The Bottom of the Sea

Part 16: Road Trip

"I can carry my own suitcases."

Jake took them from me and put them in the back of the SUV. "I know, so can I," he said, coming around to the passenger side and opening the door for me. I climbed in and put on my seatbelt. The job still had me rattled and I still wasn't sure I'd made the right decision.

"You don't have to drive me, you know. I can make my way there," I said.

He turned on the car, sighed and put his head down on the steering wheel in exasperation. "For the love of God, will you let me do this one thing for you? It's not weakness to accept a bit of help."

I know that, I thought, folding my arms. But maybe Jake was right. It was only a lift to the bus station, after all.

"OK, sure. I appreciate the lift."

"Great," he said. "Tunes?"

"What?"

"What tunes do you want? Do you like rock? Pop? Hip hop?"

"I don't care," I said, puzzled. It wasn't a long enough drive to get through one whole song, but whatever.

"Hip hop it is," he said, backing the car out and heading towards the downtown. He called up a Kendrick Lamar playlist, and I was happy with the choice. He got to the bottom of the steep road and then turned left instead of right.

"Bus stop is that way," I said, pointing as he made the wrong turn.

"I have to pick up a few things first," he said. He looked at me like I was crazy, and I returned the look.

"Can't you wait until you drop me off?" His little detour was costing me minutes.

"In Montreal?" he said, looking as confused as I felt.

"Wait a minute. When you said, 'let me drive you,' you meant all the way to Montreal?"

"Well, yeah. You don't want to take the bus alone in your condition. You pass out and barf at the drop of a hat, remember?"

"But what about the paper?"

"I'm the boss, remember? I make the rules. I'm giving myself a few days off." He turned up the stereo and rapped along, badly. I shook my head.

"You can't just take a few days off when you run a paper. You're crazy. You know that, right?"

"Nope, just always up for a road trip." Every time I thought I had this guy figured out, he threw me a curveball.

"Butt warmer?" he asked.

"Please," I said, still thinking. I had to admit, I liked the idea of driving in comfort all the way to Montreal instead of being jostled around on a crowded bus. I relaxed into the leather seat.

"It'll take about 12 hours to get there," he said. "We'll break the drive up over two days so it's not too hard on you. I'll book us into a hotel to sleep along the way; separate rooms of course."

"Why are you doing all this?" I turned to him.

"Because ever since you got to town, you couldn't catch a break. You tried to put down roots and got chased out of your house and your job — the latter thanks to me. The least I can do is help get you get set up in your new city. You don't seem to have a lot of support around you, or people in your life you can rely on."

He was right about that. I nodded, blinking away tears at the unexpected kindness. "Thank you," I said quietly. I was done arguing. For the sake of the baby, I decided I was going to accept every hand extended to me and not worry about the consequences or what it meant.