My One and Only(45)

Glacier was behind us, the Rockies towering in the rearview mirror as clouds scudded among their peaks. Thanks, Teddy, I thought with a pang as we left the park, and I turned back to say goodbye. Someday, maybe, I’d come back. Sure. My future child and I would vacation here, and I’d show him/her the spot where Mommy was almost mauled by the giant grizzly bear. Or not. That might be upsetting to a child. Note to self: buy Dr. Spock ASAP. With a sigh, I turned to face forward and fondled Coco’s silky little ears.

Nick’s ’Stang was a convertible, of course. A man can’t have a suitable midlife crisis without his trophy car being a convertible or his trophy wife being a blonde. The wind ruffled Nick’s hair as if directed by the gods of GQ Magazine. Add to this the fact that he wore blue-tinted sunglasses, a black T-shirt and jeans and looked irritatingly gorgeous. Coco, who got quite squealy around Dennis, had thus far ignored Nick. Good doggy.

Nick glanced at me, making me realize I was staring at him. “So what happened to Dennis?” he asked.

“He had an earlier flight. We, uh…we couldn’t get seats on the same plane.”

“Really.” His tone suggested he knew something different.

“Mmm-hmm.” Abruptly, I shifted my attention to the map. “So, okay, the interstate is about—”

“We’re not going to.” He didn’t look at me.

“But—”

“I know.”

“Nick, that means—”

“Yup.”

“Seriously, Nick? You do realize that not taking the interstate will add hours and hours to our lovely sojourn together, don’t you?”

“Yes, Harper. I’m aware. But this is my trip. You’re merely baggage, emotionally and cargowise.”

“Ha, ha.”

He deigned to look at me. “It’ll take about thirteen hours, all told.”

I glanced at my watch. “Okay, it’s one now, so if we take turns driving and drive all night, we’ll—”

“We’re stopping for the night.”

I gritted my teeth. “Great! Then we can enjoy each other’s company that much longer.” I smiled sweetly at him, which he ignored. Fine. So we’d stop at some hotel. I’d be in Bismarck…let’s see…I could be there tomorrow by ten, assuming we drove till nine tonight and were on the road by seven tomorrow morning. Not bad. Survivable.

But still. Stuck in the car with Nick. The hum of electricity was quite uncomfortable.

“So. A road trip, huh?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“Quite the midlife crisis you’re having, Nicky.”

“I’m thirty-six,” he said.

“Almost thirty-seven,” I couldn’t help saying.

“And it’s been a lifelong dream,” he said, finally looking at me. “As you well know.”

I sure did. Pulling Coco onto my lap, I turned my attention out the window. U.S. Route 2 was no more than a two-way road, though it was a corridor through the entire Northwest. We’d left the mountains surprisingly fast, and around us were only the Great Plains—fields of browning grass as far as the eye could see, and above us, the endless blue sky, streaked with thin white clouds. The air was cool, the sun relentless, and I was glad to have slathered on the fifty-factor sunscreen, as I burned easily. Towns with sweet names and tiny populations were listed on the map—Cut Bank, Beaver Creek, Wolf Point.

Nick had been quiet since offering me the ride. I was rather sure he regretted it now. For someone who’d blurted that he’d never stopped loving me, kissed me into the middle of next week and was now chauffeuring me to the next state, he seemed a bit…constipated. Perhaps therein lay the problem.

“So, Nick, do you want to talk about what happened this weekend?” I offered, turning to look at him. Strands of hair had escaped my ponytail, and the wind whipped them into my eyes.

Nick glanced at me. “No.” Then he reached into the backseat, groped around for a second and pulled out a faded Yankees cap. “Here,” he said.

I took the extended offering. “Won’t I turn into a pillar of salt if I wear this? Being from Red Sox Nation and all?”

He gave me a lightning smile, and my heart answered with a quick trill. “Give it a try and let’s see,” he said, turning his eyes back to the road.

I put on the hat. Not only did my hair stop whipping around, my face was shaded, too. “Thanks,” I said. He nodded. “Okay, well, if you’re not going to talk about things, I will,” I added.

Nick closed his eyes briefly.

“Here’s the thing, Nick. Um, that thing you said when we thought the bear would eat us…pretend I didn’t hear. Just a little blast of ubersentimentality, heat of the moment, death imminent and all that.”

He sighed. “No, Harper. It was the truth.”

Well, crotch. “You still…love me.”

“Yes.”

My ability to remain speechless lasted roughly three seconds. “And you also said you hated me, too.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think you meant that. I don’t hate you.”

“I can’t possibly state my relief.” He took a swig of water.

“And as far as the kiss…well. We were both feeling very nostalgic. Let’s just give each other a free pass on that, okay?”