His head turns my way, and his mouth opens and closes a couple of times before he refocuses on the road.
“You done with the sarcasm?”
“Probably not. Yes, singing. Who is it?”
“Sam Hunt.”
“Never heard of him.”
I pull up Google but am again let down by the lack of 4 or any other kind of G.
“What kind of music did your band play?”
“Something like this.”
“Really?”
“No, I lied. We sang opera. Yes really.”
“Ooooh, now who needs to take their anti-sarcasm pill.”
He gives a little shrug as he watches the road, and I swear I even see a hint of a smile on his face.
“What were you called?”
“That Addison Sound.”
I sit back in my seat and mull this over. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it, either.
“We were just called Addison when we first set out, but the label said it needed more. Since Colorado isn’t exactly known for its country music scene, and ours was just a little different, almost unique, we came up with that.”
I’m desperate to Google them and, once again, check my phone for a signal, but there’s still nothing. Being cut off from the instant access to everything is enough to make me twitchy.
I take a deep breath in and look at the passing scenery instead.
“Did all of that bore you, Essex?”
“All of what?”
“Me explaining about the band.”
“Not at all. I was gonna try to Google you, but there’s no signal on my phone.”
“Is that your UK phone? You’ll be running up a charge using that here.”
“Yeah, I was gonna get a US SIM to use while I was here, but with the snow and lack of car, I’ve not had a chance to go out and get it sorted.”
I catch the corner of his mouth twitch as if he’s once again trying not to smile.
“What?” I question. He turns his head in my direction and gives me a full-on smile.
“You just sounded very English then, ‘get it sorted.’” He attempts and fails to sound something like me.
“What was that? You sounded like the chimney sweep from Mary Poppins.”
He gives a small laugh just as we begin to hit civilisation.
We pass a roadside café, although I should say diner because that’s what it says on the sign, then a motel, followed by a petrol station.