Once Upon a Road Trip (40 page)

Angie bent forward in laughter. “You might have a point there.” She thought she detected relief in Vince’s smile and guessed that he’d been concerned over offending her. It amazed her how different he seemed from the first two days of her visit. Though she wasn’t sure how much of his aloofness was actual and how much was simply a misperception on her part, she was grateful for this new and comfortable familiarity between them.

Okay, so I’m actually glad I came to Alabama
, she admitted to herself.
Didn’t see that coming.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After a leisurely afternoon at the art museum and dinner at a nearby deli, Vince received a call from Grady. On their drive back, they all met up at a scenic overlook and stood around watching the sun sink behind the foothills.

Angie found no shortage of entertainment in the back and forth between the two friends. Their topics ranged from the idea of visiting Minnesota in the fall, to the difference between the words “shank” and “shiv.” From Vince she learned that a shank referred to an improvised weapon, and shiv was used to describe an action performed using a shank. While Grady seemed skeptical on the side of the two words being synonymous, he eventually conceded to Vince’s advantage in the area of prison terminology.

Darkness set in, and Grady suggested they all meet for dinner the following evening. Before they left, he surprised Angie with a box a Krispy Kreme donuts and an album from one of the bands they’d discussed the night before. When she tried to refuse, he insisted he’d had an extra lying around. While she found this unlikely, she thanked him and headed back to Vince’s car.

“That was nice of him,” Angie said, opening the box of donuts and offering them out to Vince as he slid into the driver’s seat beside her.

“Yeah. Nice,” he commented in a remote tone, shaking his head at her offer.

Angie shrugged and helped herself to one of the pastries, wondering at her friend’s apparent distraction as they plunged into the relative darkness of the back roads. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Vince answered quickly, forming a faint smile before seeming to reconsider. “Well, my gum lost its flavor. But I think I’ll recover.”

Angie laughed. Instead of pushing him for a better explanation she opted to enjoy her sugary snack, contemplating their previous conversation. “So, what was it like growing up on the grounds of a prison?”

“A little unsettling, now that I look back on it.” Vince chuckled. “Our house was right between camp thirteen and the gas chamber. But it’s not like I knew any different at the time.” He paused. “Except that I was lucky, because most kids didn’t have inmates for friends.”

She stared at him in shock. “You were friends with the inmates?”

“Just the ones that were allowed to work with my dad at the firehouse. They were the ones you could trust. Even though a few of them were technically murderers—”

“That didn’t scare you at all?”

“Well, I didn’t really know that back then.” Vince smirked in reminiscence. “One of the guys, Big John, used to carry me around on his shoulders and play video games with me on the weekends. When I’d ask him what he was in for, he’d always tell me he got caught stealing pies off old ladies’ window sills.”

Angie polished off a third donut and gave him her full, intrigued attention. “Did you ever find out his real story?”

“Yeah. My dad told me after we moved here.” He frowned, hesitating. “Somebody raped his daughter. Big John found the guy before the cops got around to it, and he beat the crap out of him. The guy ended up dying.” Vince’s eyes cut to her, as though he were weighing her reaction. “My dad never thought it was fair he had to do so much time for defending his daughter.”

Angie’s heart clenched. She took a few moments to process before asking, “Did his daughter come to visit him?”

He smiled at that. “All the time.”

A comfortable silence settled as the drive wore on. Angie became entranced with watching the road as the headlights revealed the short hills and sharp curves ahead. Vince navigated them with deft skill, as though he’d long ago memorized every detail of every mile. She didn’t have a clear view of the speedometer, but she felt sure they were going well over the posted limit. Between the rollercoaster-like effect and her narrow field of vision, the ride began to disagree with her.

Vince spoke up out of nowhere. “Grady was flirting with you. You know that, right?”

Angie rallied from the edge of wooziness and looked at him, unsure if what she read on his face was annoyance or dismay. “Was he?” She frowned. Part of her felt stupid for not recognizing the fact, but the rest of her was too distracted by her churning stomach.
Oh, please don’t let me throw up in the car…
“So then, he actually meant it when he said he wanted to visit Minnesota sometime?”

