CHAPTER 30
Emma
I stand outside the tiny DMV with my new driver’s license cradled in my hand. I can’t believe that after all these years, I have one. I can’t believe I passed the driver’s test.
I give all the credit to Melvin.
As I took the written test, Melvin just stared at Summer like a total goober. He either didn’t realize or didn’t care that Summer was giving me cues, shaking her head or nodding to direct me to the correct answers.
It also helped that Summer sat in the back seat during the driving part of my test, distracting Melvin at the most crucial moments.
Like when I forgot to use my signal. Or when I couldn’t locate the wipers or defroster. And when I drove up on the sidewalk while attempting a U-turn.
Sidewalks are a problem for me, it seems.
But now I have a license, a little rectangle of plastic with my name, age, height, weight, eye color, and address on it. I’m real. I exist. And maybe one day, if I can keep this job at Yosemite Ranch, I’ll have enough money to buy a car of my own.
Just days ago, such a concept would have been as likely as me being elected president of the United States.
A lot has changed in a very short time.
“You don’t like your photo?” Finn stands next to me.
I look up at him. “Huh?”
He points at my license. “You’ve been staring at it for a while now. Most women aren’t happy with their driver’s license photo, but yours is beautiful. Uh… you know, very nice. The lighting is good.”
I hide my smile. “I wasn’t looking at the photo, just the overall license. I can’t believe I have one. Especially since I don’t actually know how to drive.”
“As I said, you drive fine for Sweetbriar, and by the time you decide to venture farther away, you’ll have the hang of it for sure.”
“Oh. Thanks.” I can’t think of anything else to say. Finn is being nice to me. Thoughtful. And he smells so good this close to me. I don’t know if it’s the scent of the soap or shampoo he uses or if it’s his cologne, but whatever it is, it makes me lose my train of thought.
I take a sidestep, putting some space between us. It’s not good to notice a boss’s cologne. Or notice the way he looks at you. Or how unbelievably solid and strong he feels when you touch him.
“It was really great seeing you, Summer.” Melvin stands in the DMV doorway eyeballing Summer like she’s a Vegas all-you-can-eat buffet.
“Back at ya!” Summer bounds out to the car like a wild horse. She gives me a bear hug, squeezing me so tight it hurts. “Congratulations! You did it, Emma!”
“We did it,” I whisper.
Melvin isn’t giving up. He’s coming out to the car. Actually, he’s not a bad looking guy, maybe thirty-ish, pretty fit, light brown hair. I get the feeling that they went to school together, and maybe Melvin has always had a thing for Summer.
Except for those strategic moments during my tests, Summer hasn’t encouraged his attention. She doesn’t seem to mind it, though. It’s like she just accepts it and keeps smiling. Always smiling. If she weren’t becoming a good friend, I would envy her.
I wonder what it’s like to go through the world the way Summer does, how it would feel to live without the kind of baseline level of unease I deal with.
I’ve always pictured my anxiety as the contents of a small black backpack I carry with me wherever I go. I have happy moments, sure, but the weight of it is always there. Only on rare occasions can I drop the bag from my shoulders, unzip it, and sort through the contents.
The occasions are rare because I have to be sure I’m in a safe and private space with plenty of time afterward to pack it up and pull myself together.
Summer hands me the keys to the Toyota. “You can drive us home, now that you’re legal.”
“I’m not going back in that Toyota,” Finn says. “I already need a chiropractor. I arranged for another ride. And here it is.”
As if by magic, Finn’s Mercedes SUV pulls up to the curb. A ranch hand comes out and hands Finn the key fob.
“Thanks, Joe. This is more my speed.”
Finn pats Joe on the back and checks out his shiny, very expensive four-wheel-drive vehicle.
I think I was too nervous last night to get a good look at it.
I can’t even guess how much something like this costs.
Probably more than every paycheck I’ve ever received in my whole life, including the one I never went to pick up.
“Ready, Emma?”
I back away, shaking my head. “No. Absolutely not. I am not ready to drive that.”
Finn goes to the passenger door and opens it, smiling. “I’m driving. You’re the passenger.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, hey! Hold up!” Summer’s fists plops down on her hips and she straightens one leg out to the side. “Emma’s with me and she’s driving. She needs practice.”
I hope that Finn wins this argument. I’ve had enough of driving today. Every muscle in my body is sore from tensing for so long. I need a break.
“Coming?”
I nod and climb in. As his hand rests on my lower back, I feel the heat of his skin penetrate my thin T-shirt. Only then do I realize that I’ve spent the whole day in my porch-cleaning clothes. Finn must think I’m a slob.
I close my eyes in embarrassment.
Just then I hear the roar of a motorcycle barreling toward us. I stare out the open passenger door while Finn steps up onto the sidewalk to get a better look.
The rider is leaning forward to clutch the handlebars. He stops in front of us and removes his helmet, and thick black curls fall around his eyes. He brushes them back off his face.
It’s one of Finn’s brothers. The one who was yelling loudest when I was driving Summer’s truck.
“What’re you doing here, Declan?” Summer scowls at him.
“What’re you doing here?” He eyes Melvin then Summer again.
Oh. Declan and Summer are together. She doesn’t strike me as the type who needs a man, but it’s obvious there’s something going on between them. Declan looks like he wants to bite Melvin’s head clean off his neck.
Sharks. All the MacLaine men…
“Declan, you giant doof!” Summer throws up her hands. “You were staring right at me when I said I was taking Emma to get her license. And whad’ya know? Here I am! At the place where people come to get a license!”
The sarcasm doesn’t seem to bother Declan. “You were gone a long time, and Special K needs you to ride with him up to the rim. A couple steers broke a fence. Hurry up.”
Summer isn’t moving. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I got Phyllis’s Toyota. I’ll meet you there.”
He drops his head to the side and half closes his eyes, like she exhausts him. “Do I have to come over there and get you?”
“Hell no. You do not and you will not.”
Melvin steps closer to Summer’s side.
Uh-oh.
Declan kicks the bike stand, throws his leg over the seat, and sets down his helmet. Then he strolls over to Summer and shoves his big body into the narrow space between her and Melvin.
“Step aside, champ,” Declan says, grabbing Summer by the forearm and pulling her toward the bike.
Summer tosses the Toyota keys to Joe, who snags them in midair.
“Gotchu covered!” Joe says.
I watch more of the strange dynamic unfold between Declan and Summer. He spins her around and shoves his helmet on her head, then snaps the straps under her chin. He grabs her by the waist, lifts her up on the seat, and then slides in front of her.
I can tell by the stiff line of Summer’s shoulders that she’s pissed off. I’m surprised she hasn’t punched Declan in the throat.
He starts the engine, kicks up the stand, and slowly turns the bike.
But before he loosens the throttle, he grabs both Summer’s legs and yanks them forward so that her bent knees hug his body.
She slips her arms around his torso and tucks her head against his back, and Declan shoots off at a shocking speed.
I’m not even sure what just happened. It was either the middle of a love story or the start of a revenge slasher film.
Finn smiles at me. “Yeah. They’ve been like that since they were teenagers.”
“Interesting.”
“Declan likes fast things. He’s a pilot. When he was a kid, he ran instead of walked, rode a horse instead of ran. Then he discovered motors when he was eleven and he’s had a need for speed ever since.”
“I don’t like fast things,” I say, even though he didn’t ask me. “My dream has always been to stay in one place forever.”
His eyes narrow, and he lowers his chin, like he’s examining me. I break the eye contact because it makes me self-conscious. It makes me want too much from him and give too much of myself to him in return.
I’m hopeless.