Page 44 of Calling a Cease-Fire

She scoffed and climbed in, placing her bag on the floor of the backseat.

I hopped up into the driver’s seat, plugged my iPhone into the Jeep and brought up the GPS. “Where to?”

“Florence. Thankfully she’s safe at the police station.” She finished pulling her hair into a ponytail and then reached out her hand to me. “Here, I’ll put it in.”

I handed her my phone and drove the Jeep out of her parking lot.

After a minute, she set my phone down in the center console and pushed back into her seat with a huff. “I’m starting to think my mom is the reason I have no interest in serious relationships.”

I chuckled. “Afraid the same situations will happen to you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe her broken bad-guy radar is hereditary.”

“Nah. You picked me, remember? And I’m awesome.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I did not pick you.”

“Sure you did. You just don’t realize it yet.”

She rolled her eyes. “More like I can’t get rid of you.”

“Eh,” I teased. “Potato, potahto.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

We drove in silence for the next few minutes, until my curiosity finally got the best of me. “So, what’s the story?”

She sighed, something deep and exhausted. “The story is my mom thinks if she kisses enough frogs, one of them is bound to be a prince.”

I grinned. “And that’s nothing like what you do?”

I could feel her glare without even looking. “No. I’m well aware they’re all frogs and I have no interest in finding a prince.”

“Ok. So what did this latest frog do?”

“Talked her into going to Myrtle Beach for the weekend, and then when they stopped for a bathroom break, he took off with her car and purse. Luckily, she had her phone in her back pocket.”

“So she called the police?”

“Ha,” she said with a cynical laugh. “No, actually. She called me and asked what she should do. I had to convince her to call the police so she could report her car stolen. But it took me forever to get through to her. She was trying to convince herself he was coming back for her.”

“Love can make people blind to the truth.”

“Yup. And that’s exactly why I want nothing to do with that shit.”

“But with the right person, it can also be amazing. Look at all of our friends. Does it not make you want what they have?”

“No. Because I know it can all change at the drop of a hat. To hear my mom tell it, my parents were head over heels in love. But my dad still walked away.”

I flinched, knowing I couldn’t argue that point. Nothing was ever promised in life. “Can I ask what happened?”

She shrugged. “My mom doesn’t like to talk about it. But from what she has told me, he had mental health issues. Sounds like bipolar to me, but according to my mom, he was never diagnosed.” She shifted in the seat, folding one leg underneath her. “Sometimes I catch myself wondering if I should try to find him. But would knowing he’s alive and fine and just wants nothing to do with me be worse than not knowing at all?”

“I can’t be sure, but I think I’d want to know.”

That must have been the wrong response, because she angled her face away from me and got quiet. After a moment, she reached over and turned up the radio, signaling she was done talking.

The song “Call Me Maybe” came on, and I couldn’t stifle my grin. It was secretly one of my favorites. Three lines in, I had her fighting a smile as I sang along to it in my usual goofy fashion.