Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
TRAVIS
Standing by the passenger side back tire, Faith kicks at an oil stain in the pavement with her light brown tooled boots as I pull up beside her with a brown paper sack.
“What’s in there?” she asks.
“Beer, water, and snacks,” I reply. “Considering it’s our first date, I’d like to take you out to a fancy restaurant.
You look amazing, but since I’m wearing my work clothes, I’m guessing you wouldn’t feel too comfortable with that.
And it’s not exactly the night you requested anyway.
But Mac, the owner of this place,” I say, thrusting a thumb over my shoulder towards the gas station, “swears by a little barbecue joint up the road a half mile. He said to look for a worn-out sign with a flying pig. I figure we’ll get food to go and head to the hot springs. ”
“Hot springs?” Her eyes round, and her eyebrows fly up into her hairline.
I shrug. “I had other plans in mind, but you said to keep it fun. Something I would have done as a teenager.”
“But I don’t have a bathing suit with me or anything.”
I can tell by how her face colors she’s about to bolt like a spooked horse, so I reassure her, “You can wear your bra and panties in.” Her eyes look like saucers now, and I add, “Your tank top, too, if you like. Whatever makes you comfortable, sugar.”
Her face relaxes, and I let the craziness of this unexpected night sink in.
Now that I’m trying to get into a teenage mindset, I can’t help but shake my head and laugh.
The idea of going to the hot springs with Faith Jenkins would have been unthinkable.
Akin to seeing pigs fly. Maybe tonight, we’ll get a little of both.
I hear the click of the fuel pump and hand her the brown paper bag before bending down to remove the pump handle and screw the gas cap back in place. After returning the pump handle to its spot, I head back to pick up a couple of bundles of wood I paid for, along with some newspapers for kindling.
Faith claps her hands together. “Are we going to have a campfire?”
“I wouldn’t do a night at the hot springs without one.
Of course, back in high school, it would’ve been more like a bonfire.
But as a firefighter, I’ve got to be more responsible.
You’ll still get the full effect, though.
” These are all standard parts of high school living in Rough & Ready, and stuff I haven’t thought about in ages.
Back on the road, Faith enthusiastically points out the sign. Sure enough, it’s a flying pig—one that could use a paint job and some repair work.
Inside, we meet Harvey and Grace, the old-timers who run the place.“What brings y’all to this neck of the woods?” Grace asks. Her gray hair sits atop her head in a poof like a silver cream puff.
Harvey’s hair contrasts with hers, a straight shock of white. She’s curious and won’t stop chatting, but moving him past a grunt feels like kayaking up a waterfall.
“Just headed out to the springs,” I answer.
Grace looks over her glasses at us. “Aren’t you both a little old for that?”
Harvey finally speaks up. “Leave the two of them alone, Grace. They’re old enough to know better.”
“The springs are okay if you’re a teenager.
But I reckon you two are after the cemetery.
It’s a prime spot for parking your car. Heck, I reckon forty percent of the babies born in this town got started at the cemetery.
Wouldn’t you agree, Harvey?” Without waiting for an answer, she dives into directions, even pulling out a map to illustrate her words.
“Thank you, ma’am, but we’re just after some stargazing. The springs will work fine for that,” I correct quickly. I side-eye Faith, and she’s three shades darker and giggling. I can’t help but laugh, too, as we exchange knowing glances.
This’ll definitely be one of our new inside jokes. The shit you see and hear in some of the small towns around here defies belief. Thank goodness Faith’s here with me to meet these two because otherwise I think she’d assume I was making this up.
Before leaving, I ask, “You think there’ll be many teenagers out there tonight?” That’s the one major kink in my plan.
Grace looks at Harvey long and hard, trying to pry the words out of him.
His face gets red with the effort, and he’s sweating harder now.
I’ve never encountered anyone who likes talking less, and that’s impressive with brothers like Zane and Wolfe.
“Not tonight. I think everyone’s down at the basketball game in Bishop. Playoffs, you know.”
“Seems a little late in the season,” I reply. I should do better at keeping up with local teams. But I’ve had a lot on my plate between wrapping up two car renovations and starting Hotshot training again.
“Making up for snowstorms in February. A lot of travel games got canceled,” Harvey explains.
I nod. After a polite pause, I excuse, “Alright, then. Thank you, Harvey and Grace. We’ll be seeing you.”
“Bye, you two. And good luck.”
I lead Faith out, and my hand goes to her lower back. It’s the first time she’s let me touch her like a boyfriend in public, and I love the feeling.
Halfway through the door, I turn on my heel, calling over my shoulder to the elderly couple, “I’d like to come back and fix and paint your sign sometime. Does that sound okay?”
Grace’s face drops, and Harvey says, in a guarded voice, “How much are you talking for that?”
“Nothing.”
The old man grumbles incredulously, “Now, why would you want to do that?”
I shrug. “It’s a cool old sign that could use a little TLC.”
Harvey looks skeptical but nods politely. I make a mental note to prove his skepticism wrong. I’m just not sure when.
Outside, Faith compliments. “It’s sweet of you offering to fix up that old sign. The place could do with a renovation or two.”
“That’s for sure. I just hope the barbecue’s as good as it smells because I’m starving right now,” I reply. Today’s training has caught up with me in a big way, leaving a bottomless pit where my stomach used to be.
“I’d like to help you out with the sign when you come back, Trav.”
“I knew you’d say that,” I reply. Lending a hand to each other, no matter how tough the job, has become an unspoken rule between us over the past year. But with how uncertain things have been between us over the past two weeks, I wasn’t sure the trend would continue.
“Did you?” she flirts, and I grab her around the waist with the arm not carrying our food, easily lifting her off the ground. I transport her caveman-style, accompanied by her giggles.
I quip, “Two people covered in paint’s better than one in my book.”
At the car, I put her back on her feet and steal a quick kiss before helping her back inside. Damn, I could get used to this.
The takeout bag brims with brisket, pulled pork, and all the sides. I get the impression people don’t get out this way much, especially in March, because the servings are extra generous.
We head to the hot springs through a hungry haze of delectable smells. My face tenses when we turn onto the dirt road that leads to our final destination. I take it slow, trying not to shoot gravel into my freshly detailed car’s finish.
“No, Trav, stop,” Faith gasps in horror. “You can’t do this right after getting Clem detailed.”
I’m a fucking idiot. Not only does Faith know this, but she just pointed it out to my face. Too late now, though. “No worries, sugar. RJ won’t mind a little extra business.”
“You’ve officially lost your mind,” she replies, shaking her head. Right now, I wish she knew a little less about cars.
The drive is painstaking, especially when I decide last minute to take her to the most secluded springs in the area. Yeah, there might be a basketball away game on, but I don’t want to take my chances.
College kids frequent this spot, too, and the last thing we need is a bunch of drunk idiots running around. I’m going for a quiet, stargazing kind of vibe. Not sure where the howling at the moon part will come in, but I’ll leave that up to her.