More Than I Could (66)

Chase




“Slow down, Marshall, or you’ll get a ticket.”

I ease my foot off the accelerator and watch my speedometer fall. If only my anxiousness would fall along with it.

The night is dark, and the rain is unrelenting. My windshield wipers squeak as they struggle to keep up with the onslaught pouring out of the sky. Unfortunately, the weather does nothing for my mood; I’m already irritated.

I’ve never been irritated about going home before. What’s odder is that while I’m frustrated about going home, I want to get there. I wish I were already there. I wish this drive were over.

Megan Kramer is turning out to be a double-edged sword in my life.

Each day that passes, I find myself falling harder for her. I enjoy being with her a little more. When I watch her with Kennedy—cooking together or figuring out how to sew a button on a jacket together—I find myself playing the what-if game.

What if this was a thing? What if Megan stuck around? What if Megan and I gave this a try?

In a vacuum, this would work. I have zero doubts. But I don’t reside in a vacuum.

“It’s been two weeks, Chase. You’re outta your mind,” I groan, the words barely audible over the wipers.

The cab of the truck fills with the sound of my ringing phone. I see it’s Mom and accept the call.

“Hey, Mom. It’s pouring here, so I can’t hear very well.”

“Oh. Do you need to go?”

“Nah, I have a ways to go yet. Talk to me.” Distract me from my thoughts. “How are things with Kate?”

Mom laughs. “They’re good. Her new apartment is darling. Of course, she let me pick out her curtains and some rugs.”

“I bet she did.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you probably paid for them, didn’t you?”

“I can hear you, asshole,” Kate shouts. “How are you, brother?”

I stop at a light in Bricksville just as the rain tapers off. Thank God. “I’m good. How are ya, Kate?”

“Living and loving life. Being a badass like usual.”

“Well, I see you still have your humbleness. That’s good.”

She laughs.

“How is Kennedy?” Mom asks. “Does she miss us yet?”

“Of course, she misses you.”

“Good. I don’t want to become obsolete.”

“Don’t think that’s happening anytime soon,” I say, hitting the accelerator again. “How’s Dad?”

“He’s out golfing with Kate’s neighbor. They’ve golfed almost every day we’ve been here.”

“Hey,” Kate says. “I heard you have a … what did Luke call her? A dime?”

I roll my eyes.

“Her name is Megan,” Mom says.

“Right. Megan,” Kate says, giggling. “How is Megan?”

I grip the steering wheel and cross the city limits.

Fields extend from the road on either side. There’s no light to be seen—no streetlamps or houses lit up. Not a damn thing. Somehow, it’s fitting.

“Megan is good,” I say. “She and Ken are like two peas in a pod.”

“What about you?” Kate asks.

“What about me?”

“Are you two peas in a pod too?”

I shake my head. “What have you done, Mother?”

“I haven’t done a damn thing,” she says. “I simply showed Kate a picture of Megan and let her draw her conclusions.”

“Right. You didn’t guide her to any particular conclusions. Sure. I believe you.”

“Give me the phone, Mom,” Kate says. The line gets muffled before Kate’s voice becomes clear once again. “Hey, it’s me. I walked into my bedroom for a little privacy.”

I sag against my seat.

“Are you doing okay?” she asks. “I know how Mom can be. And she left you there with Megan and Gavin and Luke. Good grief, Chase. How are you surviving? Do you have to fend the boys away with a stick?”

My jaw sets. “No. I just told them I’d break their necks if they do anything stupid.”

“Ah. So you do have a thing for her.”

I think about lying and saying I don’t. I consider ending the conversation and telling Kate to go play games with Mom. But then I remember it’s Kate who I’m talking to, and if anyone will hear me and understand what I’m trying to say, it’s probably her.

“Talk to me, Chase. What’s going on?” she asks.

I exhale. “I don’t know, Kate. I’m fucked, I think.”

“If you weren’t, I’d be worried about you.”

“Why is that?”

“I saw her—that’s why. She’s freaking pretty. And from what Mom said—and I realize I have to take that with a grain of salt—she’s sweet and smart. What more could you want?”

Not much. Maybe not anything.

I roll my shoulder around to keep it loose. “For starters, I could want someone who lives near me.”

“I hear she’s unemployed. That’s helpful.”

“For two, I could choose someone who wants to live in the middle of nowhere. Megan is a city girl, Kate. She didn’t even own a pair of boots until last weekend.”