Finding X

Chapter Three

We were in the car twenty minutes later, Connie at the wheel of her of tiny blue convertible, me sitting in the passenger’s seat, twiddling my thumbs and trying to look like I was enjoying myself, and Ryan, my thirteen year-old brother in the back, looking utterly horrified at the fact that he had to join us on a girl’s shopping trip.

            I had spilled my plan to him and asked him to come along as a distraction while I got Max’s present. At first he was all like, “Gaah! A girl’s shopping trip? No thanks.”

            “Come on, Ryan. For me?” I had had my wallet hidden behind my back just for precautions. When he shook his head firmly, I’d jiggled it. The sound of the jingling change perked his ears up like a dog hearing a squirrel. I pulled out a five dollar bill and then waved it in front of his nose. He practically drooled. But then he crossed his arms resolutely over his chest.

            “Ten.”

            I wasn’t ready to just throw away ten bucks. I had money saved just in case Connie’s hardheadedness doubled during our trip and I couldn’t waste it by giving it all to Ryan. “Six.”

            We settled on eight dollars. He was a hard bargainer. I reluctantly put the money in his grubby hands. He held it tightly, as if it might jump out of his grip and run away.

            “Now come on,” I’d said. “Get ready to go.”

As I left his room, he'd moaned, “I’m too young to die!”       

            “You got the money, didn’t you?” I’d practically snarled. “Now remember, I need you to distract Connie. But don’t be too obvious about it. And don’t say a word. Understand?”

            He mock-saluted me. “You have my word. Or not,” he grinned.

            Now we were in the car, driving to Target. My large purple, sequin-ey tote was at my side. It was stuffed with all my money, plus Max’s two hundred. All three of us were completely silent. I could hear my breathing, fast and raspy. And nervous, because I was about to start prying.

            “So-uh, Connie?”       

            “Hum?” she asked, eyes glued to the road. She was a very responsible driver. But she knew it and she often took that fact to her advantage. Say I’m telling her something she doesn’t like. She’ll say something like this:

            “I’m really sorry, Stacey, but I can’t listen right now. I’m way too busy driving.”

            And I would be all like, “Ha-ha. Right.”

            I was expecting this charade now as I started to pry. I didn’t like what I had to do. But it was a priority, because I was thinking, if Max is buying her a present, should she buy him one, you know, just to be sure this problem gets completely patched up. Besides, Max might feel bad if she didn’t. But how would I get Connie to agree to that?

            “You feel like talking?” I didn’t have to elaborate. She knew what I meant. She inhaled loud and long and looked through her rearview mirror at Ryan, who was thumb wrestling himself, if that was even possible. When she didn’t answer, I pressed harder.

            “What you were saying in the kitchen, about not doing Valentine’s Day? That’s a bunch of nonsense and you know it.”

            Once again, she looked in the mirror at Ryan. He stopped murdering his thumbs and was watching us through his small, Harry Potter-like glasses.

            “Later,” Connie mouthed. It was a good start. At least she was willing to talk. But I couldn’t wait until later. I needed her to buy Max a present now. Valentine’s Day was tomorrow.

            “Want some music?” I said and turned on the radio. Muffled classic rock blared from the speakers. I didn’t even try to find a good station because the static well covered our conversation from the perking little ears of my brother.

            I lowered my voice and leaned close to Connie. “I think you’ve got to patch this up. I know Max is your husband but you know what? You’re the wife and I think we both know that when you compare male brains to female brains, we win, one hundred percent. So, in a matter of speaking, you’re the superior one here. Hence, I think you should make the first move.” (I wasn’t going to tell her that Max had already gotten her something.) “Why don’t you buy him a Valentine’s Day present?” I concluded and leaned back, thinking my argument was pretty dang good.

            Connie’s jaw was clenched. But then she relaxed and she slumped in the seat. “I don’t feel like talking right now, Stacey.”

            “Connie . . .” I said, a whine I didn’t like sneaking into my voice.

            She cut me off, saying, “Can we just not talk right now? I’m really busy driving.”

            What did I tell you?

            “Uh-huh,” I said, humoring her.

            “Let’s just try to have fun on this trip, okay?” she said loudly so Ryan could hear too. She ran a hand over her front and exaggerated-concentrated on the road, squinting her eyes and biting her lip.

            Ryan snorted in the back seat.

            Well, this was the reason I brought extra money. Just in case Connie was extra stubborn today, I had an entire plan worked out in my head. Like algebra, I thought, smiling faintly to myself. Connie needed to buy a present for Max? No problem. I’d buy it for her. Without her knowing.