6. Chapter Six
Less than an hour later, Grey and I found ourselves stuffed into the cab of Hank’s truck, an old pick-up that looked to be a relative of my own car, Jovi. I sat squeezed in the middle, doing my best to take up as little space as possible on the cracked upholstery. Grey sat pressed against the door like he was ready to bolt from the car at the first opportunity. Unfortunately, the cab was too small for us to keep from touching, and our thighs pressed together as we rode, every bump and jostle pushing us closer together. It was also too small for me to take my shoes off, though my toes itched to be free.
“Don’t worry,” Hank said with a pat on my knee as we left Logan behind, the busy streets transitioning to fields. “That tire shop does good work. They’ll get you back on the road first thing tomorrow.”
Hank was a tall, thin man wearing a faded green baseball cap and blue overalls. His white beard, a new feature since the last time I’d seen him, would have made Santa Claus proud. He drove slowly along the roads to Hyrum, not seeming to notice the number of cars passing us. Instead, he turned up the volume on a local radio station, country music crackling from the speakers. We passed fields and houses, the space a breath of fresh air after navigating the congestion of the Wasatch front on the freeway.
“Dot is beyond thrilled to have the two of you staying with us. You would think it was Thanksgiving or Christmas with how she’s rambling on. She’s running around like we’ve never had guests before.” Hank gave an exasperated shake of his head, but the grin tipping up his lips hinted at his own excitement as we turned onto Hank and Dot’s street.
It was a quiet, tree-lined road with few houses, fields creating distance between each home and its nearest neighbor.
“We’re just grateful you’d open your home to us,” Grey said.
We pulled up in front of Hank’s house, and I was immediately hit with a flood of memories. My own grandparents, while loving, lived states away and only visited for holidays and big life events. Tory had grown up an hour away from her grandparents, frequently taking weekend trips to visit them and help on the farm. Even when she’d moved to college, she’d made time to visit Hank and Dot. It was on those trips that I’d come to see how a family could be. Hours spent working, laughing, and teasing resulted in a community and closeness I could only dream of. Even now, with my much younger half-sisters, I sensed my mom getting that type of family. Unfortunately, now that I lived in Utah and they were still in California, the closeness didn’t include me. My childhood memories would forever be a mix of loneliness and anxiety peppered with impulsive fun, nothing like the happy, steady consistency of so many of my friends’ families.
One of the reasons Emily and I had become such close friends was because of our similar family situations. She’d grown up with a single—though much less impulsive—mom. She’d understood my struggles in a way no one else had, which had made losing her friendship even more difficult.
Pushing aside wishes for what could have been, I followed Grey out of the truck and to the large front porch lined with a flower garden full of bright blue and purple blooms. Dot stood next to two wooden rocking chairs on the porch, arms flung open in greeting, a giant smile emphasizing the wrinkles lining her face.
“Audrey.” She wrapped me in a firm hug, her head barely reaching my shoulder. “It’s been a long time. How are you, my dear?”
I returned the embrace, emotion gathering in my throat at the contact. I could feel the anxiety in my chest ease the slightest bit as I breathed in her familiar vanilla scent. It was like she’d been baking and decided to dab the spice behind her ears before putting the bottle away.
I cleared my throat before speaking, not wanting my emotions to show. “I’m good, Dot. Thank you for letting us stay here.”
Dot waved a hand, dismissing my gratitude. “It’s what family does. Now, introduce me to your man.”
“Oh, we’re not—”
“I’m not her—”
Grey and I spoke over each other, racing to get out the words and clarify Dot’s confusion.
“Tory mentioned him when she called. Told me all about how you’d found a man who pushes your buttons and helps you get out of your comfort zone. I’m so glad! You’ve been single for too long. That Lyle boy was an idiot.” Dot rambled on, seeming oblivious to my protests—and Grey’s. Instead, she wrapped Grey in a hug, her head just reaching his chest.
From her permed short white hair to her knit purple cardigan and small, stooped frame, Dot radiated homey and friendly, which made popping her bubble difficult.
“Dot, I don’t know what Tory told you, but Grey and I aren’t dating.” I gestured vaguely between us. “We’re…” I wasn’t really sure how to describe what we were. Acquaintances? Friends? Road trip buddies?
Dot took only a moment to process the information before shaking her head, her grin growing wider. “Really? This old brain of mine struggles sometimes. I must have misunderstood Tory when she called.”
Grey quirked an eyebrow. “If you could jump to that level of misunderstanding, it makes me wonder what Tory said.”
“Oh, now that you ask, I don’t remember. Sometimes it’s a miracle I remember anything at all. Don’t get old, it messes up everything.” Dot waved away the question, but I didn’t believe her for a minute. Dot was sharper than women half her age. Tory had said something that led her to think we were dating, but knowing Dot, she’d never break the confidence and tell us. “I’m sorry about your car, but I’m grateful for the company. I made cookies, and there’s no way Hank and I could eat them all.”
