3. Chapter Three
When Grey had said he knew the “perfect place,” I’d assumed he meant a fast-food joint with a drive thru so we could get back on the road quickly. Instead, he drove to a burger place that, while delicious, was notorious for its slow service.
“I’ve been craving cheesy fries and a shake all week. Don’t tell my gym buddies.” He said as he climbed out of the car, pausing before closing his door. “Just kidding! I don’t have gym buddies. It’s difficult to find guys with the skills needed to maintain this type of physique.” He patted his stomach, which was average in shape and size, far from the six pack of the gym rats I knew.
I forced a smile, slipped on my shoes, and followed him into the restaurant, shivering at the blast of AC that greeted us along with the friendly worker at the counter. I placed an order for a drink, my stomach full of lunch and the nervous knots I’d been battling all day. I tried to let go of my mental travel timeline. There was still plenty of time to reach the cabin before dark, and this way I’d have even more caffeine to help me through.
We placed our order and settled into a booth near the door, drinks in hand. The red vinyl stuck to my legs as I slid across the bench. Hits from the early 2000s played on the speakers, and memorabilia from local high school sports teams dotted the walls.
“I know you’ve been friends with Tory forever, but that’s all I’ve got. What’s your story, Audrey?” Grey asked as he settled across from me, his expression open and interested.
I bit my lip, trying to ignore the unsettled feeling that always came with one-on-one attention from someone I didn’t know well. It was an instinct I’d developed as a child. If I didn’t let people close, I didn’t need to be disappointed when I had to move again or when the friendship didn’t last.
“I have a degree in business and have worked at the same company for a few years. I’m on the customer service team, though I keep getting promised a leadership position if I can hang on a little longer. You?” I rushed to tack on the last word, cringing at how awkward I must sound and wishing, not for the first time, I had someone to help me navigate social situations.
While Chloe and Mallory frequently reassured me that I didn’t come across as awkward, it didn’t stop me from second-guessing everything I said when getting to know someone new. My mom was skilled at making literally anyone feel at ease when talking to her and I had not inherited her ability. It was part of why I’d dated Lyle. He could take the attention, navigate the social situations, while I hung back in my quiet comfort zone.
“That all sounds very professional and frustrating. I’m not nearly that put together. I work for a construction company, though we’ll see how long I stay.” He flashed me a grin before launching into the story of how he got his job.
I nodded and hummed at the appropriate moments, sipping my Pepsi, the carbonation burning as it slid down my throat. My mind scrambled to come up with comments and questions, anything to add to the conversation in front of me. But everything I thought of felt forced.
How long have you been at your job? I was pretty sure he’d already answered that question and I’d missed it.
Why construction? Sounded too basic and slightly judgmental.
Is your beard as soft as it looks?That was just weird.
So I kept quiet, grateful he seemed content to carry the conversation with an occasional question for me. I responded and returned the questions, but that was the limit of my conversational prowess.
About the time I needed a refill, Grey’s meal arrived, bringing with it the smell of fried food and making me almost regret that I hadn’t purchased second lunch. But I knew if I ordered food now, we’d definitely be late getting to the cabin. I ducked out of the booth, taking an extra moment at the soda machine before returning to our table, counting my breaths to distract myself from the self-consciousness I always felt when talking to people I didn’t know well.
Despite his near constant talking, Grey managed to finish his meal, and we were back on the road in twenty minutes. Unfortunately, I had overestimated my bladder capacity, and the two Pepsis I’d drunk at the restaurant caught up to me just over an hour and a half later. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I tried to listen to Grey’s monologue about the restaurants we passed. I wasn’t sure why this had become his topic of choice, but I was too busy not knowing what to say to add to the conversation.
I’d never been an adept conversationalist. At least not like my mom. On more than one occasion she’d told me to just ask people questions, reminding me that everyone loved to talk about themselves. For that approach to work, I had to think of good questions to ask. One instance in college when I asked a cute boy who was sitting alone if he’d farted was all the evidence I needed that I wasn’t made to be social. Listening and staying quiet was so much easier.
That was one part of why my relationship with Lyle had worked. Like my mom, he enjoyed talking, and I was good at listening. Of course, it could also be part of why it hadn’t worked. Maybe Lyle had gotten tired of having a girlfriend whom he was always talking for and wanted someone who could speak for herself. Emily, with her extroverted personality and big smile, fit that bill better than I ever would.