“Yeah, probably.” Vince flit his gaze toward her when the road allowed. “I think we both meant it.” He seemed to struggle with his words before his expression shifted to one of concern. “…Are you feeling okay?”

“Not really,” Angie answered, fumbling to open the window on her side. Sucking in a deep breath of cool night air, she found a sliver of relief. She felt Vince’s hand on her shoulder.

“Was it dinner? Bad donuts?” He sounded alarmed.

Angie closed her eyes and fought the ripple of nausea that crept its way up her torso and into her throat. “Motion sickness,” she replied, bracing her arms and hanging her head out into the wind. Somewhere amid her misery she sensed the car slow and felt Vince’s hand on her back. She knew he was talking to her, but for several minutes she couldn’t afford to divide her concentration. The steady hand between her shoulder blades was nearly as comforting as the fresh air. After a time, the balance tipped in her favor and the donuts stayed down.

Vince didn’t remove his hand until he’d pulled into his driveway and parked. Before Angie could collect herself, he’d walked around to her door and helped her out. “I’m really sorry,” he repeated, as she dimly recalled him doing numerous times.

Thankful to be on solid ground, Angie leaned against the car to steady herself. “It’s okay—it’s not so bad anymore.” She formed a weak smile.

“I won’t take those roads again,” Vince said, guiding her by the arm once she’d pushed off from the car. He walked her into the middle of the half-acre front lawn and urged her to sit. Their presence did nothing to interrupt the constant, pitching drone of Cicadas in the nearby trees. The high vibrato of crickets and lower, distant bellow of frogs completed the nighttime cacophony.

Angie eased down and then flopped onto her back. The cushioning grass cooled her skin, while the stars overhead greeted her with unusual brilliance. “Wow,” she breathed, pleased to have such a worthy distraction from her waning discomfort. “Not much light pollution out here, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s one of the few perks.” Vince chuckled, stretching out beside her. “My dad bought me a telescope when I was a kid. I wish I could remember more about it than just how to find the planets.”

Contemplating, Angie stretched out a hand in front of her and pointed up at the first constellation she could easily identify. “That ‘W’ shape is Queen Cassiopeia.” She traced the lines from point to point with her fingertip. “It’s supposed to be her on her throne, but it leaves a lot to the imagination.”

“The vain queen.” Vince nodded when she glanced his way. “I remember something about that from Greek mythology.”

“That’s right.” Angie nodded. With a degree of satisfaction, she motioned toward a kite-shaped constellation. “There, that one’s yours. Draco.” She followed along its winding tail with a sweeping finger.

“The Dragon.” A smile came through in his voice. “So, where’s the north star?”

“See Ursa Major…the Big Dipper?” Angie pointed to the star grouping, skimming upward as she drew along the handle.

“Yeah?”

“That’s the easiest marker,” she said. “Look to the cup part at the top corner, and then off in a straight line—you’ll run into the handle of The Little Dipper. Its layout is reversed from the Big Dipper. See it?” She turned her head aside to follow his gaze as he tracked with her instructions.

Vince shifted closer until their shoulders touched, bringing his angle of sight in better alignment with hers. “Yeah, I see it,” he said, lips quirking upward in recognition.

“It’s right there,” Angie said as she outlined the invisible connections. “The last one at the end of the handle.”

Vince looked upward intently, nodding once before turning his face toward her. “So that’s the one I follow, if I want to find you again?”

Angie gave a dismissive smirk to conceal her sudden trepidation. “I believe buying a plane ticket would be the easiest way.”
He couldn’t like me that much. Not after I almost got sick all over his car.
“But don’t feel obligated. There isn’t that much to see in Minnesota.”

Vince made a thoughtful sound, but said nothing more.

Angie stared up at the glimmering starscape overhead until her thoughts settled and her eyes drifted closed. She didn’t know how long she’d been dozing on the lawn before she felt a light, pleasant sensation moving along her skin. She opened her eyes to find Vince propped up on one elbow, smoothing his fingertips along her arm.

He smiled, lingering concern in his expression. “Feeling better?”

