Page 103 of Wayfarers

“See, imagine if I’d made that joke.”

“I know.”

“You’d have never let me live it down for the rest of this road trip.”

“For the rest of our lives.” She pauses. “That is, if you intend to stay in touch with me after this road trip.”

“You kidding?”

“No.”

“Of course I plan on staying in touch with you. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno, the evidence points to you not being the best about staying in touch with people.”

“Because I don’t have a phone?”

“The primary means for staying in touch at this point in human history, yes.”

“I’m not trying to make a statement. It’s just something I don’t have. But I’m going to fix that.”

“Joining the masses?”

“I think so.”

“That makes me sad, a little,” Sylvie says.

“Sylvie.”

“What?”

“You just said it made you not trust that I’d stay in touch.”

“I can hold both emotions at once.”

“I guess so. But yeah, I very strongly intend to stay in touch. Now, because you still haven’t answered me: Did I toss and turn?”

“No more than Winslow usually does.”

“That does not bring me comfort.”

“It was fine.”

“I tried to be very conscientious and a complete gentleman.”

“I could tell.”

“How?”

“You were really stiff.”

I look at her, aghast.

She dissolves in peals of giggles. “Not like that, you goof. I have no idea about that precisely because you were a perfect gentleman. I mean that you seemed very on edge and careful when you weren’t sleeping.”

I shake my head and crane to see if a bird sitting atop a utility pole is a red-tailed hawk. “Well, I tried.”

“How about me? Did I behave in my sleep?”