Page 5 of Ghost of Ex-mas Past
“Well, you didn’t. You had offered Naomi a ride and your mom asked if you could give me a ride instead.” At my glare, he shrugs. “You said yes.” There’s a bit of defensiveness in his voice.
My roommates crowd together on the couch again, their gazes ping-ponging between me and Charlie.
Of course, the moms have something to do with it. Hell, both of our families are as steeped in our relationship as we are. That’s what happens when you date the boy next door, the one whose parents are best friends with your parents.
“Why didn’t you fly into Albany?” My sisters are all flying into the Southwest hub, which means they can all fly standby since my youngest sister and her fiancé both work for the airline. Our parents—all four of them—packed into Charlie’s parents’ Suburban and drove.
Yes, they drove from Alabama, taking turns at the wheel to get there overnight. Charlie’s mom, Susan, says it’s “like a sleepover on wheels.”
Something flutters across Charlie’s face—guilt? Determination? Pride? After all these years apart, I can’t read Charlie as well as I used to.
“I live in New York now.”
“What?” I yelp.
“I feel like we should get popcorn,” Brin whispers.
“Look, I’ve got a cab running downstairs with my luggage in it.” Charlie points with his thumb over his shoulder. “Should I have it take me to the train station, or should I bring my stuff up?”
I rub my temples. Do I want to be spending close, personal time with Charlie, my first love and the man who shredded my heart when we were twenty? No, no I do not. But it’s been almost a decade and to refuse now seems pettyandlike I am not over him.
Which I totally am.
“Get your stuff,” I say.
4
Charlie
It’sa two-and-a-half-hour drive from the city to Here, and I’ll be spending it in the passenger side of Bea’s rental car. She’s trying so hard not to be mad, but I know her too well.
I genuinely thought she knew she was giving me a ride. I could have rented my own car, but my mom insisted we didn’t need a fourth car. Bea’s mom, Jody, added that she’d feel a lot better if she knew Bea had company on the dark trip up.
Of course, how could I say no after that? Driving at night sucks, especially in unknown places. Here is a pretty remote location, and if something happened to Bea, at least I’d be there to help.
Not that I know how to do anything handy, like change a tire.
I’m not used to New York City traffic yet. Having spent the last ten years living in the Bay Area—between Stanford, the tech incubator, and my office—I’ve spent most of my adult life out west. And Bea has spent most of her time living in this city.
“There’s aCROSSWALKright there!” she shouts at someone dodging traffic to cross Amsterdam Avenue. A few minutes later she honks aggressively at a Yellow Cab that forces her to slam on her brakes.
“Wow, driving in the city brings out a whole different side of you,” I joke.
Good job, Charlie. The first words you’ve said to her in ten minutes are teasing her. Are you trying to break the ice or layer it?
“We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Bea mutters.
“What?”
She sighs. “I had to get used to driving in the city. My first boss treated me more like a personal assistant, so I was often moving his car. It sucked until my roommate taught me how to drive like a New Yorker.”
I grab the oh-shit bar as she swerves.
“No wonder your mom wanted me to ride with you,” I say under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
