Page 108 of Detour

“What can I get you?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Ang. You’re a lot of things but naïve isn’t one of them. You know what I want.”

I relax my hold on the counter to lean forward on a heavy sigh.

“What happened to your other car?”

She waves a hand. “This is a loaner from a…friend.” I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what kind of friends Rianne keeps. “Just until I can get mine back. That’s why I’m here. I thought you should help with that.”

Dropping my head back, I stare at the ceiling, filling my lungs to the hilt. “And why should I help with that?” I pop up, meeting eyes that match my own in color but not in substance. “You somehow got a car that you couldn’t afford and I’m supposed to pay the bill? I don’t think so.” Maybe her friend should just let her keep this one, it fits her better anyway.

The bumper hanging off the front reminds me of the fake façade my mother puts up but has been slipping more and more lately, showing the true ruin lurking beneath. The rust spots are like the holes in her armor she’s spent so long using against both the world and me. Whiny clangs from the engine speak of an exhaustion her soul carries from never measuring up to society’s standards.

“Where are your guard dogs? I’m surprised they let you out of their sight after threatening my life.” I stifle another eye roll. “What? Did they give up on your Ice Queen act already, seeing you for the total nuisance you really are?”

Before I can respond, smoke begins to billow out from under the hood of her car.

“Shit!” Gripping both sides of the window, I jump out feet first and land on the blistering asphalt next to the driver’s door. I immediately reach through her open window to turn the keys, effectively shutting off the engine. My mother, frozen from either shock or embarrassment, starts to cry.

I quickly turn away, pulling out my phone. Coty talks me through a few simple steps to open the hood, then promises to handle the rest when he gets here.

With a swipe across my forehead, I see her shaking develop into a rolling boil and stop short. Car trouble is nothing new in Rianne’s life, having driven many lemons between boy-toys, but I’ve never seen her react like this. This is more. More than a crappy car overheating on a summer day. This is something else entirely. My heart squeezes as I push forward with a shaky façade of my own.

Even though she was just being a wretched bitch, she’s still blocking the only path for actual customers and I need her to leave as soon as possible—for everybody’s sake.

“Hey, it’s not that big of a deal. This summer’s been hard on everyone.” I nudge her shoulder, then drop my hand unsure what else to do with it before blurting, “I’m thirsty.”

Happy to have something to occupy my hands, I pour us frozen hot chocolates with whipped cream, making sure to put extra on mine. I inspect the drinks, then add more to hers.

Out back, I find her sitting in the shade. She accepts the frosty drink with a trembling hand. She doesn’t so much as thank me as I continue to stand, taking her in. Her smudged eyes have dark circles under them and her hair is matted in places I didn’t notice before. Her clothes are wrinkled and one of her flip-flops is being held together with a piece of duct tape. It’s a far cry from her usual put together self. The Rianne I know would never be out in public looking like the hot mess I see before me.

Squinting, I focus on a passing car. “You doing okay?” I grimace at my warbled voice before turning back to her.

Her tired eyes meet mine as she swallows noisily. “Like you care.”

“I may not like you, but I don’t wish harm on you. You’ve been blaming me for your life going to shit for years but I think it’s time you take a look in the mirror. Kelsie chose to live with her dad for a reason. And that reason sure as hell wasn’t me, no matter what you say. Blaming an innocent child born from an undesirable circumstance for your fuck-ups is just shitty. Stealing anything good from your own flesh and blood is even worse. Take some responsibility already.”

Her attention flits past my shoulder as I hear a few engines pull up but I don’t need see to know who it is. My real family just arrived. The one I chose.

“Did they teach you to talk like that?”

My body relaxes the moment I see the boys dismount their bikes. I called one yet they all came running—for me. Warmth that has nothing to do with the blazing sun settles deep in my bones. It glides through my body, spreading calm as it goes, quieting the constant nag in the back of my head wondering if I’m enough, if I deserve them. It’s amazing what love and care can do to a person, to an open wound left abandoned and exposed. Their consideration helped soothe the pain caused by others even when they didn’t have to. Even when they shouldn’t have. When they had every reason to walk away, they refused to give up and I’m forever grateful. When you’re told you’re not loveable enough, you start to believe it. They’ve shown me what it feels like to be loved. That’s not what my mother provided me. That wasn’t love. Love isn’t used as a weapon. It’s a gift one should offer freely and receive with humility.

After years of living with the reason for them, my carefully constructed walls came crumbling down for the boys just next door. Go figure.

“They taught me a lot actually. Mostly about family and what it means to love, not just yourself but others.” I bend down to her level. “They taught me what it’s like to be loved, too, something I’ve never felt before. Not from friends, not from a father or sister, not even from my own mom.” She, of all people, should understand what that feels like.

Her eyes fill with unshed tears as she looks away. I straighten then turn to the guys, catching Coty’s hand as he reaches for me. Three sets of tight eyes greet me but I usher them toward something they’re more equipped to take on.

Beckett and Marc slowly walk to the front of the car while Coty pulls me against his chest, speaking low in my ear.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t like it.”

I peek over his shoulder to see her wiping roughly at her eyes, knocking over her drink in the process.