Page 30 of Hairpin Curves

“We have enough time. I promise.”

Megan nodded, relaxing a bit. Maybe some fences were mending.

Not that Scarlett was going to ask about those fences, though. If her confession about flunking out of college didn’t earn Megan’s sympathy, she didn’t have a plan B except to be nice and hope they had a pleasant or at least tolerable trip.

She’d have thought, though, that Megan would have more comments or questions about their next stop. It took almost an hour of driving, with Megan quietly humming along to the CDs she had made, before the topic came up again.

“Where are we staying?” Megan asked.

“It’s nothing special, just a motel near one of the mountains. I haven’t stayed there, but the reviews online were good.

“But you’ve been to the area?”

“Once, when I was a kid. It was a time-share freebie, where you have to listen to their pitch, but I just remember how pretty it was.” Scarlett smiled at the memory of snow falling outside the windows. “It was the first place I ever saw snow, myself.”

Megan was doing that weird thing where she stared at Scarlett again, like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how. At least when she was talking, Scarlett could respond. Eventually, she couldn’t take it. “What? You keep looking at me like a creeper. Look at the road.”

“I’m confused as to why you’d do this for me.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “I saw snow in your scrapbook and I wanted to take you some place that you might like, and this is an area I know at least a little about. So I figured out the logistics, did some googling, fit this into the schedule.”

“We’re not going to get there until late.” Megan frowned at the clock.

“Not until dusk, no. But it’ll still be pretty.”

Megan considered. “Are you sure we have enough time to get to Canada? We’re still in North Carolina.”

“We have plenty of time, you know. We’re not going to miss the wedding.” Scarlett had done the math. “Would you just trust me for once?”

Megan didn’t say what Scarlett feared she’d say, about the broken trust in her past. Instead, she just nodded. “All right. It sounds pretty.”

Scarlett smiled.

“Hand me a new CD, will you?” Megan waved vaguely at Scarlett. “Something kick-ass.”

Scarlett leafed through the pages of the CD case. “Leather Jacket Life?” She laughed. “Do you even own a leather jacket?”

“Just put the CD in.”

As soon as she did, Pat Benatar came through the speakers. Within only a few measures, Megan’s loud, clear voice rang out through the car, joining in. Scarlett stared.

Megan caught her eye and stopped singing. “What?”

Scarlett hadn’t heard Megan sing...what, since high school chorus? Maybe a solo or two, but nothing noteworthy. “When did you learn to sing like that?”

Megan’s freckled face flushed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re a good singer! You could be on the radio.”

“Shut up. Stop making fun of me.” Megan was already curling back into herself like an under-watered plant, scrunching down to end up nearly level with the steering wheel.

“Come on.” False modesty wasn’t Megan’s style, and Scarlett knew it. “You know you’re a good singer.”

Megan sighed. “Yeah. I know I’m a good singer. I just don’t do it around other people a lot.”

Interesting. “Forget I said anything. I didn’t compliment you. Whatever. You’re a mediocre singer.” Scarlett tried to stifle her grin as she lied, badly and with terrible acting.

Megan laughed. It was just one quick bark of laughter, but she relaxed as well. And when the chorus came on again, she started to sing. Scarlett joined in so she wouldn’t feel weird, even though staying on key was not her strong suit.