Bree sat numbly in her seat, her eyes wide. In the last five minutes two very, very big things had massively shifted in her life. She stared at her cell phone, then glanced at the empty seat next to her, where Nick should've been sitting. She took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed, helpless, and just a little lost. Granted, she knew that at worst the shuttle would make a return trip and she'd just meet Nick again back at the other end, but it was still unnerving. Especially given the latest from Baylee on the phone.
You need to come home now before Uncle Nick gets arrested. Mom reported you missing.
Bree gnawed her lower lip.
Amanda drove carefully down the dirt road behind the shuttle bus. Nick was silent beside her, staring at the dash board, his eyes unfocused. She wasn't sure what to say, how to break the ice. Finally, she said, "Nice day, isn't it?"
Nick looked over at her. "I can't believe you're here."
"And yet, here I am," Amanda answered, a chipper tone to her voice.
"Why did you come?" he asked.
Amanda had asked herself that very same question about fifteen times over the last few days. She'd had a list of reasons when she'd been the one asking it, but suddenly all the answers sounded stupid and forced when he asked. Only one sounded right. She bit her lip. "Because," she said, "You said you lied."
Nick stared at her, her answer echoing in his head like she'd shouted it off a cliff. "You came because I still love you," he reworded her response.
She drew a deep breath. "Yes," she answered.
Nick hesitated. "Does that mean..." he paused. C'mon Carter. Ask. "Does that mean you still love me, too?" he asked.
"Yes," Amanda replied.
Nick's throat constricted and he felt his eyes burn at the edges with the threat of tears. He stared out the window until he'd regained his composure, then turned back to Amanda. "I read everything," he said, "Every article you write, everything." He gushed the words. Because of the nerves of not being able to call Officer Mead the night before...and finding out about Leighanne to Amanda being there to the shuttle bus pulling away, and the emotion of the trip... he felt punch drunk. "I've missed you," he added.
"I've missed you," Amanda responded.
Nick's voice was thick with sincerity, "If you give me another chance, I'll be different this time. I'll sober up, I'll work hard. I'll be a better man, a better person." When she opened her mouth to respond to this, Nick interrupted her, panic in his voice. "Amanda, please, I'll be everything you ask of me."
"You already are," Amanda answered.
Bree stepped down off the shuttle bus. Nick's car sat quietly and she pulled herself up onto the trunk to sit and wait for Nick to catch up to her. Her cell phone vibed in her lap - it was Nick. Stay there, I'm on my way. She crossed her legs and waited. She stared around her at the trees and sky and her mind started to wander.
The past couple of days, since she and Nick had left his house in Los Angeles, she'd felt the closest she'd ever felt to her father in her entire life. She'd learned more about him than she'd learned from anyone before. She could still vividly remember the first time it had really occurred to her that she didn't have a father - the day in Kindergarten that they were supposed to bring their dads in to talk about what they do for a living and Brianna didn't have one to bring along. That was the first time she'd asked about her father, about where he was and why he wasn't there to go to school with her.
It was the first time her mother had refused to talk about him.
When she was little, she hardly even had seen a picture of him. All she knew of him was the sad look in Baylee's eyes and the ghost of Leighanne that haunted the house every February. Then Nick had given her that Bible. She found a couple pictures tucked inside - pictures from their times on the road trip, after he was sick, when his face had started to change and his eyes were more defeated than they had once been. She thought this was her father for the longest time, this man with slightly sunken cheeks, a sad smile, and eyes that held depth beyond their years. She read the notes in the margin of the text, clinging to what they revealed about him, always wondering different things about him.
Then she discovered the music.
The music was something that she'd heard about here and there - obviously, it was impossible not to know about it, but it had never really occurred to her that there were recordings and albums and things she could hear and listen to. She found the box of music in the attic one day when she was eleven and had taken over the attic to make a playroom. She'd been clearing a spot out and a box tipped over and out spilled a couple CDs. At first, she hadn't recognized him he'd looked so entirely different on the CD covers. Rather, she spotted his name. Bree had sat on the floor of the attic, the boom box quietly playing the CDs, listening to the songs. Some she'd heard before - like I Want It That Way, of course - but most she never knew had existed.
That night, she'd looked up the web address on the back of the CDs to see if there was anything online to learn of her father. She'd ended up on YouTube, watching videos fans had made. She watched him dance across stages, with brilliant smiles and shining, beautiful eyes. She watched him do impressions of celebrities, and do somersaults in his chair on MTV. She watched as the tour bus broke down, and they stuck their heads into icy coolers. She watched him do hand stands and cartwheels, talk like Donald Duck, and sing. Lots and lots of singing. She admired the way he scrunched up his nose when he sang, and lifted his knee (and yes, she saw the video of Nick making fun of him for lifting his knee, too).