Dot led us into the kitchen, where the aroma of baked goods and several wire racks filled with peanut butter cookies greeted us. The kitchen looked exactly as I remembered: off-white Formica countertops, dated appliances, and faded yellow wallpaper. Yet, despite its clear age, the kitchen was cozy and well-cared for. It was the kind of kitchen that had seen decades of homemade bread and canned peaches.
“Speak for yourself, woman. I could eat all of these, no problem,” Hank joked, coming up behind Dot to wrap his arms around her waist and plop a kiss on top of her head.
“Oh you,” Dot said as she broke out of his embrace and moved towards the avocado-green fridge. “Grab yourselves a cookie or two. Do you want milk?”
“I’m good with just a cookie, thank you,” Grey said, grabbing one and giving me a wink. “But maybe Audrey wants some. Especially if it’s root beer flavored.”
I rolled my eyes, pretending Grey’s familiar comment didn’t faze me, though a small smile tipped the corner of my lips.
Dot’s face pinched in confusion as she pulled the jug of milk from the fridge and held it up for me. “I don’t know about root beer milk, but I’ve got two percent.”
“I’m good, thank you.” I shook my head, my stomach too tied in knots to enjoy food at the moment. My body and brain had yet to fully let go of the nerves from our trip so far. I was struggling to let go of my timeline and embrace the change in plans. Being here in this familiar setting with Dot and Hank should help my nerves settle soon. “I don’t want to spoil dinner.”
Dot returned the milk to the fridge with a nod. “I expect both of you to eat at least two cookies after dinner. Life’s too short not to enjoy dessert.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll eat a dozen—or more. Who can say no to your cookies?” Hank asked, carrying a stack of white plates to the table and setting them down with a gentle clank. Dot’s cookies really were the best.
I hadn’t noticed that two pizza boxes and a salad already sat on the worn wooden table.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner,” I stammered, realizing anew just how much we must have inconvenienced this sweet couple.
“You didn’t. I picked up the pizza while Hank got you. We divided and conquered!” Dot said as she carried over glasses and a pitcher of water, the ice clinking against the glass. “Though, I couldn’t help but order two kinds. We used to do it to keep picky eaters happy, and old habits die hard.”
She waved for Grey and me to take a seat, and we settled into chairs next to each other, across from Dot and Hank. The old chairs creaked as we sat, the worn, striped cushions doing little to pad our seats.
Hank reached for the closest box, serving himself a slice before passing it to me. At the familiar aroma of pizza, the knot of anxiety that had been sitting in my stomach since we’d discovered the flat tire dissipated and my stomach growled as I grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza. Everyone served themselves, the only sound the noises that accompanied dishing up and eating food.
“Grey,” Dot said, “tell us about yourself. It’s not every day we get to play host to a handsome young man, particularly one who’s friends with our Audrey. We think of her as another granddaughter, you know.”
I paused my eating, letting her kind words wash over me.
With how infrequently I’d visited them growing up, I doubted my own grandparents would have exhibited this level of curiosity in Grey. The one time I’d taken Lyle to visit, they’d spent the time asking me about my mom and half-sisters, only caring to learn the basics about Lyle when I’d mentioned how long we’d been dating.
When my mom had gotten pregnant with me, my grandparents had stepped in to help as much as they could, but they’d had other children to worry about, their situation already difficult enough to make ends meet. It didn’t help that my mom’s independent streak had often caused her to clash with her parents as she’d insisted she could do things on her own instead of accepting their help, which had often come with strings attached. This meant my grandparents had quickly become infrequent figures in my life, the bulk of their visits happening over holidays because that was how often my mom could handle being around them.
Dot’s words left me feeling warm and loved, though I struggled knowing how to react. I wanted to wrap Dot in a hug and hold on tight, but I also knew she wasn’t my grandma. While she spoke the words, did she really mean them?
“What would you like to know?” Grey asked, setting down his slice of pizza to give Dot his full attention.
“Why aren’t you dating Audrey?” Dot asked, brow quirked, a look of complete innocence filling her face.
I inhaled sharply at Dot’s question, sending water down the wrong tube and triggering a coughing fit. Grey patted me on the back as I sputtered, trying to catch my breath.
“You okay there, honey?” Hank looked at me with concern.
I nodded, my eyes watering.
“That’s a good man you’ve got there, Audrey. Watching out for you like my Hank does for me.” Dot’s eyes fairly sparkled as she looked back and forth between Grey and me.