“Much.” Angie fused her answer with a reassuring smile. She considered retracting her arm from his reach, but found herself curious over the soothing effect his touch was having on her. Instead, she pretended not to notice. “I might sleep out here tonight.” She closed her eyes again.

“I suppose you can.” Vince chuckled, his fingers brushed the inside of her elbow. “But I don’t think our luck is going to keep holding out against the mosquitoes.”

“I guess you’re right.” Angie sighed, though she was in no hurry to retreat to the house.

If he were gutsy enough, this wouldn’t be a bad time to kiss me
.

Where did that thought come from? She had little time to examine it before she sensed Vince shift his weight.

Warm breath grazed Angie’s cheek just before she felt the tentative touch of lips to her own. Despite her passing thought, she hadn’t expected this. Instead of her mind switching off in surprise, she was acutely aware of Vince. His kiss was gentle and timorous — almost novice. Though she knew sharing it could hurt him, in that moment, she feared she might cause him worse pain by rejecting the show of affection. Tentative, she returned the kiss.

Her acceptance ignited a mutual intensity she wasn’t prepared for. Vince pressed closer, with a doting responsiveness that enveloped her in an inexplicable warmth. What she had meant to end quickly became a searching, drawn-out exchange of emotion. Vince surprised her again by being the one to break their connection.

Angie opened her eyes to find him staring down at her with a tense look of worry.

“Are you alright?” he whispered.

“I…think so.” She forced herself to focus, unsure of what had startled him.

Without warning, Vince lowered his head and laid his ear against her chest. “Your heart—”

Only then did Angie realize her heart rate was so rapid, it felt as though the muscle was rebounding against her ribcage. Baffled by her own physical reaction, she sat up abruptly. “I’m fine. It just does that sometimes,” she told him, neglecting to mention that the last time she could remember her heart beating this fast involved a double espresso and a strenuous Aikido practice.

What does that mean?
Five minutes ago I wouldn’t have thought of him as anything but a friend.

“Did I...scare you?” Vince eased himself back, brow creased with concern.

“No.” Angie shook her head, mind buzzing with apprehension. She couldn’t be sure if he’d gotten caught up in the stargazing, or if he’d truly begun to care about her. If anything scared her, it was the idea that she now had the power to hurt him.

Vince studied her face for a long moment, though she couldn’t meet his gaze. “Has anyone ever kissed you like that before?” he asked, point blank.

“Yes,” Angie answered without thinking. “Scott. The guy I stayed with in New York.” She didn’t expect the spark of disappointment she saw in his eyes as she spoke.

Vince eased back a little further from her. “Do you…love him?”

Angie looked down at her hands, weighing the question. “In a way.” She glanced up in time to see Vince drop his chin and look away. “It depends on your definition. I love all of my friends.” As she began to elaborate, she realized how evasive she sounded. “I’m not in-love with him, if that’s what you mean.” 

Vince looked back at her again, his face more unreadable than it had been all day.

“I didn’t go on this trip looking for a boyfriend,” she added. “Look, I like you. There’s a lot to like—” she said, hoping it wasn’t too late to spare his feelings. “—but that can’t happen again. I don’t want to screw up our friendship. Besides, we live on opposite sides of the country.”

“Yeah, I know it wouldn’t make sense,” Vince admitted with a hint of frustration. He regarded her for a long moment before his mouth softened into a rueful smile. “Why couldn’t you have been the girl next door?”

It occurred to Angie that she’d been staring at him. She looked down, emitting a small laugh. “That would have been too easy.” Satisfied they had come to an understanding, she took a steadying breath and got to her feet. “You know, you still owe me that radio play.”

Vince picked himself up. “I guess I do.” 

When she turned and made her way back to the house, he followed without another word.

Chapter 24

Angie gripped the edge of the passenger seat, resisting the urge to comment on Vince’s driving technique. In any other city she’d been in, the term “rush hour” was an oxymoron. Yet, the last time she’d glanced at his speedometer, it was sitting near 90 mph.

To Vince’s credit, he was an adept driver and only seemed to be keeping up with the rest of the early morning traffic as they entered the outskirts of Birmingham. He was faithful in using his turn signal, and courteous in making room for anyone merging. That put him in the minority.