Chapter 10

 

 

“Is this part of the date?” she asked nervously.

“I wish I could say it is,” he said, still trying his phone. “But sadly, it’s just my car deciding to quit on the job.”

“At least there’s one benefit from this,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“I totally win this round.”

He grunted in disagreement. “You’re going to take a win because my car broke down?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” he said. “Probably. Okay, I would—but you haven’t seen how I handle it yet.”

She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. He laughed at her silent challenge and reached for the umbrella. As he prepared to exit he popped the trunk and pointed to the rain, which came down in sheets across the road and countryside.

“The forecast this morning said the rain would lighten up this afternoon. Unless you want to go trudging through the mud, I suggest we hunker down here and have lunch, and then find a nearby house.”

“How romantic.”

He grinned. “I’ll be back.”

He opened the door and rain assaulted her. Even with the umbrella he was pummeled as he went to the trunk. A moment later he returned with his legs drenched. Shivering, he shut the door and shook his wet hair. Then he handed the old backpack to her.

“Hungry?”

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s my emergency kit,” he said.

“You actually have one?”

“Last fall Shelby watched a documentary called ‘Stranded’ on the nature channel. She made Jackson and I make emergency kits. She’s going to love it when I tell her she was right.”

“Please tell me you have something tasty.”

He raised his hands helplessly. “I honestly don’t remember. It’s as much a surprise for me as it is for you.”

She laughed and unzipped the bag. She began pulling everything out, surprised to find it fairly well stocked. Nuts, beef jerky, and a few cans of peaches were packed with Cup-o-Noodle, beef flavor. A few bottles of water were stacked neatly in the bottom.

“I’ll have to thank Shelby,” she said, opening a bag of peanuts.

He reached over and opened a smaller pocket which held a can opener, and began opening a can of peaches. “I thought she was a little paranoid, but we grabbed whatever we could find in the cupboards and loaded old backpacks. Jackson slipped a bottle of scotch into his pack when Shelby wasn’t looking.”

“What are we supposed to do with the Cup-O-Noodle?” she asked, holding one up.

Reed shrugged. “I didn’t really think it through.”

“We could use the cigarette lighter to warm water,” she said. “But it won’t work in a water bottle.”

“How about the can?” he replied, raising the opened can of peaches for emphasis. “Peaches are the first course, noodles are the second.”

They set to work preparing a makeshift meal. Heating a can of water on a cigarette lighter proved to be a challenge, but working together they managed to heat water sufficiently to add to the noodles.

“This is the strangest date I’ve been on,” she said, taking a bite. There was only one fork, so she then passed it to him. “But it’s delicious.”

He slurped a noodle. “Am I gaining points for spontaneity?”

“Yes,” she said. “But not enough to make up for the car dying.”

He grinned and used the plastic fork to gesture to the car. “It’s got 240,000 miles on it. I’d say the car has lived a long life.”

“So, are you going to put it out of its misery?”

“Shh,” Reed admonished, passing the fork back to her. “I don’t want her to know I’m sending her to a farm to retire.”

“Trading her in?”

“I’ve saved up a few thousand,” he replied. “I want a nice, cheap, newer model.”

She burst into a laugh. “You’re trading your car in for a newer version? Will it have a nice body?”

“Hopefully,” he said. “But I’m more concerned about the engine. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

“That’s what all guys say,” she lamented. “But they all want the body.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Not all.”

She inclined her head, conceding the point, but her thoughts shifted to Ember. Kate hadn’t talked to her about Gavin, and Ember had pretended her anger had never happened. With Ember it was impossible to know if she really was upset or if she’d let it go.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

She hesitated, and then shared what had happened to Ember. When she finished his expression had darkened. She sipped her now lukewarm noodles, surprised to see anger tighten his features. She’d never seen him angry.

“Is she okay?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “With Ember, most emotions turn into anger at some point. But with this? I think she’s still hurting.”

“I hate how men think they can do that,” he said, stabbing at his food with the fork.

“At least you’re different,” she said. “And whether you’ve intended to or not, my roommates and I now have hope that there are still decent guys out there.”

“Too few,” he said bitterly.

“Maybe,” she said, wondering why the story had elicited such a strong reaction. “But I hope the others can change.”

He put his cup down and shook his head. “I have a friend doing a thesis similar to mine, except his is on male dating behavior. With apps like Tinder and websites devoted to cheating husbands, he wanted to see if there was a correlation between how men date and men that cheat.”

“Is there?”

“He hasn’t found one yet,” he said.

“Is there a correlation to the good ones?” she asked. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

“All I can say is that time tends to increase affection,” he said. “But that assumes there is already affection to enhance.”

“How many dates does it take to fall in love?”

“That depends on how much affection there was to start,” he said, his anger gradually fading from his voice.

“Let’s say a lot,” she said, and then smiled. “For argument’s sake.”

“Then not long,” he said, his lips twitching with amusement. “But that assumes there are no other factors that impact the relationship.”

“Like what?”

“Like an ex reappearing.”

She held his gaze. “And what if the ex is gone? Then how many dates?”

“For two people to fall in love?” He scrunched his face up and muttered numbers like he was solving a math problem. “One day.”

“That’s it?” she asked. “I think your math is off.”

“I didn’t say the first day,” Reed said. “It could be the tenth day, or a day in the second year. But all it takes is one day.”

“So how do you know which day counts?’

“How should I know?” he said. “My thesis doesn’t cover everything—and my premise could be entirely wrong.”

“I hope not,” she said fervently.

He smiled and motioned to the rain, which had diminished enough the region was not obscured. A short distance ahead a driveway led off the road, and through the trees Kate spotted a house nested in the trees at the edge of a farm.

“Looks like the rain is letting up,” he said. “Ready to get out of here?”

“No,” she said. “It’s cozy in here.”

“In my broken down car?”

“It’s comfortable,” she said, disliking the idea of walking in the rain.

“You can stay here if you’d like,” he said. “I’ll come back once I talk to them.”

“And if no one is home?”

“Then I’ll go to the next house to call Jackson,” he said. “He won’t mind coming to pick us up. I hope.”

He’d begun to gather the garbage up. She added hers, and smiled to herself as she put the single fork into the trash. She’d shared it without thinking, as if they were an old married couple and they shared everything.

“I’m going with you,” she decided.

“Are you sure?” he asked as lightning flashed nearby. “You just said it’s comfortable in the car.”

“That’s because you’re here,” she said.

He grinned. “Let’s find out if farmer Joe is friendly.”