I pushed the unwanted thought away, trying to ignore the now familiar twinge of inadequacy that haunted me every time I thought about my last relationship. In playing it safe and picking someone who could give me security, I’d been burned in the worst possible way. I really was better off now, but that didn’t fully erase the doubt and regret.
“Personally,” Grey said, his monologue quickly becoming the soundtrack of our trip, “I’m a big fan of fried chicken, but there are few places that do it right. It needs a good crunch without—”
Spotting the Brigham City exit, I broke in. “Do you mind if we stop? That last Pepsi was one too many.” My voice hitched with desperation, and I didn’t care. If I didn’t find a bathroom soon, I’d have a different reason to be self-conscious in front of Grey.
“Sure,” Grey said, the change in plans doing nothing to dampen his enthusiasm. “I should probably get some more gas. Meant to fill up before picking you up, but you know, things happen.”
I still didn’t know what “things” could have happened to make Grey an hour late, but if his lack of preparedness meant I got to pee, I’d take it.
I rocked in my seat, feeling like my bladder would explode as Grey navigated off the freeway. He pulled into a gas station and parked in front of a pump. I dashed from the car, nearly forgetting to slip my shoes back on as I rushed into the convenience store.
“I’m going to grab some snacks once I’m done filling up. You want anything?” Grey called after me.
“I’m good.” I yelled over my shoulder, grateful for the kind offer but also desperate to make it to the bathroom.
I hurried into the restroom, relieved to find an open stall even as a terrible smell greeted me, bits of toilet paper and paper towels scattered on the floor. The restroom wasn’t the cleanest I’d ever used, but I couldn’t afford to be picky at the moment. At least it meant I wouldn’t have to continue dancing in my seat on the drive.
I finished quickly in the bathroom, trying to breathe as little as possible. I stopped in the hall outside the bathroom for a moment, grateful to breathe the stale convenience store air. Now that my bladder was empty, I needed a moment to mentally prepare for the next several hours in the car with Grey’s rambling. He was like an overexcited, friendly puppy, eager to share his every observation and inviting my own comments. Unfortunately, I had little to add to the conversation, and despite my love of loud music, I also appreciated the quiet.
I walked towards the exit and found Grey waiting for me in the convenience store near the cash register, a white shopping bag in hand, his ever-present smile flashing through his beard.
“I know you said you didn’t want anything, but they had a buy-two sale going, and based on your shirt, I thought you could use this.” He held out a Pepsi, and some of my misgivings faded.
I glanced down at my blue “With enough Pepsi I can rule the world” shirt and returned his smile, touched at the thoughtful gesture. “Thank you.”
My mom was the only other person who had ever bought me Pepsi. It had become our thing when I was in high school. Whenever I had a hard day, I’d text her and come home to a bottle of Pepsi waiting for me in the fridge. I’d settle at the counter with the bottle in hand and Mom would sit on the stool next to me, pausing for a moment between work and dates and everything else that always took her attention. Instead, she’d focus on me and whatever I had to say. Every time I felt the familiar burn of carbonation, it took me back to those moments—moments when I’d known everything would be okay because my mom was there.
“Gotta keep my road trip buddy happy,” Grey said, pulling me from my thoughts with a wink as he led the way to the car. “If you’re going to be stuck with me for several hours, you’re going to need the caffeine.”
Laughter tinged his tone, and I felt some of my hesitations about this trip fade further.
As I climbed into the car, I stashed my drink in the cupholder, kicked off my flip flops, and leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. My early morning was catching up to me, and a nap would help the miles pass faster. A brief span of quiet with only Toto playing in the background hinted that my nap plan might work. Then Grey’s monologue picked back up. I tensed, a knot forming in my shoulders as I listened to his poetic description of a burger joint I knew was not that good, though he made it sound like a culinary masterpiece. I’d give him this—the guy was definitely a glass-half-full kind of person. I was sure under other circumstances I would have found him friendly and nice. Maybe even charming. My lack of sleep and remnants of anxiety about the trip meant I found his quirky conversation less than fascinating.
When he switched to discussing chicken nuggets, I reached my limit.
