A Coventry Wedding. Becky Cochrane
out the window. “How long have I been asleep? Where are we?”
“A little over three hours. Near Las Cruces. We’ll stop in El Paso in about an hour.”
“To eat?” she asked, wondering if he could hear her stomach growling.
“That and a night’s sleep.”
“But El Paso—that’s in Texas. Can’t we just drive on to Dallas? Or Coventry? Wherever.”
He glanced at her and said, “Did you look at a map before you started this trip?”
“Sort of,” she said, wishing he wouldn’t ask so many questions. He was practically forcing her to lie to him.
“We’ve got an eight-hour drive ahead of us tomorrow. There’s no way I’m going straight through. Not to mention you look like you could use more than just a nap.”
“You always say the nicest things. I don’t know why you’re still single.”
“Just because I’m not married doesn’t mean I’m single,” he said.
She ignored him while the Beatles continued going back to that same old winding road. When the song changed, she cut her eyes at him and said, “Texas isn’t exactly the most enlightened state, is it? How did your parents handle the news that they had a gay kid?”
He stared straight ahead, looking a little surprised, then he grinned and said, “Unlike Texas, my parents are very enlightened. They handled it just fine.”
She couldn’t help but smirk. Her assumption that he was gay had turned out to be a lot more accurate than his assumption that she was stupid. She turned around and looked at Sue, who was on her back with her legs all spread out. The dog clearly had no sense of modesty or propriety—
“Wait,” she said anxiously. “What? We’re spending the night together?”
“You’re not my type, remember?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road and flashing that crooked grin again.
“I meant,” she said, her tone icy, “do you expect me to sleep all night in this truck on the side of the road?”
“No. We’ll get a couple of motel rooms. If you don’t have enough money—”
“I can pay for both rooms,” she interrupted. “In exchange for the tow. I just thought it might be hard to find a place that’ll take your dog.”
“Oh, so if someone has to sleep in the tow truck with her, you’re suddenly willing to admit that she’s my dog.”
“Technically, it’s not a tow truck,” she reminded him. She saw the shiny trails of dried dog saliva on the backseat and smiled. “As for the dog, I think you and Sue are perfect for each other.” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “I’d never have called—er, named her Sue.”
“What would you er-name her?”
“Something with more panache. Something dramatic and uniquely hers.”
“She’s a dog,” Sam said. “Not America’s Next Top Model.”
“You have no imagination.”
“I’ve got plenty of imagination,” he disagreed. She noticed that his eyebrow slipped up again in that way it had.
“Puckish,” she said, wondering if that was the right word to describe his expression.
“That’s the dumbest name for a dog I ever heard.”
“I wasn’t—never mind.”
“Puckish,” he muttered. “And dramatic? I suppose you’d call her Juliet?”
Jandy glanced back at Sue with a dubious expression and said, “I don’t think so. She’s not quite delicate enough. I was looking for something more substantial. Isis. Or Natasha. Natasha’s a strong name.”
“Then she’d have to contend with moose and squirrel,” Sam said in a funny accent.
“Huh?”
It was his turn to cut his eyes at her and say, “Moose. Squirrel.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Bullwinkle? Rocky?”
“Oh,” she said. “The cartoon. I never saw it.”
“You never saw Rocky and Bullwinkle?” he asked in an incredulous tone.
“I’ve never watched cartoons.”
After a minute of stunned silence, he said, “Daffy? Bugs? Roadrunner?”
“Nothing animated.”
“Speed Racer? Homer Simpson? Ninja Turtles?” He sounded dazed.
“Nope. And before you get worked up over Disney, no Mickey, Dalmatians, or dwarves.”
“How is that possible?”
“My mother didn’t believe in watching cartoons. Or animated films. She thought it was ridiculous for a child to grow up thinking that mice could talk or dogs could drive cars.”
She didn’t add that a long-ago summer job had made her all too aware that Anaheim wasn’t really the “Happiest Place on Earth,” just a place where tourists spent a lot of money to mingle with people in animal costumes. Even the news that the freshly painted yellow submarines were scheduled to return to find Nemo couldn’t lure her back to Disneyland.
“Snoopy,” Sam said. “You must have seen the Peanuts specials on holidays.”
“Nope.” She thought about it and added, “I knew Snoopy from reading the comics when I visited my grandpa. And Foxtrot, Luann, Cathy, and Doonesbury.”
“That’s something, I guess,” Sam said, still sounding a little dazed.
“Too bad Sue’s not a boy. She could be Zonker. Or Hobbes. I loved reading Calvin and Hobbes.”
“No Great Pumpkin,” Sam mused as if talking to himself. “No Wile E. Coyote. No Betty Rubble. No Scooby…”
She let him ramble on without comment. She had more practical things to worry about, like whether gifts had to be returned if a wedding was only postponed and not really canceled. It had been daunting to write thank-you notes for a zillion presents. She couldn’t imagine having to box them up and return them.
What would the forever single Cathy do, she wondered.
That, Pru scolded, is exactly why your mother knew cartoons were bad for you. Get real.
Chapter 3
The sky was awash with dozens of variations of orange, blue, and yellow by the time they got to El Paso. Jandy wanted to enjoy the beauty, but she was uncomfortably aware that she needed a restroom and suggested that Sam might want to pick an exit with a promising motel sooner rather than later.
Sam said it would be better to eat first and then find a motel, explaining, “I’d rather leave Sue alone in the truck with the windows cracked than in a motel room.”
Jandy nodded, remembering HoliTyme Hotel, Inc. v. Randolph, et al. (San Diego County Superior Court), and said, “Yeah. She might chew through a wall. Or use the bed as her bathroom. Who knows what bad habits she has? Something made that guy ditch her.”
“Meanness made that guy ditch her,” Sam said, pulling into a Denny’s parking lot. “She’s probably his wife’s dog, and they had a fight. Jerk.”
Jandy covertly checked out the area and had to admit that Sam couldn’t have chosen a better place to eat. Not only were there motels within walking distance of Denny’s, but she spotted a Target at the nearby mall. All she had to do was get away from him, buy a suitcase, and fill it with a few necessities and a change of clothes. She didn’t want Sam to know that she had no luggage. Not that it was any of his business. But if he found out she’d