Chapter 34
CHATS, CATS, AND AUTOMOBILES
Declan
Ginny smells like her favorite oatmeal walnut chocolate chip cookies and anxiety as we pull onto the back highway behind the winery, and I give in to the urge to reach across the console to grip her hand.
“Zander got us tickets up front and has someone who’ll seat me first, and then you as the lights go down.
And I can get dinner delivered backstage instead of going out for it. No one will see you.”
“I’m not nervous about being seen. I mean, I am a little. But I’m currently more nervous about being with you.”
I glance at her. “Why?”
“We’re either working or naked. This is like…” She drops her voice to barely a whisper. “It’s like a real relationship thing.”
“No expectations from me tonight,” I tell her while a sliver of fear slides through my stomach. Ginny overthinking is Ginny turning into a wild card.
And I could already tell she was overthinking before we got in the car.
“I know.”
“We don’t even have to have sex.”
“We are definitely having sex. I need a reward for being brave.”
I smile at that. “At your service then.”
“Dammit. Now I’m getting turned on. Say something not sexy.”
“Your friends’ questions were hilarious.”
“I mostly love them.”
“The questions, or your friends?”
“My friends.” She sighs. “And a little bit the questions.”
“They were good questions.”
“They were obnoxious.”
“Teammates would’ve done the same thing if I dated one of their sisters. Not that this is a date. Or a relationship thing.”
She shifts in her seat, still squeezing my hand. “Do you miss them?” she asks me.
“My teammates? Yeah. But we keep in touch.” I glance at her briefly before turning my attention back to the road. “You ever miss them?”
She’s quiet long enough that I glance at her one more time and find her frowning at the road.
“I don’t think I miss them because I always felt like I had to perform, so they couldn’t have been my real friends if they only liked the performative me.
But if I’d let myself relax, I’d probably miss them.
” She laughs softly. “But if I’d let myself relax, my life probably would look a lot different right now. ”
She eases her grip and slowly pulls her hand away. “I can’t remember the last time I left Foxwood.”
“Why would you? It’s charming, the people are nice, and it has an excellent name.”
She laughs. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?”
“Only way it would be better is if it was Foxywood.”
“The ego.”
“It’s well-earned ego. I did play professional hockey, and I’m even more famous now.”
She’s smiling, eyes twinkling as she twirls one of her curls. “You like it? Being famous?”
I shrug. “I like the opportunities. Getting to try new things. Taking the time to see places more in depth than I got to for road trips before. The fame—it’s a side effect. Not the main goal.”
“Dori was telling me about a road trip to Niagara Falls that she took with her grandparents. And it sounded so—so idyllic. Like they were one of those 1950s TV families. Even the part where they ran out of gas and got food poisoning. I’m sure it was horrible at the time, but she was laughing so hard about it, like even though it was bad, it was a good memory. ”
“We took my grandma on a road trip to Razzle Dazzle Village once. She thought we said we were going to Caesar’s Palace in Vegas. You have never seen a seventy-eight-year-old woman pitch a fit like the one she pitched when she realized we were at a theme park and not a gambling resort.”
“How did she get Caesar’s Palace out of Razzle Dazzle?”
“A little hope and a lot of static in her hearing aid? No idea. My dad had to take her to a casino half an hour away and missed most of vacation when the staff caught her lifting spoons at the restaurant.”
“Spoons?”
I’m smiling at the memory. “She said they looked like her spoons and she was sure that the casino hundreds of miles from home had snuck into her home and stolen them.”
“Oh, no, did she have dementia?”
I bark out a laugh. “No. She was sharp as hell until heart disease finally won two years later. She could play it up like she did though.”
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She was like Pip—a handful, but you didn’t want to imagine life without her.”
“Did you know all of your grandparents?”
“Just my dad’s mom and my mom’s dad. The other two passed away when I was young. You?”
“Not really. My mom hated her own parents and never let my dad’s parents see us. She said they were toxic. Ten says our dad’s parents called her on her bullshit and she didn’t like it. Caro says they had conflicting personalities. And I was too young to remember the last time we saw them.”
“They still around?”
“No, they both passed away right after—after Alex’s wedding. They thought Caro was Mom and that Ten was the man she was cheating on our dad with.”
“Ah.”
“I should go on a road trip.” She says it in a rush, like she’s afraid of the words.
“You should,” I say. “Do it for you. Not for them.”
“I’d have to get a new car. Mine’s ancient.”
I tilt my head at her. “You don’t drive a Range Rover too?”
Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen one parked at the house. And she doesn’t leave the winery often, so I wouldn’t have seen her getting into a car either.
