Page 20 of UNAwere

‘Can we…’ he starts, voice tight, ‘just sit in silence for two minutes?’

I nod, pressing my lips closed.

We make it to the truck stop.

My lips are still pressed together when he pulls the pickup into a parking space. I stay put as he gets out and scopes the area. When he raps his knuckles on my window, I get out and follow him inside.

We reach a table, and I pick up the menu and read it, finding that in two years, it’s still the same.

Briggs lets out a breath. ‘You can have your fried chicken.’

I nod.

‘I said two minutes, Miss Palmer. You can speak again.’

I nod again, glancing around the truck stop. There are only a few old men sitting at tables and one family with three young children. The mother is shushing the older two, a baby on her hip. The father is eating, his head down, not helping with the kids.

Briggs follows my gaze and grunts.

‘Useless piece of shit.’

‘Nineteen.’

He throws a twenty-dollar note across the table at me. ‘Keep the change.’

When I glance at him, he looks relieved I’ve actually said something.

I place my hand on it and slide it across the table back to him.

‘Not how it works.’

‘No?’

I shake my head. ‘You have to reach a hundred dollars first.’

‘A hundred?’ He raises his brows, and his forehead wrinkles with the movement. ‘That’s a lot of swears.’

‘I’m sure you’re capable.’

His mouth quirks slightly. Minutely. I stare at it.

‘Did I just make you smile?’ I ask incredulously.

He shakes his head and gets up. ‘Fried chicken?’

‘I did!’ I say, triumphant. ‘You smiled!’

‘I don’t smile.’ He glowers down his nose at me, but I’m grinning, glad to have gotten through to him, finally. ‘Fried chicken?’

‘Please!’

He goes to the counter to order. While he’s gone, my gaze travels back to the family. The mother looks stressed. And I want to go over there and help. Tell her I understand how it feels, even if she has two times more children to look after than I did. Technically, I had myself to look after, too. Two children. Two bodies, one of them mine.

I pull out my phone and text Maeve to let her know I’m thinking of her. She’s texted me every day, checking in. I haven’t told her much about Briggs, even though she questions me about him every time.

Maevey

How’s that grumpy driver? Is it awkward?