Page 32 of But For You

He grunted, and the glass doors of what I could see was a Mercedes-Benz dealership slid open.

“Oh for crissakes, Aaron, I just need a rental.”

But there was a team of people in front of us—a man and three women—and when one of the three asked for my driver’s license, I got out my wallet and passed it to her. Really, fighting with Aaron—especially in front of other people—was useless unless I was prepared to bolt, which I didn’t do anymore.

“I’m hungry,” I told him twenty minutes later.

“We’ll go get beef sandwiches at Al’s after this, all right?” He offered it like I was twelve instead of thirty-two.

I looked over at Miguel. “You want that?”

“My favorite,” he assured me. “Now pay attention. The lady asked you what color.”

“Black,” I told her.

“How about steel-gray metallic instead?” She tipped her head and smiled at me.

I groaned.

Driving the new Mercedes-Benz R-Class minivan out of the dealership, I was hazy on whether it was a rental or not. It seemed to be all paid for and registered in my name, but I had been told very firmly that I could return it at any time during the month. I had a printout of an insurance card in the glove compartment, and Miguel had left to go to wherever my Nissan was to get everything from it and meet us at Al’s. I wasn’t worried—Sam had a set of car seats in his enormous SUV that we would take with us instead of the set from my van—if needed.

The food had just reached the table when Miguel joined us at Al’s. He had me give my keys to two guys who came to the table, and my guess was that, while we ate, they moved everything.

“It must be nice to have staff,” I told Aaron.

“Of course it is.” He smirked at me.

I let it go, asked him how much the van was, and he answered me with his mouth full of spicy beef sandwich.

“I love the peppers,” he told me when he swallowed.

“Aaron.”

He knocked his knee against mine under the table. “You know, Jory, the back of your van was completely crushed in.”

I looked at Miguel. “It was?”

He made a noise as he was chewing. “Yeah. Somebody plowed into you from behind, huh?”

I didn’t remember that.

“You know a Mercedes is built like a tank, yeah? The kids would be safe.”

When I looked back at Aaron, he waggled his eyebrows at me.

“I can buy my own new minivan if I need to with the insurance money. As soon as I get it, this one goes back.”

“Whatever you want,” Aaron agreed.

Once I was back in the new van, I realized that everything was there—the carved, ivory-colored agate butterfly that hung from the mirror, the car seats, Kola’s gi, two sets of roller skates, a cat carrier, a first aid kit, and all my coupons from the glove compartment.

“And you didn’t have AAA, but you do now. I had the number and your membership card downloaded into your phone,” Aaron said from where he was leaning into my open window.

“I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“I’m well aware.”

I squinted at him. “Did you just buy me a van, or is this a rental?”