Chapter Six
LUCAS
“I can’t thank you enough for lending us your truck.” I don’t know what else to say as Jacob hands me a set of keys. Julia and I are packed and ready to get on the road, our bags waiting along the side of the detached garage behind the inn.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he says as he rolls up the garage door, revealing a very old, and slightly beat-up, red truck.
“But it runs, right?” Julia asks, going up on her tiptoes to inspect the truck.
“It does. It will definitely be able to get you to Vancouver,” Jacob says.
“And back?” I ask, peering inside through the windshield.
“Yes, and back.” Jacob laughs, patting the hood. “Old Betty here is as reliable as they come.”
“You’re giving them Betty?” Cassie asks as she walks up behind us with a cardboard drink carrier with four to-go cups. “Why not your actual truck?”
“I have to go to Kelowna to pick up the new linen, remember?”
“Right.” Cassie smacks the palm of her free hand to her forehead. “I forgot about that. Well, you’ll have an interesting drive, that’s for sure. It’s a good thing I brought you coffee and muffins, then.”
“Cassie, you’re the best,” Julia says, accepting the tray and paper bag from her newfound friend.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I made you each a Holly Jolly Latte and an O Canadian Maple Latte. The muffins pair with both of them,” Cassie says with a shy smile.
“You mean one of those isn’t for me?” Jacob asks with a slight pout.
“You can come to the café and get yours after they hit the road. Plus, you’d want yours iced with how warm it is today, anyway.”
“You know me so well,” he says, walking to his girlfriend, slipping his arm around her waist, and kissing the top of her head.
“We should get going, then. Wouldn’t want to keep you from your coffee.” I chuckle, grabbing our bags and throwing them into the back of the truck.
“Hey, see if you’re still laughing after you’ve tried it. It’s the best coffee in BC.” Jacob laughs.
I walk to the driver’s side as Julia stands at the passenger door. We both look at each other through the rolled-down windows.
“Uh…” she says.
“Oh, right!” Jacob exclaims.
“You didn’t tell them?” Cassie crosses her arms as she turns to him.
“Surprise!” Jacob throws his hands up in front of him. “It’s a right-hand drive!”
“I didn’t know they had these in Canada, especially this old,” Julia says, still processing it.
“It’s rare. My dad and I spent a lot of time fixing it up while I was in high school.”
“And… has it been driven since then?” I ask.
“Yes…” he answers in an exaggerated tone. “I mean, I’ve only taken it around town and for the odd parade, but it runs.”
“Lucas, are you sure about this?” Julia whispers to me across the cab.
“I don’t think we have a choice if you want to go to the concert tomorrow,” I whisper back.
“We can hear you,” Jacob says. “And he’s right. We don’t have a rental car company here in Candy Cane Creek.”
“We don’t even have food delivery,” Cassie adds.
“Other than Curt,” Jacob adds.
Cassie rolls her eyes. “Don’t remind me. And don’t you dare mention a car rental place to him. He’ll have that up and running next week, likely with bikes instead of cars.”
I have questions about this Curt guy, but we need to get going if we’re going to check into our rooms and make it to the concert in time.
“Come on, we’ve got this.” I round the front of the truck, finding Julia still standing by the door. “Unless you’d rather drive this beast.”
Her eyes widen. “No! I’ll… uh, leave that all to you.”
We all laugh as she shuffles to the other side, careful not to spill the coffee.
I climb into the seat, trying to act like I know what I’m doing as I assess where all the controls are.
Jacob pops up at my window. “It’s just like what you’re used to, just—backwards.”
“Sure.” I fire up the engine, accidentally turning on the windshield wipers with the back of my hand.
Jacob smirks. “You’ve driven manual, right?”
“Did you warn them about anything?” Cassie asks at Julia’s side.
“I forgot.” That earns him an eye roll from his girlfriend. “Hey, it’s a vehicle. He’ll do fine, won’t ya?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Jacob asks, sounding concerned for the first time.
“No, I can. I just haven’t driven stick in a while. It’s like riding a bike, right?” I don’t look at him as I fiddle with a knob, spraying windshield fluid. “Shouldn’t that be for the radio?”
“I never said we were good at fixing up trucks.” Jacob taps on the roof, leaning away. “Well, you’d better get going.”
“Cassie?” Julia asks. There’s a pleading to her tone, and I’ve been around enough Julia-speak to know that there’s actual concern there.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t well placed as I look over the dashboard in front of me.
“You’ll be fine… I think,” she says the last part under her breath, but I catch it.
Now’s my time to go before Julia flees from the truck, likely taking my coffee with her.
I reach for one of the cups and take a sip, immediately thrown off guard by the overwhelming peppermint taste.
“You don’t like it?” Cassie asks sadly.
“No, I just wasn’t expecting it to be so… candy cane-like.”
“Really? In a place called Candy Cane Creek?” Julia whispers to me with a smirk.
“The Holly Jolly Latte. The best caffeinated drink out there,” Jacob says proudly, shooting Cassie a wink.
“Yup, now that I’m prepared, I see that. Thanks again for the truck and the coffee. We’ll have it back to you in two days. The truck, not the coffee, that is.”
