CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Wes: You awake?
Bee smiled at the message and pulled the blankets higher around herself. She had been watching his video only seconds earlier. Now his name glowed at the top of her screen.
Bee: No. I’m asleep.
The screen lit again before Bee could put the phone down. She opened his answer and pressed her lips together to keep from laughing too loudly. Grandma was asleep down the hall, and Bee had no intention of explaining why she was laughing at her phone after midnight.
Wes: I didn’t know you could text in your sleep. Quick, what are the Powerball numbers?
Bee looked toward the dark window while she tried to think of six numbers. Nothing came to her, so she chose the first ones that crossed her mind. Her thumbs moved quickly across the screen.
Bee: 4, 45, 63, 2, 34, and 6.
Several seconds passed without an answer. Bee was beginning to wonder whether Wes had fallen asleep when another message appeared. She read it twice, certain she had missed the joke.
Wes: I’m driving to the gas station now.
Bee sat upright and pushed the blankets into her lap. Wes had asked for numbers as a joke. At least, she had thought he was joking.
Bee: Wait. You’re actually buying a ticket?
Wes: You gave me the numbers.
Bee shook her head as she typed. Her smile returned before she finished the message. Wes had accepted six random numbers as though she had spent years choosing them.
Bee: I made them up.
Wes: Too late.
She pictured him pulling into the gas station with her random numbers on his phone. The whole idea was ridiculous, but he was already going inside. Bee could think of two things she wanted more than a lottery ticket.
Bee: Can you get me a candy bar and Hot Cheetos?
His typing indicator appeared almost immediately and hovered at the bottom of the screen. Bee waited until his answer replaced it.
Wes: Anything else?
Bee looked around her room as though something inside it might give her an idea. Nothing on the dresser or nightstand helped. She smiled when an answer came to her anyway.
Bee: Surprise me.
The typing indicator disappeared. Bee waited with the phone in her hand and wondered what Wes considered a surprise from a gas station. His answer arrived before she could begin guessing.
Wes: On my way.
Bee climbed out of bed and pulled a sweatshirt over her pajamas. She walked quietly down the hallway without fixing her hair or checking her reflection. Wes had already seen her with a loose knot falling apart on top of her head, so there was no point pretending she looked different after midnight.
Headlights moved across the front window a short time later. Bee reached the door before Wes could knock and opened it to find him standing on the porch. He held a plastic shopping bag in one hand and pinched the Powerball ticket between the fingers of the other.
Wes looked at her pajamas and smiled. “You’re really awake.”
Bee leaned against the doorframe. “I told you I was asleep.”
He held up the lottery ticket. “I figured I’d better bring proof.”
Bee took the ticket and compared it with the message she had sent him. Every number was there, including the six in the Powerball spot. Wes had actually trusted the first numbers that entered her head.
“They’re right,” Bee said.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Wes replied.
Bee reached into the bag and pulled out a candy bar, followed by a bag of Hot Cheetos. Wes had bought exactly what she requested. Another package remained at the bottom.
“You remembered,” Bee said.
Wes looked at the snacks in her hands. “You asked.”
Bee reached into the bag again. “What else did you get?”
His attention moved toward the dark hallway behind her. “A peace offering.”
Bee pulled out a box of doughnuts and started laughing. “You brought Grandma doughnuts?”
“Showing up after midnight seemed like a good reason to stay on her good side,” Wes explained.
Bee moved the box beneath the porch light and looked through the clear lid. A row of glazed doughnuts filled the box, exactly the kind Grandma liked. “You’re learning.”
“I’ve been paying attention,” Wes said.
The floor creaked behind Bee before she could answer. Grandma appeared at the end of the hallway in her robe. Her attention moved from Wes to Bee before settling on the doughnuts.
Grandma walked toward them. “Well, that’s thoughtful.”
Wes took the box from Bee and held it out. “These are for you.”
Grandma opened the lid and inspected the doughnuts before choosing one. “Very smart.”
Bee covered her mouth while Wes smiled. Grandma had accepted the offering faster than either of them could have hoped. One doughnut had accomplished what a long explanation probably could not.
“I was hoping you’d approve,” Wes said.
Grandma took a bite. “You may survive another visit.”
Bee lowered her hand. “Grandma.”
Grandma carried the box toward the kitchen. “Goodnight, you two.”
Bee waited until Grandma disappeared before turning back to Wes. He still wore the satisfied smile of someone whose plan had worked perfectly. The first doughnut had barely made it as far as the kitchen.