“Oh, he’s not…we’re just…” I broke off, not sure how to explain my relationship with Grey. Acquaintance felt like the wrong word, but could I claim him as a friend? We really didn’t know each other that well, but at the same time friend felt insufficient for describing what we were. Was there a word for bonding with someone while on a road trip on which all my plans had to be thrown out the window?
“I do my best to watch out for my friends,” Grey said, coming to my rescue. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, underscoring his words.
While the contact was brief, it caused warmth to fill my chest. I wanted to grab his hand again and twine my fingers with his. There was something grounding about Grey’s touch. I wondered if I sank into it, made it a more regular occurrence in my life, if it would chase away my worries and help me let go more.
I turned towards Grey, my eyes catching on his, and I paused at the genuine kindness I saw in their depths.
“You two are too cute!” Dot said, bringing us back to the moment. “Are you sure you’re not dating?”
I reached for my water, using the drink to distract me from the confusing mix of emotions I was experiencing. While I felt some humor and lingering nerves, I’d also felt a zing of attraction and perhaps something even more as I’d looked at Grey. It had been a long time since a man had looked out for my needs, and the sensation was both foreign and welcome.
“We just met this morning,” I said, needing a change of topic. “My car couldn’t make the trip to Idaho and Grey agreed to give me a ride.”
Dinner passed quickly after that, with Dot asking questions about our trip. We all pitched in to clean up dishes, despite Dot’s insistence that she and Hank could handle it. Grey wouldn’t hear of it, slipping on a floral apron and stationing himself at the sink to wash dishes. Something about a large bearded man wearing a frilly pink and yellow apron set my toes to curling and my lips to smiling.
I settled in next to Grey, drying the dishes and stacking them on the counter for Hank to put away. As I finished the last plate, I stifled a yawn, my early morning and the long hours of travel catching up with me.
“Let me show you two to your room. You must be tired.” Dot paused, seeming to consider us for a moment. “The two of you don’t mind sharing, do you? Since you’re friends, I hope it won’t be an issue.”
My foggy brain barely registered her words, instead fast-forwarding to images of the comfy, if cramped, twin bed I’d slept in on my previous visits. It was covered in a dated, homemade quilt and a mountain of pillows. I couldn’t wait to bury myself in it.
Dot bustled past us, leading Grey and me to a staircase I knew from experience branched off into a bathroom and two tiny bedrooms barely big enough for twin beds. We paused near the front door to grab our bags and then headed down the narrow hallway. The worn green carpet brushed my toes as I walked, and I examined the family photos on the walls as we passed. I recognized several of the faces, including Tory and her parents and siblings. The pictures had been updated since my last visit, with a few new faces added to the mix.
“Thankfully, we just got a new bed for the spare room. Otherwise, the two of you would be sleeping in the little twin beds our girls used as kids.”
Dot continued talking, gesturing to the different pictures we passed and explaining who occupied the various photos that filled her home. But my mind had snagged on one detail: the word bed, as in singular. It seemed odd that Dot would only replace one bed when I considered that the beds Tory and I slept in on our previous visits had probably been equally old and worn. Maybe Dot and Hank were staggering the expenses, redoing one room and then the other in their tiny farmhouse. I hoped they’d save the kitchen for last. There was something quaint and welcoming about the dated room.
When we reached the end of the hall, I paused in confusion. I clearly remembered there being three doors: two that led to separate bedrooms and a third leading to the bathroom. Instead, only two doors greeted us.
“It cost a pretty penny, but the renovation was worth it, in my opinion. Making a bigger bedroom that could fit a couple, as opposed to two tiny bedrooms, just made sense. I know it sounds silly, getting rid of a bedroom, but both my girls have already come to visit for multiple days with their husbands, which never used to happen when we only had the tiny bedrooms.”
My mind whirled as I tried to digest what Dot was saying. Bedroom. As in singular. Dot’s comment about sharing now made perfect sense. There was one room to sleep in, which meant one bed for Grey and me to share. While I liked Grey and we got on well enough, we were far from any relationship status that would make sharing a bed comfortable or welcome. I wanted to tell Dot I’d sleep on the tiny couch in the front room—anything to avoid sharing a room—but the words were trapped in my throat.
Dot flung open the spare room door like a game show host revealing the grand prize. The room on the other side was far from spacious, though it did boast more room than the previous spare rooms. Not that we could really tell because filling nearly the entire room was a giant bed covered in more pillows, lace, and frills than I’d ever seen in a single space. I nearly choked again as I took in the pink monstrosity, the biggest bed I’d ever seen before in my life. The strap of my duffle slid off my shoulder, underscoring my surprise as the bag hit the floor with a thud.
“We decided to splurge and get a California king. We figured it would encourage the girls and their husbands to visit more often if they knew we had a comfortable bed waiting.” Dot fairly glowed with pride and excitement as my hopes for a restful night disappeared like dust in the wind.