He didn’t get it.
She even noted that he had aged well. Sure, she said it like the fact was a nail in her shoe, but still, the words were there. He’d heard them.
But then suddenly she was pivoting on her heel, furiously tapping out a text on her phone and charging toward the Prius with fresh determination.
Whatever was going on, this was a classic Skye move.
For all Skye’s gifts, communication was not one of them. Not when it came to something serious. Fun things, funny things, what to eat for dinner, or whether she liked your present—Skye could give you a thousand reasons for her honest opinion. But the raw things? The real things? The matters hidden deep within the heart? Well, you’d have better luck recovering gold from the 1715 Treasure Fleet in the middle of a hurricane than getting her to admit you hurt her feelings.
He knew that fact all too well. She’d once moved as far as she could across the country for that very reason.
The Prius rumbled beneath them as Skye pulled the gearshift into reverse and the car started moving backward. Theo hesitated. “And . . . is there a reason we are using the Prius instead of walking to get to the tractor?”
“I thought you didn’t like walking through the woods,” Skye retorted, gazing intently into the rearview mirror.
“True, yes,” Theo said, his knees knocking against the glove compartment. “But if I’m not mistaken, your gaze possesses a somewhat villainous flair, and your Prius doesn’t have four-wheel drive. Wouldn’t it be easier to walk?”
Skye squinted as she turned her head to the back window, moved one arm to hold on to the back of his headrest, and whipped the car around his Tesla.
“Skye.” He inhaled sharply as the side mirror of his own car came into view—more specifically, came into view an inch away from hers.
He threw his shock her way. “Did you pick up getaway-car driving skills while in Seattle?”
She knocked the gearshift into drive, and the gravel beneath them sputtered as her car swerved toward the road.
Theo clutched the seat with one hand and pointed with the other. “You can’t be serious. There’s a bridge.”
Skye glanced over. “You’re trying to hit an imaginary brake. My mother does that.”
“Eyes on the road!” With one hand pressed against the roof and the other against the passenger window, he pushed himself off his seat. His head knocked against the ceiling. The ledge of the rickety wooden bridge was all but beneath her right tire as the wheels spun. The jagged rocks in the creek below peered up at him in the glow of dawn. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Your mother is the most commonsensical person in your family,” he cried out. “Have you ever considered that she is right to question your driving skills?”
Theo felt the bump, then heard more spitting gravel, then felt his body collide into the passenger door as Skye swerved left onto the road. It took several seconds for him to lower back down into his seat and let go of the roof.
When he opened his eyes, Skye was grinning at him like a madwoman. “Good thing you were holding that roof up to protect us. Otherwise, we would’ve been goners for sure.”
“Road!” he called, clenching his teeth as they approached one of the many, many swift turns.
Skye cackled. “Theo, how many times do you think I have driven down this mountain?”
“Don’t try that on me,” he replied through gritted teeth. His grip on the passenger door was nothing short of ironclad.
He couldn’t be sure—he wasn’t willing to risk looking away from the road—but he thought he sensed her shifting. A moment later, he felt the car slow.
His grip loosened reluctantly, his hand stiff and aching. He clenched and unclenched it before folding his hands together.
For several minutes, Theo watched the trees whip by out his window. “So,” he said at last, “care to divulge where we are going?”
“Not at all.” She was pleasantly upbeat as she turned the wheel around another switchback. “We’re going to Luke’s.”
“Luke’s?” It took a moment, but then the name rang a bell. “Ah. Luke’s.”
Skye raised a finger, clearly enjoying herself too much. “That’s the one.”
So that’s what she was up to. The pieces were starting to come together.
At least now he knew the rules of this game. “I do recall meeting him that one time and receiving the rather unfortunate experience of a broken nose. Did you know that led to reconstructive surgery?”
“I did not,” Skye said, not even bothering to hide her upbeat tone as she turned the wheel.
“Which led me to miss the Mediterranean trip that was a required piece of my spring course,” Theo continued, “and as such, required that I find another class to fill its place.” He turned to her. “Only every class was full at that point. But one.”
He let the silence linger until she surrendered and turned her head his way.
“Which was?” she asked.
“Basket weaving.”
Skye barked a laugh. “I hope you got some great baskets out of it.”
“Oh yes,” Theo replied. “While my friends returned from Athens and spent the spring semester reading ancient Greek literature aloud while taste testing brizola, I sat in a circle with eighteen females under rather clangy wind chimes and labored over a basket that would end up looking like a deranged duck. For the record, it was the only class at university in which I got a C.”
Skye pressed her hand to her heart in the most unconvincing manner possible. “Oh, poor you. That must’ve been awful.”
Theo swept an invisible thread off the bulky plaid sleeve. “Yes, well—”
“Really. That, of all things that could’ve possibly happened that semester, must’ve been the worst.”
Theo exhaled. Took a moment to consider the timing of what he was about to say. He would’ve done things differently, waited until they had spent more time together, but because she was bringing it up . . .
“For what it’s worth, I deserved it. After everything that happened—”
“And here we are,” Skye interrupted, her cheeks pinking. She jerked the wheel into the parking lot.
So, Skye had simply wanted to poke the fire, blow and stir the ashes just enough to make the embers glow. It made sense. This would be their dance, he suspected: shuffling closer, then breaking from the heart of the matter again and again, more and more, until one moment, one unexpected moment, she was ready.
And for him? He had waited fourteen years. He could easily wait a little longer.
The car slid into the first available parking space beneath the gas station’s sign: Luke’s.
Skye popped her door open and Theo followed suit.
As for Luke, Theo had a theory. And it was time to test it. “I’m guessing Luke is still that same lovable, easygoing man I had the pleasure of meeting?”
On that fateful night fourteen years ago, Luke was 280 pounds of pure muscle who had a keen enjoyment of watching martial arts videos and practicing in his living room. He was part of Skye’s long-running friend group and apparently had been waiting for a heroic opportunity to put his homegrown skills to use. Hence, after Theo had made that fateful mistake of running to Skye’s friend’s house to try to talk to her, the broken nose.