If the truck makes it that long.
Easing my foot off the clutch, I try to move my other foot in unison, slowly guiding the truck out of the garage. The last thing I need is to stall after promising I know how to drive this thing.
The truck makes a shuddering sound as it shakes, before stopping altogether.
I put a hand up out the window before repeating the process, making sure to move more slowly.
“Are you sure about this?” Julia asks, taking a sip from her coffee cup.
“Nope, but we’re going to roll with it.”
“What are the chances this thing has a wireless connection?” Julia asks, staring at the radio console.
“What do you think you’re going to connect your phone to in here, exactly? It’s not like smartphones were around when this thing was built.” I scoff, glaring at her from the corner of my eye.
“I guess you’re right. I can’t keep listening to this oldies station, though. I love Dean Martin and all, but I need something a little more current.”
I chuckle. “You’ve got a point there. You can try playing with the knobs on the dash, if you’re brave enough. Just don’t do anything that could misfire and have us stranded at the side of the road again.”
She snaps her hand back from a dial. “You’re right. Hmm…” She starts looking around her seat, opens the console between us, frustrated to find only old papers and some questionable-looking granola bars.
“What are you looking for?”
“Anything, really.” She opens the glove compartment, pushes papers around, then closes it, only to have it pop back open harder. “I’m still not convinced this truck isn’t a safety hazard.”
Neither am I, but I don’t let her know that.
The radio switches to “Tutti Frutti” by Little Richard, and her searching increases.
“What’s wrong with this song?”
“Nothing, I’m just in the mood for something more recent.” She pulls down the visor and discovers a CD holder with a few discs. “Jackpot!”
“Well, see what decade they’re from, first.” I laugh.
“This one says, ‘Cassie and Jacob’s High School Remix.’ That should be roughly the era we’re looking for, I think.”
“Give it a try,” I say, putting both hands on the steering wheel. “Hopefully, inserting the CD doesn’t cause the engine to overheat.”
She stops her hand just before pushing the disc into the slot. “Do you think it could really do that?”
“Did you think a radio knob could set off the windshield fluid?”
“Good point.” Pulling her hand back, she places the CD on her lap while she stares at the radio.
“I guess you need to make a decision. Is your need to listen to newer music greater than your fear of the truck self-combusting?” I say, lowering my voice.
“Rock Around the Clock” by Bill Haley comes on, and Julia springs into action. I laugh as she shoves the CD into the waiting slot, closing her eyes as it slowly disappears.
“Is anything happening?” she asks, her eyes still closed.
“Julia, what did you do? The lights on the dashboard are blinking like Christmas lights! You’ve activated holiday mode!” I yell.
“What?” Her eyes flare open.
“I’m just kidding.” I laugh as she groans.
“You scared me!”
“You had it coming.”
At that moment, “Larger Than Life” by the Backstreet Boys blares from the speakers.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Julia says as she relaxes into her seat. “And it’s the right decade.”
We drive in silence for a little bit, Julia singing along to the songs with our windows down, enjoying the warm summer day.
“I haven’t heard this song in ages!” Julia exclaims as the tempo switches to a slower, piano-heavy song.
I clench my jaw, focusing on the road ahead of me.
Not this song.
“How many times did I make you watch Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves?” Julia asks, her eyes closed, hair rustling in the wind.
“Too many,” I grumble.
Singing along to “(Everything I Do) I Do It for You,” she’s carefree, the words meaning nothing more to her than a nostalgic walk down memory lane.
But for me, they hold so much more weight.
They bring me back to our high school graduation dinner.
We were all dressed up in the fanciest outfits most of us have yet to rival, with rented limousines and corsages and boutonnieres.
I made the mistake of waiting too long to ask Julia to be my date, and Ethan Cole rushed in.
I had to ride with them, solo, and watch them curl up for pictures, share looks, and be seen as the it couple.
Thankfully, that fizzed out shortly after graduation.
There was a moment during the night when I managed to sneak her away. We danced to this song. I remember singing it to her softly. She giggled, thinking I was just mindlessly singing along, but little did she know—I was singing to her, and I meant every word.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks, drawing me out of my long-gone memory.
Clearing my throat, I straighten in my seat, no longer finding the well-worn leather comfortable. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I sneak a glance over at her as she narrows her eyes at me. She doesn’t press the issue—thankfully—and continues to sing along with the song, breaking out into a loud and dramatic version of the bridge. Her arms open wide, nearly hitting me as she puts on a concert, just for me.
I can’t help but laugh, right up until the end when she gives a final bow, or as much of one as she can give, being restrained by an old seat belt.
Flopping back, she goes limp in her seat, her head rolling to me with a tired smile. “I couldn’t be a singer. I don’t know how they put on an energetic show night after night.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” I joke.
“Lucas John Mathers, are you saying I can’t sing?”
“Would it stop you if I did?” I chuckle.
“Pfft… no.”
We both hold a straight face for only a moment before laughing so hard that tears start to flow.
Ethan Cole may have taken her to grad, but I get this, and it’s worth so much more.