But that was all she'd known of him... until now.
She was bitterly angry at her mother for reporting Nick... angry at Nick for telling her that Leighanne had agreed to let her go on the road trip... but no amount of anger or trouble could make her wish she hadn't gone. And no amount of either could make her want to go home just yet, either. She pictured Nick hearing that Leighanne was worried and instantly wanting to hop a plane to Georgia. She didn't want the trip to be over.
She decided not to tell him about the text from Baylee.
Bree was sitting on the back of Nick's car when Amanda pulled into the lot. She parked next to the car and Bree twisted to watch as they got out of the car. Amanda smiled, "Hi," she said tentatively.
"I can't believe they just pulled away like that," Nick announced as he climbed out, too.
Bree shoved her phone into her pocket. "Yeah, that was crazy. I'm glad you got a ride." She jumped down off the back of the car. Her stomach felt a little funny knowing what she was planning on keeping from Nick.
"Bree," Nick's voice shifted tones, he sounded careful now. He cleared his throat, "This is Amanda Golde," he introduced her. "Amanda, Brianna Littrell."
Bree started to hold out a hand to shake Amanda's, but Amanda leaped toward her and wrapped her arms around her instead. "You look so much like your father," Amanda gasped into Bree's hair.
Bree laughed, "Yeah, everyone says that." Amanda pulled back, her eyes full of tears, and swiped them away with the back of her hand.
"If it's okay with you," Nick said, "Amanda wants to join us on the rest of the trip."
Bree smiled. She pointed at Nick. "I knew you were calling Amanda," she accused. "At all the gas stations and stuff."
Amands glanced at him, an eyebrow raised, as he nodded, "Yeah well," he said, neither confirming nor denying Bree's accusation. Amanda gave him a quizzical look, but Nick shook his head microscopically. Bree didn't notice.
They drove back into the city - Amanda in her rental, Nick and Bree in Nick's car. They dropped off Amanda's rental car and cancelled her hotel room and Nick drove back to the cabin for their last night in Boulder City. They ordered in pizza that night and sat at the table catching up as the sun set over the mountains in the distance. After eating, they settled down to watch some TV and laughed the night away at the sitcoms until late, when Nick announced he was going to bed because they had a long day of driving ahead of them the next day.
"Night," both girls chorused.
After Nick had left, Amanda turned to Bree. "You're so grown up since last time I saw you," she said, smiling. "You're gorgeous."
Bree flushed. "So are you. I love your hair."
Amanda laughed. "Really? I hate it. It's so unruly."
"It looks great," Bree argued. She looked at her fingers. "Nick said you're a writer."
Amanda nodded, "I am. I write for a magazine in Boston."
"He said that, too. He's got like every issue ever at his house," Bree said.
It was Amanda's turn to flush. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back her desire to dance around excitedly at the news that Nick had kept up with her. She had to change the subject to suppress that. "So what do you want to be when you grow up?" Amanda asked Bree.
"A writer, too," Bree answered.
Amanda smiled, "Really?"
"Yeah, I love writing," Bree replied, "I take this class at school about writing. It's my favorite class. I write all the time. Just stupid stories, you know?"
"That's how I started," Amanda said. "Anytime you want help out with a story or you want someone to proofread, just let me know, I'll be happy to help you out. Maybe I could even talk to my editor... we have a short stories and poems section that's filled with work submitted by readers. I bet I could get you in there."
Bree's eyes lit up with excitement, "Really?"
"Yeah, it'd be great."
"Yeah it would!" Bree grinned, "That would be so cool." She imagined seeing her name in print - her work in a magazine. She felt tingly all over at the very idea of such a thing. Then she paused. She studied Amanda for a moment as her mind switched gears. "You knew my dad," she said.
Amanda nodded, "I did. I loved him very much -- as a friend, of course. He was an amazing man."
Bree took a deep breath, "You came on this road trip the first time?"
"Sixteen years ago," Amanda confirmed.
"Was he in pain?" Bree asked, "When he died?"
Amanda shook her head. "He did a concert at the Braves stadium in Atlanta that night. He sang like an angel."
Bree had watched the video of the concert. It had been released on DVD and she'd ordered a used copy on eBay. She'd never realized that was the night he had died. She felt tears spring to her eyes at the thought of how alive he'd been at that show, how his eyes had glistened and his voice had quavered over the words of that last song... Her throat swelled up and she felt the wind escape out of her. "I wish so much..." she started, but she couldn't even get the words out before the constriction in her throat strangled her voice.
Amanda reached over and wrapped her arms around Bree's shoulders. "I know," she whispered.
"Just once..." Bree sobbed.
Amanda stroked Bree's back gently. "I know."
