Page 188 of Story of My Life
“Well, sir. You only have yourself to blame. If you weren’t so damn inspirational, I wouldn’t have to catalog your every move for posterity’s sake.” I fluttered my eyelashes in the general direction of the road.
“You don’t need to kiss my ass when I’m instructing you.”
“What about when you’re just yelling at me? Can I kiss your ass then?” I asked sweetly.
“Tell me where we are right now,” he demanded suddenly.
“How the hell should I know? I’m just going where you told me to.”
“You’re the one behind the wheel, smartass. This ain’t an Uber. You can’t just sit in the back seat and zone out whilesomeone else takes you for a ride. You need to know where you are and where you’re going.”
“If I wanted to have sex with a driver’s ed teacher, I would have picked an actual driver’s ed teacher, Cam.”
He ignored my zinger. “You look like you’re choking the life out of a horse. And why are you leaning so far forward? You can’t steer with your breasts.”
“I don’t know,assface! Maybe because I’m not having any fun, and I don’t like driving, and my passenger is critiquing my every move like it’s some kind of college final that I forgot to study for!” I barked.
He was silent for several beats, and I wondered if I’d been a little too honest forjust having sex.But I was New Hazel. New Hazel said what was on her mind…at least some of the time.
“Take the next exit.Slowly,” he said finally.
“Why is everyone still here?”I wondered half an hour later when I pulled up to the curb—without scraping the tires, thank you very much—in front of my house. Levi’s and Gage’s respective trucks were on the street, and so was Zoey’s rental.
“You wanted to grill. We’re grilling,” Cam said, releasing his death grip on the door handle and flexing his fingers.
“And that involves more than two people?” I asked.
He pointed up at the blue cloudless afternoon sky. “On a day like this, it does.”
We got out of his truck and were greeted with the satisfying scents of meat and fire. Cam slung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side as we strolled up my driveway, following the sounds of laughter.
“Hey, Hazel. Hey, Cam,” the neighbor from three houses down called as she jogged down the sidewalk after her toddler on his tricycle.
We waved, and something about the moment clicked in my head. It felt so…normal. So happy. It felt like a scene I’d write just before everything went to hot garbage and someone ruined everything.
“Haze! We made a picnic,” Zoey called out when we rounded the house into the backyard. She was proudly holding up a tub of what looked like some kind of off-white deli salad.
“Where did that come from?” I demanded, pointing at the gleaming beast in the yard that was definitely not Dorothea’s rusty three-legged charcoal grill. Gage, Levi, and Frank were studying the stainless-steel monstrosity like it was the holy grail. Bentley the beagle was following anyone who looked like they might have food.
Cam gave me a squeeze. “Don’t get pissed off. But that grill you found was a literal piece of shit. The entire cavity was one giant mouse turd.”
“So you stole someone’s grill? Please tell me you didn’t steal it from your parents. Your mom is probably still upset over the vases.”
“No one stole anything. This is my grill, which, like your goddamn raccoon, temporarily resides here.”
“The box is still in the driveway, and I don’t remember us driving to a hardware store to buy one,” I pointed out.
“How’d it go?” Gage called out.
“Great,” I said.
“Mediocre.” Cam softened his response by giving me a gentle squeeze.
“Sweet corn’s ready,” Pep called from the back door.
A horn honked, and I looked up to see Laura’s SUV pulling up my driveway. All three kids and Melvin were hanging out the windows. “We’re hungry! Food ready?”
“Come and get it,” Frank called with a celebratory wave of grill tongs.
