Something Nice

“Cooler?”

“Check.”

“Music?”

“Check.”

“Snacks?”

“What?”

“Do we have snacks?”

“Yeah. Check.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

My sister and I planned this road trip six months ago. That’s a commitment you can’t raincheck, so I grin and navigate like Sacagawea.

“What do you want to listen to?”

“Whatever.”

With the music of the mid-2000s now playing, I’m transported back to when boys didn’t matter, and monogamy was subtly preached to ten-year-old me. Thanks, Disney. Now, I sit on my hands, never wishing I engaged with feminist literature. I like to think life would have been easier believing in the sanctity of marriage. There are only two of us, me and my sister. So my parents don’t have the best odds of becoming grandparents. I can’t mess up. They can’t adopt grandchildren. It’s just me, my sister, ten pounds of extra snacks sponsored by our mother, and the road. 

On top of that pressure, one of us just lost her best chance yet.

“Can you get me a Coke?”

I reach for the backseat and face forward again with the desired drink in hand. I’m happy to serve. Any distraction is welcome.

“Thanks.” She pauses. What will she say next? She’s never been any good with silence. “So how are things?”

Oof. Focus on work. “Things are fine. Work has been kind of slow lately. I hope it picks up soon. And you?”

“It’s been a bit crazy. Like the other day. Bus dismissal was a shit show. They called all the kids too early, so we’re all standing outside. One of my kids starts crying. It’s a mess. I hate summer school, but the hours are short. I get paid well, and it ends in two weeks. But it’s a mess.”

Is that it? I was hoping she would stall longer.

“And then I have to write this science curriculum on top of everything else.”

Whew.

“We’re almost done with it, but it’s taking longer to finish than we wanted. So now I have even more to do, and grad school starts next week. And I’m not going to be using this curriculum. There’s just a lot going on.”

Oh no. That sounds like she’s wrapping up. Not even ten minutes into this trip, and we’ve already covered work. I’m domed. Love is up next. I’m not ready.

“And then Nick.”

I hate to wish ill-will on my sister’s relationship. However, I hope they’re going through a rough patch because we need more material to work with.

“He’s working such long hours. He’s always tired, doesn’t want to do anything with me. He still hasn’t said ‘I love you.’ I get that he’s tired, but I’m tired too. Yet I’m still trying.”

Ask her a question. Get more out of her. “Have you asked him why he hasn’t said it yet?”

“No. But he sucks at communicating.”

Matthew did too.

“He’d probably just get mad that I asked.”

But I sucked too. I just assumed we were okay.

“But the pets are getting along now.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

I daydreamed plans for him and me to take a road trip to Minnesota. My aunt has a place up there we could’ve borrowed for a week or even a weekend. It would have been so nice. Nature. Cabins. Sunshine.

“So how are you and Matthew?”

We could’ve made pancakes every morning.

“Matthew?”

Do I tell the truth? I can’t ruin this trip.

“Matthew’s good. Working a lot too.”

“Yeah, it sucks, doesn’t it?”

Maybe she’ll get the hint if I don’t respond.

“When did you see him last?”

Damn. She remembered that one time I mentioned that I’d like to see him more often.

“Maybe two weeks ago.” But we conferenced via phone last week.

“Really? That’s a long time.”

I know. “He just works a lot.” I already said that. Idea: only repeat the things I’ve already said. That way, I don’t have to generate more lies. Reduce, reuse, recycle.

“Do you want to see him more?”

“Yeah.” But I can’t. And he doesn’t. I don’t want to be labeled one of the crazy ones.

“So once we get back home, you can plan a big, beautiful date!”

That would be lovely.

“Get a new outfit.”

I never wore anything too special for him.

“Maybe some lingerie.”

He didn’t even notice the last piece, took it off too quickly.

“You could go for dinner and drinks.”

Although that date idea is overused, I’d huff and puff through a marathon to get dinner and drinks with him again.

“Maybe a late-night walk.”

Arm in arm. Looking at the stars. This fantasy is starting to sting.

“Oh, I heard that the new place downtown is pretty good!”

And now we have a destination. I can’t make that reservation. Dinner for one can be empowering but not in my state.

“It could be a treat for all the long hours he’s working.”

That isn’t the problem.

“Something nice, nothing crazy.”

I want something nice again.

“We can plan it all now.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

It was only a matter of time before my mouth got ahead of my filter. “Well,” I start, searching for a fib. “I don’t like using my phone in the car. It makes me nauseous.”

“Okay, then we can do it later.”

“No, I can just plan it once we’re home. I don’t want to spoil our sister time!” How noticeable was my fake excitement?

“But I think it would be fun. Cute. It wouldn’t take long.”

“We broke up.”

“What?”

“Matthew and I broke up. He ended things maybe five days ago.” It was definitely five days ago.

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

“That just gives us one more reason to party,” my sister offers. “Oh, this is my song!”

The radio’s volume is doubled, and my sister starts singing. Not well, but she’s selling it. I look out the car window. I swear the trees are greener. The sun is brighter. The roads are clearer. So I join her and sing along.