Finding Solace

It’s times like these I wish my sister still lived here. She’d stop me from getting in my truck, or she’d go with me to keep me from stopping by Meredith’s house. Here I am, cranking the key, begging my old truck not to start, to give me a reason to control my curiosity. It starts, and I roll my eyes. At the entrance to the farm, I’m greeted by Billy’s familiar truck blocking my exit. We stare at each other for a second before he gets out and comes toward my door.

Gripping the steering wheel, I feel hot as though he can read my intentions. “Hi,” I say, trying to sound casual.

“I just picked up the order from the feed store. Where ya going?”

“I, uh, wanted to get to the market before they close,” I lie, hating myself for doing it, but my pride keeps it alive. “I’m craving ice cream.”

He checks his watch. “They closed fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh,” I start, turning my attention out the windshield. “Well, go on in. I’m just going for a drive then.”

“Is everything okay?”

My eyes return to his, feeling even guiltier. “Fine.” My fingers stiffen from holding the steering wheel so tight. I loosen my grip and stretch them. “Want to go with me?”

“Yeah. I can drive if you want or hop in your truck?”

It might be best to let him drive. At least I won’t end up at the Koster residence. “I’ll ride with you.”

I pull my truck to the side as he turns his around. When I get in his cab, I turn on the radio, needing the distraction while he rolls down both windows. “Where to?”

Shrugging, I say, “Into town?”

“You got it.”

He turns up an old country song that I haven’t heard in so long. Something about wasting the summer away with someone you love until fall comes around, breaking your hearts. I relate too well. “Do you mind if I find something less . . . familiar?”

“Go for it.” Signaling ahead, he says, “Cut through past Main?”

“Sounds good.” He’s so on to me. It would be a good time to fess up, but I find a good melody to sing along to and turn it up instead. My gaze lengthens when we near Meredith’s block. I force it away, and say, “Thanks for picking up the order.”

Billy’s eyes are fixed ahead and mine soon follow to see the little blue house up on the right. “No worries. I was picking up mine as well.”

I turn down the music like an idiot when I see the fancy motorcycle parked on the side of the house. “I heard he rode a motorcycle.”

Billy finally turns to me. “What are we doing, Delilah?”

Shaking my head, I reply, “I have no idea.”

“Better think fast because Jason just came around to the front of the house.”

“Oh, shit.” I duck, the top of my head hitting his leg. “Don’t stop.”

“Too late. He’s looking at me. What am I supposed to do?”

“Gun it home, Billy. Don’t let him see me.” I hit his leg. “Why are you slowing down?”

“He’s coming toward the truck. I can’t just leave him in a trail of dust.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Hey,” Jason says, his voice with some distance from the truck. My heart beats heavy in my chest, and I close my eyes, savoring the sound of hearing him again.

“Hey. Looks like you’re settling in,” Billy says.

“Yeah, doing what I can to help my mom out.” God, he was always so good to his mom . . . to me. “Want to come in and have a few beers, catch up?”

“I need to drop some stuff off at the farm before it gets too late, but I can come by later.”

“That works,” Jason replies. The truck starts the slowest roll forward ever just as he adds, “Bye, Delilah.”

My breath stops in my throat, my eyes squeezed closed as I pray for Billy to end this torture. “Bye,” I mutter, mortification washing through me.

“See ya, man,” Billy says. The road is bumpy when he pulls away, the rocks grinding under the wheels. Touching my shoulder, he starts laughing. “You can sit up. We’re in the clear.”

I sit up, fresh air whipping through the window and my hair. Turning to him, I pop him in the arm. “Remind me never to rob a bank with you. You’re not exactly stealth.”

“You’re too good to rob a bank, but also, I’m very stealthy. Jason’s just intuitive when it comes to you. There’s no sneaking around when it comes to him.”

“Can we not talk about him, his intuitiveness, or what just happened, please?”

He twists an imaginary key to his lips and then tosses it out the window. That lock can’t hold. I know Billy too well. I also see that goofy grin he’s wearing. “You do remember that we have to pass back by, right?”