She sighs. “Let me guess. My mother told you I drove a Range Rover?”
“Ah, yes. That day in the barn—she came there instead of the house because she saw my car and thought it was yours.”
“Ten drives a Range Rover. I drive a twenty-four-year-old Corolla.”
I pinch my lips together and don’t comment that her mother makes me look like a fucking saint.
Even in my be-a-dick-to-Ginny years.
“What kind of car would you get?” I ask instead.
“Honestly?”
“Of course.”
“I want a Miata and I want to get it wrapped in blue and neon green glitter so that I’m driving a mermiata.”
I can picture it, and it makes me smile. “Top down, hair blowing?”
“I’d get so many looks though.”
“Would it make you happy?”
“There’s a lot that would make me happy that isn’t practical or right.”
The weight in her sentence that has my heart doing a sprint.
Like I’m something that would make her happy.
“Fuck the expectations,” I say. “Get the car you want.”
Date the guy you want.
“Money’s a bit tight right now.”
If we were dating, I’d buy her the car she wants.
No hesitation.
But we’re not dating.
We probably shouldn’t even be going to see my brother’s show together.
I’ve been putting off calling Alex and having the talk we need to have, knowing it would be better in person, not wanting to do it at all, hiding behind the NDA Mabel made me sign.
“When your wine and gift shop turn out to be more successful than your wildest dreams, you’ll have to get your mermiata,” I say.
“I just might.”
“And go on a road trip. Own your own memories.”
She sighs again, but this one holds a grumble. “Why do you always sound like my therapist?”
“You found a smart therapist.”
She laughs and playfully shoves my arm. “Stop being funny.”
“Admit I’m smart, and I will.”
“One, no, you wouldn’t, and two, if I admit you’re smart, I’ll never live it down.”
I want to go on that road trip with Ginny.
And then I think about how Alex has always been the first person to believe in me.
He pushed me harder and harder in college, never giving up when I told him I thought I wasn’t good enough.
I wouldn’t have gotten where I did without him.
He was the first person to fight for me to stay on the team, and the first person to comment on my socials when I told him Zander had goaded me into doing Foxy Goes There.
Even when I leave the winery—even when Ginny tells me it’s over—I still owe it to my best friend to tell him the truth I’ve hidden from him for years.
But not tonight.
Tonight, I get to give Ginny happy memories in a car.
“You ever play the alphabet game?” I ask.
“If you ever say the alphabet game to me again, I’ll rack you in the nuts on purpose.”
I choke on a laugh. “Noted.”
She wouldn’t. Not Ginny.
“I would,” she says like she’s reading my mind. “Don’t test me.”
“Flow might not like it if you did.”
“She’d be on my side. She’s always on my side.”
“She is,” I agree. “She missed you.”
“She’s such a sweetie. She misses everyone.”
“She started whining right after you left.”
“This morning?”
“No—four years ago. When you weren’t around to watch her anymore.”
“Coincidence.”
“No, she missed you. You’re her favorite. You always were.”
I’m talking about myself too.
Ginny’s my favorite.
She always has been.
I glance at her, and she shifts her attention from me to the scenery outside as we drive through the valley. “How did her screen test go?”
The question makes me laugh. “Horrible. They turned the camera on, and I told her to do a celly, and she pretended to be a cat. I told her to pretend to be a cat, and she howled like a wolf. I told her to sit, and she legit took a shit right there on the stage.”
“No.”
“They turned the cameras off, and she swaggered off that set like mission accomplished, bitch. Don’t ever do that to me again.”
Ginny laughs until she’s wiping her eyes. “I can picture it. Who’s watching her?”
“Cricket.”
Ginny’s still smiling. “Of course. She’d do anything for anyone.”
“I asked Olivia and Samantha, but Cricket overheard and told me Lav wanted time with the dog when I wasn’t around to see how much she actually likes her.”
“That’s so like Cricket.”
“She’s good people.”
“I asked Mabel to invite her.”
“When she went viral?”
“Do you remember—no, you wouldn’t.”
I probably would. “Remember what?”
“A few months before I broke up with Alex, I did an interview about being on the show as a kid and then turning eighteen and finding out that my mom hadn’t saved what she was supposed to be saving for me from the show profits.”
“Mm,” I murmur.
I remember.
I overheard her talking to Alex about it when I was at their place for dinner. Flow wouldn’t leave Ginny’s side.
Saw the article later, and it wasn’t hard to pick out who one former child star who wished to remain anonymous was.
I was glad she did it.
Especially since her mother had swept into town like a tornado recently and stressed even Alex out.