“You know you don’t have to talk constantly, right?” I mumbled the words under my breath, assuming the music would drown them out. Of course, that wasn’t the case. Leave it to me to say the wrong thing and offend my ride with hours still left in the drive.
Grey stopped talking for a moment and I could hear his fingers tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song. “You know, I’ve heard rumors that talking constantly isn’t necessary for survival, but I don’t want to risk it.”
Instead of offended, he almost sounded entertained, as if he found my surly response humorous.
“Keeping this up won’t guarantee your survival either,” I said, regretting the words as soon as they spilled out, but unable to take them back. Surely there was a kinder way to tell someone to shut up that didn’t involve threatening murder. It felt like another moment that could be held up as evidence for my lacking social skills. I curled my toes into the floor mat, the coarse texture grounding me as I pretended my cheeks weren’t on fire.
Grey guffawed, and I opened my eyes to see him shaking his head, laughter lines deepening around his eyes, surprise filling his features.
“You don’t sugar coat things, do you?” His voice lacked judgment, filled instead with curiosity.
“Normally, I’m pretty nice. But hours in the car listening to someone talk incessantly about food changes a woman. Do you do anything besides talk, eat, and talk about eating?” This was why I didn’t interact with new people. My filter broke, and I never knew what would come out of my mouth.
Just ask them questions about themselves, indeed. My mom’s advice had gone awry once more.
At work, I was able to bite back my thoughts in the name of professionalism and keeping a stable job. Out in the wild, meeting people and attempting a social life, all bets were off. It still amazed me that I’d managed to convince Mallory, Chloe, Emily, and Tory to be my friends. Though Emily’s friendship hadn’t lasted.
When I’d dated Lyle, he’d regularly shared his shock at the things I said. It left me feeling uncertain and ready to retreat back into my safe introvert shell. If Lyle were here, he’d point out how I was butchering the exchange. Yet, Grey’s reaction was completely different. He almost seemed relieved to have me talking, no matter the snark level.
I pushed the doubts away and refocused on Grey and the conversation in front of me.
“I also enjoy eating while talking and talking while eating. Some would argue these are the same, but I disagree. It all depends on which is your priority in the moment.” Grey didn’t miss a beat, one of his eyebrows quirking up in a challenge as if daring me to argue with him.
I paused, surprised at his quick comeback, and bit back a smile. “It may be time to look for alternative hobbies.”
“Maybe you can help me with that. What are your hobbies?”
The question caught me off-guard. It was a perfectly normal and natural direction for our conversation to take, yet I was left scrambling. Once upon a time, before Lyle had destroyed my heart, my list of hobbies had seemed endless. Hobbies had been something my mom and I shared. She’d jump from one source of entertainment to another, taking me along for the ride. I’d picked up each interest, hoping this one would be the one to hold her attention and lead to a career and routine. They never had, but many of the interests had stuck with me, acting as entertainment on the nights mom was out late working one waitress job or another. Between classic rock, baking, and hiking, I stayed busy. But those were activities that didn’t fit into a life that revolved around Lyle, so one by one, they’d faded from my world, and I hadn’t found the energy to bring them back.
Now, my life seemed to revolve around yoga, sweatpants, and binging shows. And the occasional phone call with my mom, in which she told me to “loosen up” and “live a little,” the sounds of my seven-year-old half-sisters filling the background.
“How are my hobbies going to help you expand yours?” I asked, dodging the question.
“You seem to have such well-informed opinions on my hobbies. I figured you must be well-adjusted and heavily involved in all kinds of uplifting endeavors based on your commentary.” Grey glanced my way, and I schooled my features, refusing to let him see that he’d gotten to me.
“You’re mocking me.”
“Correction,” he held up a finger to underscore his point, “I’m teasing you, and you started it. Also, you still haven’t answered my question.” Grey looked at me, challenging me to prove him wrong.
“I like baking.” It wasn’t a complete lie. I still baked, mostly chocolate chip cookies when I had a free moment on Sundays, but that counted. Right?
“Doesn’t count. It involves food.”
“Who made you the hobby judge?”
“My car, my rules.”
I shook my head, rising to the bait. It had been a long time since I’d bantered with someone other than my roommates, even if he managed to entertain and annoy me simultaneously.
“I walk my dog every day.” It wasn’t quite the same level of physical fitness and activity as hiking, but I did it regularly.
