Page 30 of Changing Lanes

“I’m not sure you can. I need to convince Ava we’ll always be family. I need to convince your father not to disown you because you like me.” We watch the rain fall outside the living room window.

“Simple,” she says sweetly.

“How’s that?” I ask, laying my head on hers.

“We stay here.” We laugh, knowing there’s no way in hell it can happen that way.

Our week of solitude ends, and we pack for our flight to New York. “Are you sure about this?” Her eyes dart from me to our luggage.

“Yes. Greta calling helped me decide. She’s sweet.” I toss socks into my bag as we talk.

“I hope my father plays nice this time. I’m over the bullshit.” I can tell she’s nervous by the way she slings her clothes at the suitcase.

“We’ll do our best.” I wink at her. It’s all I can offer because I’m just as nervous as she is.

We waited all week to pack, I guess putting off the inevitable for long as possible. Grabbing our bags, I run them downstairs to our waiting cab. Torrie follows slowly behind. “You know it’s not going to help if we’re late,” I call out to her.

“If we miss the flight it will.” She drags her feet down the stairs.

“He’ll send his plane.” I watch her trudge toward me.

“I know.” She sighs in disappointment.

“It’s not a firing squad we’re facing, it’s your father. We can do this,” telling her as I hold the cab door open.

“No, not a firing squad at all. He’s more like a nuclear bomb.” I laugh at her dramatics. Although, I know she’s right to be concerned.

We’re at the airport on time, making our flight to Torrie’s disappointment. She snuggles my arm on the flight there, rarely releasing it. It’s as if she doesn’t want to let go, and my heart breaks for her. To live in fear of your father is ridiculous.

We arrive safely in New York. Hurrying to get our bags, we seem to have fallen behind on our arrival time. Torrie doesn’t want to be late getting home. She sits on my lap once we’re in her family car, it was waiting for us when we arrived.

Entering the gates of her family home, my chest constricts. Something isn’t right, this isn’t a good idea. Whatever is trying to warn me off, came too late. Coming to a stop at the front door, I ask the Lord for a favor because we’re gonna need it.