He Started It(45)

While listening to the washer fill with water, I take the button out of my pocket. I can still see the engraving on the front. The finish has worn off in a few spots, but most of it still shines. It looks the same size, feels the same weight. I keep telling myself it can’t be the same button but I know it is.

I take out my phone and send a text to Eddie and Portia.


Whatever happened to the button?



I hop up on the washer to sit and wait for their responses.

When Felix and I got back from Buffalo Burger, Portia had woken up from her stupor and went out in search of food. Eddie was either fighting with Krista or making up with her. Maybe neither, since he answers my text first.


Why?



Then Portia:


Yeah, why?



Neither answer reveals a thing, but I know at least one of them is lying by omission. Has to be.


No reason. Being on this trip just made me think about it.



Eddie doesn’t answer. Portia sends a text only to me.


You okay?



I say:


Sure. Probably still buzzed or something.


Weirdo.



True.

I don’t answer again. I just hold it in my hand while my laundry cycles through wash. When it hits rinse, I get another text.


You okay?



This one is from Felix, who’s probably worried because I’ve been gone so long. Maybe he needs a cigarette and can’t find them because I took them all.

To be honest, I’m getting a little tired of gaslighting him. He should’ve figured it out by now. I’m disappointed that he hasn’t.





5 DAYS LEFT


It looks warm outside but it isn’t. In Wyoming, the sun is a liar. Our first road trip was in August and I swear it was cold then. Now it’s September and it’s even worse. I brought a jacket for this and am not happy about putting it on. We don’t have these problems in Florida.

First thing in the morning, Eddie is at the car and rummaging through it again. This must be the tenth time.

“Find anything?” I say.

“No.”

“This feels like the Arctic,” Portia says. She walks up behind me, wrapped up in layers and a hoodie pulled tight around her head.

“Have you been to the Arctic?” I say.

“I have now.” She calls out to Eddie. “Find anything?”

“No.”

“I can’t believe we lost Grandpa,” she says.

“Nobody lost him. He was stolen,” Eddie shoots back.

She whispers in my ear. “Nobody stole Grandpa.”

“No?” I say.

“Why would anyone steal ashes?”

I shrug.

“Hey,” Eddie says to me. “Why did you ask about that button?”

Eddie is in the middle row, where Felix and I usually sit, and he appears to be looking under it. “I don’t know, I was just thinking about it,” I say.

We’re interrupted by Felix. He’s rolling his bag across the cement and the wheels are so loud they probably wake up whoever is still asleep. “Chilly out here,” he says.

I nod. The rest of us have already had that conversation.

Felix lifts his bag into the back. “Find anything?” he says.

“Not yet,” I say.

“Screw this,” Eddie says. “It’s not here.”

We could’ve told him that yesterday, after the first search, but he had to come to this conclusion on his own. Sometimes that’s the only way.

Once our bags are in the back, we’ve checked our rooms one last time, and we turn in our keys, all of us pile into the car and get in our usual seats. Portia buries herself in the back. Felix and I sit side by side; he’s already on his laptop and I’m avoiding mine. Eddie cranks the heat up high and starts to drive out of the parking lot.

That’s when I realize the passenger’s seat is empty. “Wait, you forgot Krista.”

“No, I didn’t.” Eddie keeps driving.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Portia lift her head.

“Where is she?” I say.

“She left,” Eddie says.

“Left?” I say.

“Left. She called an Uber and went to Casper. She’s flying home today.”

Silence.

It goes on so long that Eddie speaks again. “We had a huge fight. She was pissed off and didn’t want to be here anymore. End of story.”

I turn around to look at Portia. She shrugs and lies back down.

“You mind if I get in the front?” Felix says.

“Nope.”

Eddie stops the car and Felix looks at me. I wave him off, and he gets in the front. I have the middle row to myself.

I’m not upset she’s gone, and I know Portia isn’t either. If it had been Tracy, who I knew a lot better, things would be different. Eddie is the one who should be upset, considering Krista’s his wife. He should be the one chasing her down to the airport and begging her to stay. In theory, anyway.

In reality, he will do no such thing. Neither would I. Ashes or no ashes, we have to keep going if we’re going to finish this trip the way we’re supposed to.

We stop for food and gas before heading toward our next stop in northern Wyoming. When we have a second alone, I ask Eddie if he’s okay. He shrugs me off, insisting he’s fine.