“You don’t have a yard, so walking your dog is a necessity, not an area of interest.” Grey’s tone was light, non-judgmental, and yet it still poked at me.
“I like music and yoga.” The words tasted sour and desperate on my tongue as I stared at my hands, twisting them in my lap. Why I needed to prove to this bearded man that I had a well-rounded life was beyond me. Yet, I refused to acknowledge that the bulk of my time away from work was spent pretending I was fine with how my life was playing out.
“I’ll allow that. Though, two hobbies are hardly an indicator of a well-rounded human. I, at least, have three: ‘talking, eating, and talking about eating.’” Grey quoted my logic back to me, and I looked up to see him raise a finger for each hobby, wiggling them in triumph to underscore his point.
“You just said anything food-related doesn’t count, so that leaves you with only one.” I reached over, folding down two of his fingers, leaving only the index finger waving back at me. This was perhaps the oddest argument I’d ever had, and yet, I didn’t want it to stop. Even if it left me feeling slightly off kilter.
“The good news is you have yet to ask me for my hobbies, so chances are good I’ve got a couple of secret weapons up my sleeve.” Grey brushed at one of his shirt sleeves, indicating hordes of hobbies lurking just beneath the green fabric.
His tone softened. “We might even have a full conversation for some of this drive as opposed to one based on my rambling and your monosyllabic responses.” Grey quirked an eyebrow and his lips pulled into a small smile as he waited for my reply. It seemed he could read my discomfort and was doing his best to both call me on it while coaxing me out of the aforementioned introvert shell.
His words stung as I realized their accuracy, digging up personal doubts that had haunted me most of my life. Grey’s entire conversation may have been flat and focused on a single topic, but my responses hardly provided the material for a stimulating conversation. I was used to fading into the background letting others—my mom, Lyle, Emily—shine in the spotlight. I didn’t know what I’d find if I let the beam shine on me too brightly for too long.
I took a deep breath. I could give Grey this much. I could try to join the conversation.
“Sorry.” The word came out soft and hesitant, but I pushed forward, ignoring the doubts that continued to niggle in my brain. “You may have noticed, I’m not really an extrovert. I’m much more comfortable at home with my dog and a yoga video than in social situations.”
I fidgeted with my seatbelt, pretending the confession didn’t stick a bit in my throat as I gazed out the window at the passing mountains. It looked like we were driving through the canyon instead of heading back to the freeway, which made no sense. I pushed the thought aside, certain I must be turned around. I had only been up this way a handful of times. Going up the canyon was hardly the fastest way to get to Island Park. Though maybe Grey knew a shortcut I was unaware of.
Grey reached over and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze before returning his hand to the steering wheel. I startled at the warmth and comfort that came from the simple gesture. Grey’s kindness and patience when I was clearly struggling to find my footing unnerved me. I typically surrounded myself with loud, bold personalities. People like my mom, who allowed me to fade into the background.
“I get that. But you know, ‘Not all who wander are lost.’” He gestured at his shirt, with its faded words and outline of mountains.
“That makes no sense.” I bit back a laugh, completely thrown off by the random change of topic. Grey was good at keeping me on my toes, and I couldn’t quite decide how I felt about it. The smile hovering at the edge of my lips told me I might like it more than I realized.
“Maybe not, but it kept you talking and meant I got to bring in a fun fact you probably don’t know.” Grey shrugged, clearly unbothered at the random change of topic. It was the type of comment that would have left me stumbling over my words and second-guessing everything I said well after the conversation was over.
“What’s that?”
“This lovely quote, which some may argue is overused, is from The Lord of the Rings. Though technically, the exact quote is ‘Not all those who wander are lost.’ But it’s close enough.”
“Seriously?” The information surprised me. I assumed the quote had come from some t-shirt company trying to make a quick buck from outdoors enthusiasts.
“Are you questioning my J. R. R. Tolkien knowledge? It comes from The Fellowship of the Ring.” His lips pursed, daring me to question him.
“As someone who’s never read or watched The Lord of the Rings, I’ll take your word for it.” I held up my hands in a placating gesture, my lips tipping into a smile.
Grey groaned and put his hand over his heart in mock outrage. “It’s a classic! I’m not sure I can continue this drive with someone so unfamiliar with such a staple of modern culture.”