“You just bought yourself a lot of points,” Bee said.
“That was the plan,” Wes replied.
Bee looked at the snacks in her hands. The doughnuts had been funny, but Wes had still driven across town because she asked for chips and a candy bar. He stood on her porch as though there was nothing unusual about showing up for her in the middle of the night.
“You know you didn’t have to come here,” Bee said.
“I know,” Wes replied.
“You have work in the morning,” Bee reminded him.
“I know that too,” Wes said.
Bee studied his face. “Then why did you come?”
Wes shrugged as though the answer required no thought. “You wanted snacks.”
The simple answer made her smile. Wes did not turn the trip into a grand gesture or wait for her to praise him. The snacks had given him a reason to come, and neither of them needed to say more than that.
“That’s a very simple reason,” Bee said.
“I’m a simple man,” Wes replied.
Bee stepped aside and opened the door wider. “Come inside before Grandma decides you’ve been standing out here too long.”
Wes entered, and Bee closed the door behind him. They sat across from each other at the kitchen table while Bee opened the Hot Cheetos. The lottery ticket rested between them beside her candy bar.
Bee pushed the ticket toward the center of the table. “If we win, I’m keeping half.”
Wes looked from the ticket to her. “You didn’t buy it.”
“You wouldn’t have bought it without my numbers,” Bee pointed out.
Wes considered that before nodding. “I think that makes it a partnership.”
“Exactly,” Bee said.
She ate another Hot Cheetos and studied the ticket. The numbers still looked as random as they had when she typed them. Nothing about them suggested they were worth losing sleep over.
Wes leaned back in his chair. “What are you buying with your half?”
Bee did not need time to think. “New shopping carts for that grocery store.”
Wes stared at her. “You’re spending lottery money on shopping carts?”
“I’m helping the community,” Bee explained.
“You could buy one good cart for yourself,” Wes suggested.
Bee shook her head. “Someone would take it before I got through the produce.”
Wes laughed and reached for the bag of Hot Cheetos. Bee pulled it toward herself before he could take one. His hand closed around empty air.
“These are mine,” Bee said.
Wes pointed toward the ticket. “I thought we were partners.”
“Only if we win,” Bee replied.
Wes reached for the ticket instead. Bee covered it with her hand, and he looked at her fingers spread across the numbers.
“If you take the ticket, you’re taking all the risk,” Wes said.
Bee pulled it closer. “I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”
The old clock in the hallway chimed once before Wes could answer. Bee looked toward it and realized it was one in the morning. Wes followed her attention, glanced at the dark hallway, and pushed his chair back.
“You should probably go home,” Bee said.
Wes stood from the table. “Probably.”
Bee picked up the lottery ticket before he could reach for it. “I’m keeping this.”
“Of course you are,” Wes said.
She followed him to the front door with the ticket in one hand. The Hot Cheetos and candy bar waited on the kitchen table behind them. Bee kept the ticket tucked against her palm in case Wes made one last attempt to claim it.
Wes stepped onto the porch. “Goodnight, Bee.”
“Goodnight, Wes,” Bee replied.
She watched him climb into his truck before closing the door. On her way back to her room, she stopped beside the blue flowers and adjusted one stem that had fallen against the vase. She was still smiling when she continued down the hallway.
The next morning, Bee placed the Powerball ticket beside the Hot Cheetos on the kitchen counter. The doughnut box sat nearby with only two left inside. She leaned her phone against the sugar canister and opened the camera.
Bee had not fixed her hair or put on makeup. She still looked as though she had just climbed out of bed, which matched the story she wanted to tell. Grandma moved around the kitchen behind her while Bee tapped the red button.
“Ladies, find yourself a man who will stop for Hot Cheetos and a candy bar after midnight,” Bee said. “He was already going to buy a Powerball ticket because he decided the numbers I made up were lucky.”
She held the ticket toward the camera before lifting the Hot Cheetos into view. The bag crackled in her hand, loud enough to make Grandma glance over. Bee lowered it slightly and kept talking.
“I asked for two things, and he showed up with both,” Bee continued. “He even brought doughnuts for Grandma because he wanted to stay on her good side.”
Grandma opened the doughnut box behind her. “He brought the right kind.”
Bee glanced over her shoulder. “That was the most important part?”
“It helped,” Grandma replied.
Bee faced the camera again and lifted the doughnut box into the frame. “If he remembers your snacks and brings something for your grandma, that’s a man who pays attention.”
Grandma reached past her and took one of the remaining doughnuts. “He does.”