each year. That’s something you don’t get here at CRU. Summers are hot and winters are cold—but it’s dry—so it doesn’t seem as extreme.”
Vince nods in the darkness. “That makes sense. What was it like growing up as an only child?”
He remembered that small tidbit. Hmmm… “I don’t really know any other way. Mom had to work a lot to make ends meet—so I stayed with my grams. Since I was her only grandchild, we spent our time in the kitchen—that’s where I learned to bake.”