I shrugged. “It’s a story about mythical creatures walking in the woods for days trying to throw a ring into a volcano. What’s classic about that?”
He shook his head, his hand clutching at his heart now in exaggerated distress. “If you’d read or seen The Lord of the Rings, you’d understand just how wrong you are, Audrey.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I leaned back in my seat, watching humor dance across the lines of Grey’s face.
We drifted into a comfortable silence for a moment before Grey glanced my way, giving me a wink and a cheeky grin.
“Wasn’t that conversation nice? And we didn’t reference fast food once. The question is, how do we keep this going? I’m more than happy to rank my favorite taco places.”
I slouched in my seat and gave an exaggerated groan before I straightened with an idea.
“I’ll keep talking on two conditions. First, you don’t make fun of me if I say something stupid, and second, you promise not to discuss food unless we’re discussing where to stop for dinner. Deal?” Under normal circumstances, I wasn’t opposed to a good foodie conversation. But after listening to Grey discuss food for the bulk of our drive, I needed a change of topic.
Grey tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, seeming to consider my terms before flashing a smile, white teeth contrasting with his dark beard and tanned skin. “Deal, but with one exception…which I’ll explain later.”
I didn’t like leaving our deal so open-ended but decided to play along. Searching for a question, I quickly dismissed the first options that came to mind. Asking him about why he was late felt accusatory, and asking his favorite color would hardly lead to a full conversation. Instead, I started with the obvious. If Grey wanted conversation, I’d give it to him. He just couldn’t blame me if it was a bit stilted and predictable. “What are your hobbies?”
“I’m so glad you asked.” Grey scrunched his face, tapping a finger on his chin as if pondering before responding. “I like hiking and fishing. I wouldn’t say that I’m a movie buff, but I do enjoy movies. I also like long walks on the beach and getting caught in the rain.”
I laughed at the botched Rupert Holmes song reference. “I think the lyric you’re looking for involves pina coladas and rain, not beaches.”
“True, but I don’t drink alcohol, and I think pineapple is nasty, so I figured I might as well combine two dating profile clichés into one for a fun new twist.”
“Your answer was well-thought-out.” I could appreciate his cleverness even if his wit kept me on my toes. A not altogether unpleasant experience, if I was being honest.
“That’s what happens in the age of internet dating: you get good at answering questions about yourself. I think I have profiles on nearly every dating app available.”
“I’ve never tried online dating. Does it work?” I’d heard enough horror stories to scare me away from the possibility. Yet I was also curious. Now that I was done with college, the internet seemed like the only viable option for meeting people, especially since I didn’t drink or go to clubs. And if I didn’t count road trips with near strangers to celebrate a friend’s birthday.
“I’m still single, so what do you think?” He looked over and winked at me, and I couldn’t keep a smile from my lips, his conversation distracting me from the passing scenery outside the car.
“I’ve heard many success stories,” I observed, giving him the same argument I’d heard from my mom every time she tried to get me to join an online dating service. After all, it had worked for her. Why wouldn’t it work for her introverted, comfort-zone-bound daughter?
“I’ve decided those are unicorns,” Grey said with complete seriousness.
“Excuse me?” I turned to face him fully, surprised.
“You know, the rare exceptions to the rules that everyone references but aren’t actually the norm,” he said with a shrug.
“If that’s the case, why do you keep online dating?” I watched him, genuinely curious.
“Because, who knows? Maybe I’ll get to be the exception one day.”
The sincerity in his tone made me pause, speaking to a longing I tried to keep hidden, especially in the wake of Lyle’s rejection. It was the longing of a little girl who would have given nearly anything to live in the same home for longer than a year and for her mom to work normal hours that didn’t require babysitters at all hours of the night.
“What if you’re not the exception? What if you’re the rule?” My questions came out soft, hinting at vulnerabilities I kept buried deep.
“Then I guess I’ll keep waiting for my unicorn while I get caught in the rain on long walks on the many beaches filling the landlocked state of Utah.”
While Grey’s response was the quietest I’d heard him, there was a level of hope and sincerity I couldn’t ignore. Maybe there was more to Grey than I realized. And maybe, if I remembered this moment of vulnerability, I might just survive this car ride after all.