Page 91 of Hauling Ashe

“You what?” His voice cracks as it rises.

“Yay Mom,” Wyatt mutters in his drugged-up state.

“You’ll give me the money back,” Adam demands.

“I’m giving the money to Wyatt.” Louie was his car, and he wanted a truck. He can buy what he wants with the funds. While I told Brut I might need the cash for medical expenses, I don’t. As for the money from Tucker, Jane still has it. I’m not accepting payment for the pleasure I took in my time with Tucker.

“You can’t sell it without my consent.”

“Wyatt’s an adult and he owns the car. I can do it with his.”

“I approve,” Wyatt murmurs, a dopey grin on his face. I smile down at him, and he winks at me. “Hey Dad?”

“Yeah, son?”

“Can you get out? You’re killing my buzz.”

I stifle a laugh while Wyatt gives his father a goofy grin. However, something in his expression must tell his father he’s serious. He wants him to leave.

“I’ll visit when your mother isn’t here,” Adam huffs and pats Wyatt’s good leg.

“Or don’t,” Wyatt mutters as Adam leaves. I’m shocked by Wyatt’s behavior toward his father.

“Wow, you must really be high to kick out Dad,” I tease.

“He’s a buzzkill and he’s wrong.” Wyatt rolls his head on the pillow. “You look good, Mom. I like the dress and I’m sorry I ruined your trip.”

I smile at the compliment. “You didn’t ruin anything, honey. You know I’ll always be here for you.”

“You always are, which is why Owen and I wanted you to take the trip. You deserved it.”

“I did,” I admit. I deserved the time off, but now I’m back. Devoted mother once more.

“Did you have fun?” he asks, his lids lowering, his grin drooping.

“It was the best trip I’ve ever had,” I tell him.

“Yeah?” He gushes. “So is this one.”

He giggles and I get it. But I’d argue love is a much better high than the one he’s on.

+ + +

When I don’t hear from Tucker for three full days, I try not to panic. I hold off on calling Jane to see if Tucker returned to Chicago. He’d asked me to drive him, and I wasn’t there to do it. Brut sold Louie and sent me the money electronically. I was a little surprised how fast the sale happened, but he told me he had an eager buyer.

Who wouldn’t love Louie? I was heartsick at the loss of him for the memories the car held but I’d never be able to enter that car again because of those memories. Louie wouldn’t be the same without Tucker.

Late on Tuesday, I’m at Mae’s Flowers trying to catch up on some things. Although my vacation was supposed to be two full weeks on the road, I’m home early and it seems as if that’s a blessing. Summer really isn’t the time for me to take off.

“There’s a package for you,” Pam hollers at me as I cross the gift shop and head for the stairs leading to our office. We have a corner office, we joke, which includes two desks at ninety-degree angles, each looking out a window over the garden yard. When I enter the small space, a box sits on my desk with a cup of coffee next to it.

“That’s strange,” I say to no one. I didn’t have a to-go cup of coffee earlier. When I reach for the cup to move it aside, I notice that it’s hot and the heat-protecting slip around it reads, Sunshine, in marker print. My heart races at the name and I set the cup aside. Next, I open the box, which isn’t sealed or even labeled with a mailing address.

Inside the cardboard, I find a note in crisp handwriting. A road trip of moments.

Underneath the note is a miniature red-rocking chair, like an ornament. Missouri is written on a tag attached to it. Next is a magnet of a bridge. Kansas is imprinted under the rainbow arch. A bottle of wine is also inside the box from the winery in Oklahoma. A medallion on a short string wraps around the neck. It’s St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers. Texas is tagged on the medal.

A small jewelry box contains the turquoise earrings to match the silver cuff I bought, and I smile as I touch the bracelet on my wrist. Turns out the color matches the dress I wore to the wedding. The earrings would have been a nice accessory.