air-conditioner on and point it this way? It’s a little stuffy back here.”
“Sure. Just let me know if it gets too much.”
“Thanks.” She opened her book and hoped it would be more interesting than the last. An hour later, tired of reading, she put the paperback down and reclined along the back of the seat, careful not to brush her feet against Vivian’s dress. She closed her eyes, thinking a nap might shorten the trip by an hour or two. She was almost drifting asleep, not paying attention to the sporadic conversation up front, when she heard her name spoken in a hushed tone. Clarisse tensed, but kept her eyes closed and forced herself to breath naturally.
“I want to know why,” Vivian whispered. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
“It has nothing to do with her,” John muttered roughly. “I don’t want to get into this right now.”
In the back seat, Clarisse frowned, baffled at being the cause of an argument. Vivian couldn’t possibly be worrying about Clarisse’s past association with John, could she?
“That’s what you always say,” the redhead retorted in a whisper. “You always have some excuse not to talk about it. Well, I’m tired of it.”
“Damn it!”
Clarisse flinched at John’s harsh tone. What in the world were they quarreling about to get him so riled?
“If you think I’m going to talk about something so private with an audience,” he continued, “you’re mistaken. It can wait till tonight.”
“She’s asleep.”
“I don’t care.”
Clarisse felt Vivian’s glare drilling into her. An itch on her nose, faint at first, grew until it became unbearable. Her hands twitched with the effort of keeping them on her lap and not her nose.
Vivian swore savagely under her breath. “Coming on this lousy trip with you was a stupid mistake! Nothing’s working out.”
Clarisse discreetly scratched her nose.
John sighed. “Maybe if you tried enjoying yourself, instead of looking at everything negatively—you wouldn’t be having such a lousy trip.”
“Humph! Lousy’s putting it mildly!”
Clarisse rolled her eyes under her closed lids. An airplane flight across the United States and the sheer terror it involved was beginning to sound preferable to being imprisoned in a vehicle with these two.
Silence cloaked the Explorer until Vivian said, “I need to go to the rest room.”
Clarisse swallowed the laugh that bubbled forth and ended up coughing. The woman was unbelievable! Sitting up, she peered around John’s seat and caught his reflection in the rear view mirror. She could have sworn she saw the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile.
At the next rest area, Clarisse opened the door. Hot, moist air blasted her. The weather forecaster hadn’t lied about a heat wave. Favoring her right leg, she stepped outside and looked around. Only two other cars and a recreational vehicle shared the parking lot. The owners were probably traveling with family or friends, thoroughly enjoying themselves. The lucky devils.
She followed Vivian down the sidewalk. More hot air, this time rank and stale, hit her when she walked into the restroom. She stepped into an empty stall, covering her nose with one hand and taking shallow breathes.
She came out and found Vivian washing her hands. Clarisse pushed the soap dispenser and a huge glob of green goo plopped onto her palm. A couple of yards above the dispenser, a cockroach shuffled across the stained wall. She grimaced.
“Gross!” Vivian shrieked. “This place is disgusting!”
“Obviously, hygiene isn’t on the top of the list here.” Smiling at her opaque metal reflection, Clarisse washed her hands. She shouldn’t be amused by Vivian’s distress.
“Well, I don’t know how you can smile. Two-bit towns, roach-infested bathrooms, bunking up in second rate hotels!”
“Let’s not forget the flat tire.” Clarisse dried her hands. A fly buzzed past, swirled above her head, and landed on her shoulder. She swatted it with the
“Sure. Just let me know if it gets too much.”
“Thanks.” She opened her book and hoped it would be more interesting than the last. An hour later, tired of reading, she put the paperback down and reclined along the back of the seat, careful not to brush her feet against Vivian’s dress. She closed her eyes, thinking a nap might shorten the trip by an hour or two. She was almost drifting asleep, not paying attention to the sporadic conversation up front, when she heard her name spoken in a hushed tone. Clarisse tensed, but kept her eyes closed and forced herself to breath naturally.
“I want to know why,” Vivian whispered. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
“It has nothing to do with her,” John muttered roughly. “I don’t want to get into this right now.”
In the back seat, Clarisse frowned, baffled at being the cause of an argument. Vivian couldn’t possibly be worrying about Clarisse’s past association with John, could she?
“That’s what you always say,” the redhead retorted in a whisper. “You always have some excuse not to talk about it. Well, I’m tired of it.”
“Damn it!”
Clarisse flinched at John’s harsh tone. What in the world were they quarreling about to get him so riled?
“If you think I’m going to talk about something so private with an audience,” he continued, “you’re mistaken. It can wait till tonight.”
“She’s asleep.”
“I don’t care.”
Clarisse felt Vivian’s glare drilling into her. An itch on her nose, faint at first, grew until it became unbearable. Her hands twitched with the effort of keeping them on her lap and not her nose.
Vivian swore savagely under her breath. “Coming on this lousy trip with you was a stupid mistake! Nothing’s working out.”
Clarisse discreetly scratched her nose.
John sighed. “Maybe if you tried enjoying yourself, instead of looking at everything negatively—you wouldn’t be having such a lousy trip.”
“Humph! Lousy’s putting it mildly!”
Clarisse rolled her eyes under her closed lids. An airplane flight across the United States and the sheer terror it involved was beginning to sound preferable to being imprisoned in a vehicle with these two.
Silence cloaked the Explorer until Vivian said, “I need to go to the rest room.”
Clarisse swallowed the laugh that bubbled forth and ended up coughing. The woman was unbelievable! Sitting up, she peered around John’s seat and caught his reflection in the rear view mirror. She could have sworn she saw the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile.
At the next rest area, Clarisse opened the door. Hot, moist air blasted her. The weather forecaster hadn’t lied about a heat wave. Favoring her right leg, she stepped outside and looked around. Only two other cars and a recreational vehicle shared the parking lot. The owners were probably traveling with family or friends, thoroughly enjoying themselves. The lucky devils.
She followed Vivian down the sidewalk. More hot air, this time rank and stale, hit her when she walked into the restroom. She stepped into an empty stall, covering her nose with one hand and taking shallow breathes.
She came out and found Vivian washing her hands. Clarisse pushed the soap dispenser and a huge glob of green goo plopped onto her palm. A couple of yards above the dispenser, a cockroach shuffled across the stained wall. She grimaced.
“Gross!” Vivian shrieked. “This place is disgusting!”
“Obviously, hygiene isn’t on the top of the list here.” Smiling at her opaque metal reflection, Clarisse washed her hands. She shouldn’t be amused by Vivian’s distress.
“Well, I don’t know how you can smile. Two-bit towns, roach-infested bathrooms, bunking up in second rate hotels!”
“Let’s not forget the flat tire.” Clarisse dried her hands. A fly buzzed past, swirled above her head, and landed on her shoulder. She swatted it with the
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