Chapter Fourteen
Despite grabbing a second to-go cup of coffee, Amelia’s been in a grouchy mood all morning.
It’s like she used up all her pleasantries yesterday and now can’t be bothered.
She’s slumped in the passenger seat, too irritated to even want to scroll through her phone, arm outstretched to advance through every song in my playlist after only thirty seconds.
“A second verse wouldn’t kill you,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, knowing this could be interpreted as a joke or a fight-starter, and honestly, I’m fine with either.
She skips ahead faster, as soon as the song titles display on the screen. “I don’t want to listen to anything.”
“We could sit in silence.”
“That’s somehow worse.” But she gives up and lets the Olivia Rodrigo song we’ve landed on play out, letting out a groan as she turns to stare out the window. “I just want to be home already.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned.” I sigh and change lanes, glancing at the ETA on the GPS, which shows another eight hours and fifty-two minutes.
The time change going back into Central will give us an hour back, but that will basically even out with having to get food and gas and brief sightseeing.
“We’ll get there when we get there” slips out of my mouth before I can process that’s what Mom would always say whenever we complained on a road trip.
Amelia holds her phone up close to her face, reading through a zoomed-in message screen. “I know, but I want to get back tonight to see my friends.”
“That has to be tonight?”
“Brielle’s family is leaving for vacation tomorrow, and she doesn’t get back until after I’m already in Europe, so, yeah, it kind of has to be tonight. I told them that I would be able to catch them after dinner.”
The check engine light flickers on the dash, and all I can do is sigh. “If we make it home.”
“What?” Amelia says.
Has it been on all morning and I’m only noticing it now? I really don’t want to deal with this. The car is running fine. Sometimes in the winter when it’s cold, random lights on the dash turn on and off and there’s never any problem.
“What do we do about this?” I ask.
“About what?” At least I have Amelia’s full attention now. She’s dropped her phone into her lap.
I’d sort of forgotten that I hadn’t voiced the situation out loud. “The freaking check engine light is on.”
She groans. “Really? Do you know what’s wrong?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s obvious.”
“What?”
I roll my eyes, annoyed she’s not picking up on my sarcasm. “Lee, the light went from off to on, and that’s literally all I know.”
My sister ignores my snark and jumps into action mode. “What color is it?”
I glance in the rearview mirror first, at a car speeding up behind us, before checking the dash again. “Orange—does that make a difference?”
“Should I call Dad?”
“What’s he going to do about it?” I ask, glancing down to the dash once more, hoping it’s gone away already.
We’re on a small highway, with only one lane going in each direction, a thick division of trees between, and a truly tragic amount of roadkill. The white SUV is directly ahead, and I’ve probably wondered about Declan glancing back at me more often than he actually has.
Amelia shakes her head. “I think we should ask Dad if—”
“Oh!” I shout, hit with genuine relief. The light has turned off. “It’s gone.”
“Gone?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Are you sure?”
“Lee…the light went from on to off.” I repeat the words but inverse the order, like a hacky stand-up bit. “I don’t know what to tell you. The light is no more.”
She takes a deep breath. “Should I call Mom and let her know, though?”
“I think we’re all good. We can call them if this happens again.” I relax into the driver’s seat and turn up the volume on Sabrina Carpenter.
.....
We stop at a gas station that’s close to where we need to veer off our established path in order to get to the world’s largest bottle of mustard.
While I fill the tank, Amelia needs to run inside to pee, and Grady offers to tag along to help her find the bathroom.
He emerges a few minutes later, looking delighted with a new pair of cheap sunglasses, while Amelia returns harrowed by a disgusting toilet.
I glance to the next pump, where Declan’s standing next to the SUV, and consider suggesting that we do some car-swapping again today, but Amelia and Grady have already gotten into our respective vehicles, so I don’t want to rock the boat before we get to the mustard.
“I’ll text you the location,” Declan calls over to me as he closes the gas tank and walks back to the driver’s side door. “It’s not like a street address or anything, just a pin on the map, so I have no idea what area we’re showing up to.”
“Me either!” Still, I’m giddy.
We’re on the highway for another couple of minutes before veering off at a random, isolated exit.
We follow the directions onto a narrow, bumpy road, not passing much of anything except a couple of boarded-up old houses.
Through the trees, I catch a glimpse of our destination only moments before we arrive and have to quickly swerve to the side of the road, where the pressed-down grass indicates this is the only available parking.
Declan and Grady park behind us, with just enough room for both of our vehicles to be off the road, but there isn’t any oncoming traffic anyway.
I get out of the car and walk around to the other side to join my sister as we take a few steps closer to the structure.
Amelia squints up past the tall trees lining the road to look at the faded golden paint of the giant bottle atop the raised black steel platform. She crosses her arms. “This is it?”
The world’s largest bottle of mustard is a former water tower, built and designed to resemble the product of the mustard company that used to be in this town, and in the years since, the novelty of this structure has led to it being repaired and anointed a historic attraction.
It’s quaint in a way most tourist traps aren’t these days. No gift shop hawking merch, for one. Just a random old structure that doesn’t even have a good vantage point for a photo.
“The experience points on this one are probably overvalued,” Declan jokes, holding out his phone to take a picture of the giant bottle, then he nods for me to pose.
I smile and point up to the base of the tower, knowing we aren’t really capturing the full bottle. “Who are we to judge what the aliens find important?”
“Seriously, what’s all this about aliens?” Amelia asks, slowly inching her way back to the car, ready to get the show back on the road.
“It’s the board game they designed,” Grady answers, falling into step with my sister. “To submit for the expo contest.”
Amelia gently scuffs the gravel side of the road with her sneaker. “But you were doing the one with the witches?”
“Yeah, I already submitted that,” I say. “But there’s a team category that we’re going to try to get this one in for.”
“Okay, well, got the picture you wanted?” she says.
“Actually, one second, I want to get one where we can actually read the label,” I say, breaking into a light jog down the road to improve my vantage point. Declan tags along.
“Hurry up, your sister wants to get home!” Grady calls after us.
“She’s already well aware,” Amelia says, getting back into the car, less than politely waving off Grady as he tries to continue talking and shutting the door behind her, so he goes back to the SUV.
After a few more paces, I slow and turn around, only to notice the trees are now more in the way, even if we can get a slightly better read on the bottle’s label.
I take a picture but shake my head. “I’m not sure this is any better,” I tell Declan.
He holds his own phone as high as possible without looking at the screen as he takes another shot, then pulls it back to view the image. “Hmm, the higher up, the better the photo. Here, let me try picking you up.”
“Really?” I ask, but step toward him, and he bends down to grab my hips and lift me up.
I reach my hand high and take the photo, doubting that this was any higher than the image he already took himself, but I don’t object to these circumstances.
Emboldened and not caring if anyone’s looking back at us through the car mirrors, I squeeze my arms around his shoulders and lean to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Any better?” He sets me back on the ground, flushed, still standing close to me.
“Maybe added half an inch,” I tease, readjusting my shirt. “Thanks, though.”
Declan smiles as we walk back toward the cars. “This should probably be the last stop. The older sibs seem cranky.”
“They must’ve stayed up past their bedtimes. I didn’t realize how long we’d be working on the game last night.”
“Good thing we’ll have time to finish it when we get back home too.”
With my elbow, I playfully nudge his arm. “Perhaps even spending time together not talking about or playing board games?”
“I think that can be arranged,” Declan says with a wink.