40. Jack
WHEN JACK STARTED HIS TRUCK, HE CAUGHT A WHIFF OF Teddy’s almond hand cream. How long would that smell last? Dinner had been a disaster. Maybe he did need Jimbo to intervene. But he wasn’t about to call him now. He’d have to think of something. Or, maybe just give up.
He reminded himself to watch for deer. They always grazed this time of night. A head-on collision with a two-hundred-pound buck would be the perfect end to a rotten day.
Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans. He had to admit, he had mapped out their future. He wanted to wake up next to Teddy every day. They could build a house on the beach. No way would she live in Fort Worth in the house where he lived with Angela. They could make a chain of restaurants, or maybe something like that truck stop, Buccee’s, but on a more artisan scale.
Maybe if he just explained all this to Teddy, she’d understand, even believe him. But she wouldn’t listen. Just when he had convinced Teddy he could move from Angela, this mess had to happen.
His phone pinged. He glanced at the caller ID. Pops! He steered onto the shoulder and opened the text.
Pops: Teddy’s headed your way. You might want to slow down.
His breath emptied from his chest. Teddy wanted to find him. Whatever miraculous thing Pops told her had worked. Otherwise, Teddy wouldn’t be searching for him.
He flipped on his flashers and checked the highway. No sign of 000 lane and floored it. Teddy Wainsworth, here I come. He whistled ‘Cielito Lindo’ as he flew past the mile markers.