I was waiting on the bottom step of the apartment’s breezeway when Grant arrived in a sedan older than me, its front left panel powder blue while the rest was varying degrees of rust red. The engine rattled like a maraca, and though the light was dim I could see the upholstery sagging inside. Grant stepped out, hands in his pockets and eyes cast to the ground. I walked over and smiled.
“How do you find yourself this evening, m’lord?” I said, trying to defuse the tension, but he didn’t smile. He bit his lip and shuffled for a quiet moment before giving me an anxious look. “We don’t have to go,” he said. “We could walk somewhere.”
“Why would we do that?” I said, circling slowly to his side of the car.
“Because my car’s a piece of junk,” he said. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“She’ll make point five past light speed,” I said, patting the hood of his car and doing my best Han Solo impression. “She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts, kid.” I leaned up, kissed him softly on the lips, and grinned, arching an eyebrow. “I’ve made some … special modifications myself.”
He smiled a little, but something was obviously still on his mind. I was starting to lose hope when he said, “Okay, well, get in the car you stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder.”
“Who’s scruffy-lookin’?” I asked in mock indignation as I hopped into the car. The seat screeched and tilted as I sat in it, and I realized when I reached that there was no seat belt. Grant sat down and started the poor, limping engine and we headed out.
“Hey, wait,” he said, frowning. “How come you’re Han and I’m Leia? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
“You were pouting,” I said, matter-of-factly. “Han Solo doesn’t pout. You can have your Han privileges back when you cheer up. Can I ask what’s on your mind?”
“You can,” Grant said, scratching his temple and frowning again. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“That’s a surprise. Hopefully a good one.”
I swallowed dryly and gripped the door handle, my own anxiety building the farther I got from home. The car rattled even worse once it hit speed on the highway, to the point that I was afraid it was going to come apart.
“Sorry again about the other night,” I said, twisting a strand of hair.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t be so happy either if I had a daughter and found her in my house alone with a boy.”
“No,” I said, “I mean about pushing you too hard to talk about your family.”
“Oh,” Grant said. “That. I mean, I should be glad you want to know that kind of stuff. I should be really, really glad you’re interested in that. And I’m trying.”
He turned off the interstate onto a highway miles outside of town. The streetlights grew thinner and thinner until he eventually turned onto a dirt road and the only light remaining was his car’s one functioning headlight.
We pulled into a patch of gravel beside a brown double-wide trailer. A light came on above the trailer’s tiny latticed porch, revealing a pair of bony, tired-looking dogs chained near a garden where a dozen chickens hopped around angrily at the sudden disturbance before fleeing behind the trailer to escape the light.
Grant turned to me and grimaced a little. He let out a long, slow whistle. “This is my mom’s car. It was never in the shop. I just didn’t want you to see it, just like I didn’t want you to see where I live.” He took a deep breath and turned to me. “You sure you wanna come inside?”
I squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek. “I would love to meet your family.”
I followed him as he walked up to the porch, giving the chained-up dogs a wide berth. The screen door swung open and two girls hopped out, one with long black hair in overalls who couldn’t have been more than eight and a brown-haired girl in a tank top who looked a little older. They ran up to us, cackling happily.
“Is this her?” the older one asked.
“Yeah,” Grant said, kneeling to give both girls hugs.
“You’re really tall!” the younger one said, yanking on her hair and looking up at me with the same big, black eyes that stared out at me from Grant’s face. “How’d ya get so tall?”
“It kind of just happened,” I said with a shrug.
“Ignore her,” Grant said, smiling and tousling the girl’s hair. She screamed in delight and jumped away, grinning with a mouth missing a third of its teeth. “That’s my baby sister Avery.”
“Hi,” I said. She giggled again and ran inside. I saw the way Grant watched her, almost like a parent, and felt something soften in my chest.
“I’m Harper,” the older girl said. “Grant ain’t stopped talkin’ about ya for weeks.”
“I hope I don’t disappoint!” I said.
“Ya better not,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Anybody messes my brother around’ll get a ass whuppin’.”
“Jesus, Harper, get inside!” Grant said, pointing at the door and giving her a stern expression. She stuck her tongue out and followed her sister.
“Sorry,” he said to me with a sigh as his shoulders sagged. “We don’t have company a lot.”