Page 45 of Love in the Stacks
I walk through the automatic doors, Adam trailing close behind me, passing rows of fire pits and foldable lawn chairs. We enter the second set of doors, and I’m hit by several sensations all at once. I smell the barbecue and candied nuts right away. I hear the din of voices from the dozens of people walking around the huge store, and then, loudly, “Fresh brisket on the board!” Finally, I see shelves and racks lined with kitschy merchandise. Some of it features the cartoon face of Buc-ee the Beaver, while some are pieces of folksy home decor and accessories.
I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder and turn to see Adam’s wide eyes taking it all in. “Seriously, Nicole,” he says. “What is this place?”
I laugh but don’t answer him. “Restrooms are that way,” I say after spotting the sign. “I’ll see you at the meat counter after.”
A few minutes later, I find Adam watching the workers cut up the large slabs of beef brisket.
“Hey,” I say as I sidle up next to him.
“Hey,” he responds. “Those bathrooms were…”
I laugh. “I know. Not like other gas station bathrooms you’ve been to, huh?”
He shakes his head. “Actually, as a rule, I don’t stop at gas station bathrooms. Don’t trust them. But here … it was so clean. So many stalls.So many people.”
He shifts his focus back to the meat counter. “What do you recommend?”
“Sliced brisket sandwich, for sure. I mean, the chopped is fine, but I think the ratio of meat to sauce works better on the sliced.”
“Sliced it is.” Adam picks up two wrapped brisket sandwiches from the warming tray and hands one to me.
“Let’s get a basket,” I say.
We step around a few groups of people, and I see a stack of shopping baskets near a rack of chips. I take one for myself, placing my sandwich gently inside, and then hand another to Adam.
“There are a few more snacks I want to find,” I tell him. “Why don’t you look around and I’ll meet you at the register near where we came in?”
He shrugs. “Sounds good.”
I get to the registers just as Adam is unloading his basket to cash out.
“How much are you buying?” I exclaim when I see the pile of food and merchandise in front of him.
He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I don’t know. Just what I needed. This place is amazing.”
I grin as he sets a black T-shirt adorned with the cartoonish face of Buc-ee the Beaver on the counter. He adds fudge, chips, and beef jerky to the stack. The next item really catches my attention.
“What are those?” I squeal gleefully.
Adam holds up the bag and shakes it. “Sour gummy worms,” he says with a shrug.
“I figured you’d pick something practical and nutritious,” I tease.
Adam scoffs, “This is a road trip, Nicole. Now is not the time for healthy snacks.”
“So much for your rules.” I nudge him with my elbow and grin.
“I’m following road trip rules,” he says sensibly. “Normal-life rules don’t apply on the road.” He winks.
Oh my gosh. I feel like a character in one of those old sitcoms when I suddenly want to chime, “Who are you, and what have you done with Adam?” But I can’t stop grinning. This is fun. Adam is fun.
Adam fills up the gas tank while I sit in the passenger seat and inhale my sandwich. So good. Oh, Buc-ee’s sliced brisket, I’ve missed you.
Adam is still finishing up at the pump, so I get out and circle the car toward him.
“Do you want me to drive for a while?”
Adam rests the nozzle back in its holster and closes the gas flap on his car. Then, he lifts his head and squints toward me, shading his eyes with his hand to avoid the glare from the sun behind my head.
