“I’m actually not hungry. I had a scone at work.”
With a quick nod, I pulled away from her place. “I picked a relatively easy trail, probably around moderate in difficulty.”
“That’s good since I have zero experience hiking other than walking on an incline on the treadmill.” As she scraped her hair back into a ponytail, the long red strands cascading down her back, she laughed at her own joke.
“Well, you live in Vermont now. It’s about time,” I told her.
“Agreed. I see you’ve selected something from the king for the ride.” She pointed at the stereo, where Elvis crooned “Love Me Tender” through the speakers. “You know, I think you may be a softie, Ben Rooney.”
I wanted to open up to her, to tell her about the apps, the extra income, and other recent developments, but my phone rang.
“Shit,” I said, glancing at the caller ID. “That’s Branson. Do you mind if I pick it up?”
“Of course not,” she said quickly, and I hit the take call button.
“Hey,” I said into the Bluetooth.
“Ben? It’s me. I’m sorry to bother you, but . . . but I—”
“What’s up, Brans? You okay?” We were only about ten minutes outside of Colebury when he called. We still had twenty or thirty minutes to the trailhead, so I kept driving.
“Well, I . . . I sort of . . .”
My heart started to beat a frantic pace at his stammering. Couldn’t be good news. “Are you okay? Your mom?”
“Yeah, yeah, Mom’s fine. It’s just, I got caught. Caught doing something.”
Before I could pull over and pick up the phone to give Branson some privacy, he launched into it.
“Beau asked me to take his ATV out past Grandma and Grandpa’s. Way out. He put it in the back of his dad’s pickup, and we drove all the way out there. He has his license, so it’s nothing like that. The police aren’t involved. But Beau picked an area marked private and said it was fine.”
I glanced over at Murphy. She was staring ahead, wringing her hands.
“No one is hurt?” That was my first thought about why he was calling me.
“No, we’re fine. But Dan, who owns the land, caught us. I’m sorry. Really. I told Beau we shouldn’t, but he said it was fine.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “And then called me a pussy. I can’t have people saying that because I take care of Mom. Ya know?”
“Following the rules doesn’t make you a pussy.”
“I know, but . . . Dan is here, and he made me call you. Well, he wanted me to call Mom, but she’s working a double, and I didn’t want to upset her. We didn’t do any damage, but Dan said he could’ve let the horses out and that would have been really bad.”
Branson finally took a long breath on the other end of the line, and I took one myself.
“Also, Beau left right after calling his dad, who was in the middle of ripping him a new one, so I’m stranded here.”
Oh. “I’m in the car but was headed a little farther away in the other direction. Let me turn around and come and get you. Can you ping me your location?”
“I’m sorry, Ben. Please don’t be mad. Please don’t call Grandma and Grandpa. Dan said he’s not going to tell them.”
“I’m not mad, but I am disappointed. We can discuss it later. Send me your location, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Okay, thanks. ’Bye,” he said and then disconnected the call.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Murphy while looking for a place to turn around.
“No reason, seriously.” She half turned in her seat.
“Do you mind coming with me? I’ll get Branson settled at home, and then maybe we can rent a movie or something?”
“Can we eat the snacks then?”
Like a crack of thunder, the tension broke inside me, and it felt so good.
“Absolutely,” I told her. “All the snacks, but I’m still not telling you what they are.”
“Fine,” she said, pretending to be mad as she crossed her arms in front of her for a few seconds. Then she fooled around with the stereo, finding some eighties station. “Maybe a little pop will make you feel better.”
More tension drained from me, and I felt lighter already.
24
Murphy
With Branson sulking in the back seat, we pulled out of Dan’s property after Ben shook his hand and made promises of a stern lecture and punishment. Ben was laser focused on something in front of him, but it wasn’t until I looked ahead that I saw what. A colossal black cloud was forming in the sky.
“Good thing we didn’t go hiking,” I said, trying to lighten the mood again.
“I don’t know. The storm seems to be moving north rather than south. But it’s right where we’re heading to cross back over and down to Colebury.” Bumping along the half-paved, half-gravel road, Ben eyed Branson in the back. “Dude, you’re lucky your mom isn’t the first to hear about this. She’d have a fit.”
Tugging on his hair that he wore a little shaggy like his uncle, Branson said, “I know. She’d be having a hissy fit that I’m just like my no-good father.”
“You know you’re not,” Ben said, his voice softening.
“She’d say everyone would be talking about how I’m like him. He’s gone, so how could I be like him? Maybe Mom should worry more about letting me be me, and less about my being like him.”
“I hear you on that,” Ben said, gripping the steering wheel.
This was probably why he wasn’t always so forthcoming about Brenna and Branson. I could practically feel the guilt and responsibility radiating off of Ben, and he shouldn’t feel either of those things.
“Whatever, let’s talk about it when she’s not here. You know, you look familiar to me?” Branson said, eyeing my back. I could feel his gaze drilling into me.
Ben had briefly introduced me as his friend Murphy when Branson got in the car. For a minute or two, I think he’d forgotten I was there,
