Work Me Up

We both sing at the top of our lungs as the wind breezes around us, whips at my hair, turns his cheeks a deeper bronze than usual. I flash him another grin as I speed right past the exit we normally take to a little beach town up here, where we usually have dinner and then turn around to make it back into the city before we have to head to bed. More often than not, these days, we wind up sleeping at his place, out behind the garage, because it’s easier than driving in from my apartment in the morning.

But not tonight, we won’t be.

“Hey, you missed the turn,” Antonio calls over the music.

I reach over to turn the stereo down a notch, just far enough that he’ll be able to hear me over both the music and the howling rush of wind. “Not this time,” I call, my grin turning playful.

He recognizes that tone of voice, and he tilts his head, eying me with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. “What’s going on?” he calls.

“You’ll find out,” I reply with a broad smirk.

He folds his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes. “If we don’t get back by tonight, we’re going to have to push the 9am meeting with the Monroes past 10, and you know they don’t like it when we bump anything last minute.”

“Actually.” I can’t help it. My smirk turns into a broad grin. “We don’t have a meeting tomorrow with the Monroes. I made that up.”

His eyebrows shoot upward. “You—”

“I also made up the rest of our appointments for tomorrow, too.” I can’t help it. I laugh at the look on his face. Maybe just because this is the first time I’ve actually managed to pull off a surprise for him instead of the other way around.

Call it revenge. Antonio is constantly surprising me. Taking me to fancy dinners when all I expect is to have a meal at home in my sweatpants. Or surprising me at work with a bottle of nice wine, interrupting me halfway through a repair to drag me outside for another sunset picnic, or just a dinner he cooked in the backyard along the patio overlooking the vineyards next door.

He’s constantly, constantly spoiling me. So, I figured it was about time I returned the favor.

“Normally this is my move, you know,” he says, leaning closer so that I can hear him over the highway noises.

“Oh, trust me, I know.” I smirk and flash him a wink. “Don’t worry. I packed everything we’ll need for this trip —”

“Trip?” he interrupts, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. “But—”

“The garage?” My smile only grows more devious. “I talked to Brian and Shane. They’ve agreed to split your repairs this week between them. And to cover any emergencies that might come up.”

Now Antonio’s jaw actually drops. “This week?”

“It has been way too long since either of us took a vacation,” I call. “A real one. So that’s what we’re doing. A real road trip.” I can’t help it. A little sigh of happiness escapes me, then. “I’ve always wanted to take one. Ever since I was a kid.”

Antonio’s shocked expression softens into something sweeter. More understanding, although still surprised. “Did you ever think you’d be able to?”

“Hell no.” I shake my head and tap the wheel to emphasize my point. “I never imagined any of this.” I wave a hand, gesturing wildly, but Antonio must know what I mean. Me, behind the wheel of a car. Driving again. And in a car I bought with my own money, and fixed up myself, no less.

My parents don’t always understand it. My decision to be independent, to not rely on their money anymore. My dad supports it, though, and Mom is always saying she’s proud of me for doing it. I guess after they had to take care of me for so long, I wanted to prove to them — and more importantly, to myself — that I’m really okay now. I’m capable of handling my own finances, my own jobs, my own life.

And I owe all of that newfound freedom and confidence to Antonio. Because he believed in me. He saw a hard worker, a reliable, fast-learning, brave girl, where everyone else only saw someone broke and drowning in her own memories. Someone who had let her trauma consume her, instead of overcoming it to fight a new day.

I still miss my brother. Every day. There’s a hole in my heart where he ought to be, and I can’t help thinking of all the memories that would be sweeter with him here. I can’t help wishing I got the chance to learn how Daniel would have liked Antonio; if they’d have gotten along, and what they would have had in common. Or what they would have distrusted each other over when Antonio and I first started dating, since Daniel had always been a protective big brother when it came to me.