Page 50 of Stops Along the Way
She skips ahead faster, as soon as the song titles display on the screen. “I don’t want to listen to anything.”
“We could sit in silence.”
“That’s somehow worse.” But she gives up and lets the Olivia Rodrigo song we’ve landed on play out, letting out a groanas she turns to stare out the window. “I just want to be home already.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned.” I sigh and change lanes, glancing at the ETA on the GPS, which shows another eight hours and fifty-two minutes. The time change going back into Central will give us an hour back, but that will basically even out with having to get food and gas and brief sightseeing. “We’ll get there when we get there” slips out of my mouth before I can process that’s what Mom would always say whenever we complained on a road trip.
Amelia holds her phone up close to her face, reading through a zoomed-in message screen. “I know, but I want to get back tonight to see my friends.”
“That has to betonight?”
“Brielle’s family is leaving for vacation tomorrow, and she doesn’t get back until after I’m already in Europe, so, yeah, it kind of has to be tonight. I told them that I would be able to catch them after dinner.”
The check engine light flickers on the dash, and all I can do is sigh. “If we make it home.”
“What?” Amelia says.
Has it been on all morning and I’m only noticing it now? I really don’t want to deal with this. The car is running fine. Sometimes in the winter when it’s cold, random lights on the dash turn on and off and there’s never any problem.
“What do we do about this?” I ask.
“About what?” At least I have Amelia’s full attention now. She’s dropped her phone into her lap.
I’d sort of forgotten that I hadn’t voiced the situation out loud. “The freaking check engine light is on.”
She groans. “Really? Do you know what’s wrong?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s obvious.”
“What?”
I roll my eyes, annoyed she’s not picking up on my sarcasm. “Lee, the light went from off to on, and that’s literally all I know.”
My sister ignores my snark and jumps into action mode. “What color is it?”
I glance in the rearview mirror first, at a car speeding up behind us, before checking the dash again. “Orange—does that make a difference?”
“Should I call Dad?”
“What’s he going to do about it?” I ask, glancing down to the dash once more, hoping it’s gone away already.
We’re on a small highway, with only one lane going in each direction, a thick division of trees between, and a truly tragic amount of roadkill. The white SUV is directly ahead, and I’ve probably wondered about Declan glancing back at me more often than he actually has.
Amelia shakes her head. “I think we should ask Dad if—”
“Oh!” I shout, hit with genuine relief. The light has turned off. “It’s gone.”
“Gone?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Are you sure?”
“Lee…the light went from on to off.” I repeat the words but inverse the order, like a hacky stand-up bit. “I don’t know what to tell you. The light is no more.”
She takes a deep breath. “Should I call Mom and let her know, though?”
“I think we’re all good. We can call them if this happens again.” I relax into the driver’s seat and turn up the volume on Sabrina Carpenter.
