Evie
Somehow, Grady and I end up in the back of Junior’s pickup truck at the drive-in. Junior has an air mattress in the back, which is where he’d planned to let the girls lie down after they wore themselves out on the playground equipment. When Grady and I had arrived, Junior and Barbara-Claire had been parked right next to the little playground so they could let their two older girls, Sophie and Clara, play while the movie was getting started. That close to the playground, they could see them without having to worry about them.
The playground isn’t more than a teeter-totter, a set of swings, and a roundabout that should have been outlawed years ago. If the right person spins that thing, someone with some force to their push, it will fling kids all over the place. And that’s how I find myself holding on for dear life as Grady and Junior spin me and Barbara-Claire around on that thing so fast that my flip-flops fly off as I cling to the bars.
“Junior!” Barbara-Claire screams. “If you don’t stop this thing right now, by God, you will wish you had!”
“Shit,” Junior mutters. “Sorry, babe.” He reaches out and starts to slow the spin of the roundabout, or merry-go-round as the younger kids call it, and Barbara-Claire and I finally loosen our death grip on the inner bars. “You all right, Evie?” Junior calls. “You look kind of green.”
“I’ll let you know in a minute, after I go puke.” I sit up and brush my hair back from my face. Grady grabs my ankle as the roundabout comes to a stop. Then he hands me my shoes. “That’s not nearly as much fun when you’re old.”
Clara looks at Junior and says, “Can we get back on now, Daddy?” Junior had made all the little kids get off when Barbara-Claire and I got on. That should have been my warning to get the hell off it, and quick. But my desire to be spun like a seven-year-old won out. I might be almost forty, but I still like to be spun every now and then.
“You can get on as soon as the adults get off,” he tells Clara.
Clara crosses her arms over her chest and glares at us until we have recovered enough to move. Grady pulls me to the edge on my butt. “Come on, Clifford,” he taunts. “I’ll help you stand up.”
“Go to hell, Grady,” I spit back at him, as I put my flip-flops back on and attempt to stand up.
He grins and steadies me with a hand at my elbow.
“That shit hurts more when you’re old,” I say again.
“Speak for yourself,” Barbara-Claire says. “I’ve given birth to three kids and I can still walk after that.”
“And I thought we were friends,” I mumble.
Barbara-Claire winks at me.
We walk back over to the truck and I hop up on Junior’s tailgate. I’m in my flip-flops because I didn’t want to mess up my new pedicure with socks and shoes, but my feet are already freezing.
“I’m going to the snack bar,” Grady calls out. “You want anything, Evie?”
I look toward the little building and try to read the sign that shows what they have. “Do they still have those sausage dogs?”
“I can check,” Grady says. “Peppers and onions?”
“And mustard.” I look toward the sign again. “Oh, and a funnel cake, if they have one!”
He rolls his eyes.
“And a boat of chili cheese fries,” Barbara-Claire adds.
“I’d better go with you,” Junior says, and he and Grady walk around the corner to get in line. The drive-in is famous for their state fair-style food. They even have roasted ears of corn on a stick.
Barbara-Claire hops up next to me on the tailgate, still keeping an eye on her girls. Her youngest, Marcy, is in the back of the truck playing a game on Barbara-Claire’s phone. She’s too little for the swings, much less running around with the bigger kids. She always ends up getting hurt. So while Barbara-Claire doesn’t usually let her use electronics, she made an exception tonight.
“So, you and Grady, huh?” she says as she rocks her body to nudge her shoulder against mine.
“Me and Grady what?” I ask, trying to play dumb even though I know what she’s hinting at. Truth is I have no idea what Grady and I are and I can’t even begin to answer her.
“You and Grady have been spending a lot of time together.” She nudges me again. “He told Junior he stayed the night the other night.”
“Well, you guys left him and he couldn’t drive, so…”
She blows on her fingernails and pretends to shine them on her shirt. “Genius on my part, right?” she teases. “Junior and I were sitting there on the floor, and Junior just nodded toward the door. That was one of the best ideas that man ever had. I swear, he might act like a dumbass but he’s smarter than he looks.”
This time I rock against her. “Of course he is. He picked you, after all.”