CHAPTER 36
84.49 MILES TO GO BEFORE I SLEEP
Grant and I sat silently in his Jeep in Manchester, waiting for William and Deanna to show up for our overnight ride. Caught up in thoughts, I watched a little girl, still in her Halloween Minnie Mouse pajamas, tug on her father’s arm as they and the girl’s three other siblings shuffled into Walmart.
When you know, you know.
After I’d seen Hannah several times, my anxiety and fear of the future were slowly improving. Until I thought about Erin and Beau.
And then I wanted all the answers all at once, an overnight fix to my problems.
I looked down at the notes I’d typed into my phone, tried to concentrate. Grant had divided up a series of interesting spots along the ride and had tasked each of us with being tour guide for a portion of the trip. A large, unspoiled area called May Prairie was one of the first locations we would encounter, and it was my responsibility.
I found myself texting Hannah, who’d told me to text her if I needed her. I never intended to, but my finger pressed send, cuing a pit to sprout in my stomach.
Me: Erin got married.
She texted back right away. I glanced at Grant, who was staring out the window, deep in thought. I looked back at my phone.
Hannah: How does that make you feel?
Me: Inadequate.
Hannah: Why?
I glanced at Grant again. Then started typing, erasing, typing again. Should I pay her for this text exchange?
Me: I don’t know.
Me: She’s making a mistake and I should’ve
Me: Shouldn’t I be sure about Grant by now?
I went there, to the question that had been eating at me ever since Erin had spilled her big news.
“They’re here.” He opened his car door. I jumped and dropped my phone onto the floorboard.
William, wearing a skintight Spider-Man one-piece, headed straight for the trunk, where Grant helped remove bicycles and equipment.
Deanna met me halfway between the cars. She was adorable in a black suit with a single spider on the left shoulder and her hair in a ponytail.
“Are you supposed to be the Black Widow?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes and pulled at the fabric. “William’s idea, since we’re close to Halloween. I think I’m too curvy for all this spandex.”
“There’s no such thing as too curvy.”
“Breakfast.” She handed me a large paper sack.
I unfolded the bag and peeked in. Muffins.
“Sorry we’re late.” She pointed back to the bag in my hands. “Pumpkin muffins, packed full of yummy things that’ll keep us going.”
Grant materialized beside us. “We’re almost set. The gear is evenly distributed, and we have everything we need.”
We scarfed the muffins.
“You’re not going to eat the rest?” Deanna asked Grant, who was wrapping half of his up.
“Just pacing myself,” he said.
“You didn’t like them?”
He sighed. “Deanna, they were lovely. I don’t eat much at the start of a ride. Ask them.” He tipped his head toward William and me.
I nodded.
Deanna put her arm through her brother’s. “Are you sure you feel up to doing this ride?”
I’d asked him the same question more than once, but hearing Deanna ask it and seeing the look on Grant’s face made me determined to stop badgering him.
“The real question is ...,” he started, bending toward Deanna. “Are you going to be able to handle it? This ain’t your color ride.”
Her mouth dropped open in outrage. “I do Pilates!”
He looked unconvinced, but instead of replying, he turned and started jogging toward the automatic Walmart doors. He called over his shoulder, “I hope those muffins don’t slow you all down! One brief stop, and then I’m going to ride!” Finger in the air, he attempted a halfway successful midair heel kick.
I watched him until the doors slid open and closed again.
Before joining a cycling group, I’d thought people riding on the side of the road in their spandex looked ridiculous. But watching Grant now, I understood. He was pulling off the cycling suit, which made me want to pull it off him.
I pictured his face flushed, his mustache waving in a gentle breeze, like Fabio’s hair, as he dripped sweat after riding twenty miles. With his natural outdoor scent concentrated on his hot skin, he’d stand close, whisper something breathless in my ear, teasing me. The no-sex thing made everything erotic, and while I wanted it to end, I had to admit I was kind of enjoying the excruciating weeks-long bout of foreplay.
Pass the salt,a normally innocent table request, turned into prolonged hand touching as the saltshaker changed users. I love salt, I’d say, pushing out my chest like a salt vixen. It’s the saltiest, he’d reply, letting the words rumble in his chest as he eyed me suggestively. I’d dash a little on the back of my hand and slowly lick it off, and he’d watch me, swallowing hard and then flicking his tongue over his lips. And then I’d—
Deanna snapped her fingers in front of my face. “You in there?”
My cheeks went hot when I realized the three of us were still standing in the Walmart parking lot, nine inches away from a used piece of bubble gum.
“I’m worried about him.” Her hands were on her hips as she stared at the Walmart doors. “Something’s off.”
“Grant? He had a stomach bug. He’s recovering, but he’s fine.” Hadn’t she seen him run into Walmart? He was healthier than I was. He was—
“It’s just that—”
“Are we going to the bathroom or what, ladies?” William interrupted, rubbing his hands together. “I’m ready to ride.”
The three of us consolidated our trash and followed Grant as I shook off Deanna’s unsettling words. I soothed myself by remembering that she was his sister. She was worried about her brother, and that was sweet, normal even. I was reading too much into everything, I decided.
In the bathroom, I pulled out my phone again and saw Hannah’s text reply. I would likely lose service when we started riding. I was glad she’d replied so quickly, and then I felt horrible because I’d texted her on the weekend, when she was supposed to be taking a break from psychos like me.
Hannah: The surest way to set yourself up for personal failure is to compare yourself to someone else. We all progress at different rates. Instead, compare your past self to your present self. Are you improving? (We both know the answer is yes.) Enjoy your unique journey. Let Erin enjoy hers. You’ve been through a lot. I’d worry if you were ready to marry Grant tomorrow. You aren’t there yet, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you won’t get there when your time is right.
I inhaled her words, then sent a final text.
Me: I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend. Thank you.
Hannah: Anytime, Pen. See you next week.
Back in the parking lot, we were packed and ready to go.
As we put feet to pedals, I didn’t look back.