“You think your mom’ll mind if the first thing I do when we get there is take a shower?” I was almost giddy with the thought.
Rusty laughed. “She might wanna say hi first.”
“I know that.” I smacked his bare thigh before I thought about it, and he raised an eyebrow, which I chose to ignore. Then the lightness drained from me almost in an instant when I thought about seeing her and having to face the inevitable conversation about Finn. I looked over at Rusty, afraid to ask. “Does she know? About him?”
His jaw tightened when he nodded. “Yeah—” He glanced over at me, then back at the road. “She’s the one who told me.” I opened my mouth to ask where she’d heard, or how, or why she’d been the one to tell him, but I didn’t get a chance to pick out the right question before Rusty slowed the Pala and turned us onto an unmarked dirt road. “House is out here a little ways,” he said. “Might wanna put your clothes on. Bru’ll probably be there.”
“Bru?”
Rusty leaned forward on the wheel. “Her boyfriend. It’s his house.”
“Boyfriend?” There were turning out to be all kinds of things I had no idea about. I looked over at Rusty through the dusky light, trying to add it all up, but he didn’t look like he was going to help me out. “How long have they been together?” I asked.
“I don’t know. A while.”
“Well . . . do you like him?”
“He’s all right.”
We bumped over the dirt, kicking up dust that glowed peachy in the headlights. I watched Rusty carefully, thinking he had to have been here more than a few times to find the road we were on. Maybe I’d been wrong this whole time, thinking that he and his mom didn’t talk or that he was still angry and hurt over her leaving.
“What’s he like?” I asked, trying to figure out how he felt about this boyfriend of his mom’s.
“I don’t know. Like a crusty old mountain guy who’s dating my mom.”
There, at least, was a sort-of answer. Which only brought up more questions in my mind. “Is he a good guy?” I asked. “I mean . . . is he good to her?”
He looked over at me quick, then put his eyes back on the road, which was now climbing a steep hillside. “Better’n my dad. If that’s what you mean.”
I hadn’t really meant it that way, but the simple truth of his answer and the fact that he said it out loud shocked me quiet. I never knew his parents real well, but I knew about them. Or . . . knew what went around the town rumor mill about them. Nobody was surprised when she up and left. What did surprise people, though, was that she left Rusty behind with his dad’s booze-fueled temper and his tendency to take it out on whoever was closest.
I could remember being little, seeing his parents in the bleachers at elementary school football games. I’d always watch the pairs of moms and dads, wondering what mine would’ve been doing if they’d been there. His parents were the one couple I tried not to watch because his dad was always angry about something, and I felt sorry for his mom. She seemed too delicate and fragile to handle his loud, quick temper. I saw him grab her arm more than once, in a way that made me scared of him and angry at the same time. I could only imagine what it would’ve been like to be Rusty as a little kid. Or a grown one, for that matter.
All at once, I wanted to be gentle with him. “I didn’t mean anything like that,” I said softly. “I just wondered what you thought of him.”
“I know,” Rusty answered. “It’s fine.”
And I knew, from the shift in his tone, he was about to change the subject. He didn’t have to, though, because just then we rounded a curve that ended in a narrow dirt driveway. At the end of it was a house that looked like it had clung to the side of the mountain for years. Once again, I was speechless. But this time, it was because of the view.
Far below, the sparkling lights of Sedona spread out like stars on the valley floor, distant and quiet. And above us, in the moonless purple sky, the real stars felt closer than they’d ever been, like I could reach right up, pluck one from the night, and tuck it in my pocket. It was the kind of sky Finn would’ve loved. Almost in answer to my thought, a delicate trail of white light streaked low over the horizon.
“You see that?” I asked Rusty.
He nodded. “Make a wish.”
Had he said it to me a few hours earlier, I might’ve wished myself back home or wished that the envelope that contained Finn’s letter hadn’t been his last. But right then, I felt grateful we’d made it this far and that Rusty was with me. So I wished us all the way to Kyra Kelley.
Neither of us spoke. We just sat there a moment, and relief and exhaustion settled over me. A cool, fragile breeze drifted in the windows, carrying with it the rich, dry smells of the desert. The night outside lay so utterly peaceful, I wanted to sink into it and float off with the scent of the pines. I glanced over at Rusty, who seemed to feel the same way, judging by the way he leaned back against the seat, taking in the night sky.
He felt me looking and gave a half smile. “You ready?” When I nodded, he put the car back in gear and we rolled quietly down the driveway. Rusty pulled in next to a mudsplattered jeep and cut the engine. The Pala seemed to shudder with relief as soon as he did, and everything stood still and quiet until the front door of the house opened up, spilling out orange light and the small, unmistakable frame of Celia.