freeway, and I let myself doze off.
Dozing turned to actually sleeping, and when I woke up I realized I’d missed most of Wisconsin. We pulled onto the shoulder and put the top up since it was actually getting hot, and then continued on. I put on some classic rock, which was what I’d been raised on, and which Torie had said she and her dad listened to in their garage.
She shot me a look when “Paint it Black” was the first song on queue. “Are you playing classic rock for me?”
I laughed. “Yes I am. Growing up, it was what pretty much everyone listened to. Zeppelin, the Stones, ZZ Top, Pink Floyd, The Who. The only local radio station we got was a classic rock station, so my truck was just tuned it all the time, and so was everyone else’s.”
She grinned, drumming a beat on the steering wheel. “Jillie and Leighton make fun of me for liking classic rock. Like, could you be any more of a typical stoner? But it’s just…comfortable. Familiar for me. Dad loved it and he used to be in a classic rock band, back in the day.”
The taut, weighty silence was broken and our natural conversational flow returned, a wide-ranging discussion of classic rock bands, rating them, talking about individual players, guitar styles, and that conversation took us into Minnesota. We stopped in Minneapolis for dinner, and the conversation wandered into random rabbit trails of endless, easy talk.
As we left the diner, I shot a look at her. “You wanna switch, keep driving, or call it a night here in Minneapolis?”
She leaned her butt against the hood, considering. “Honestly, I’m not tired at all. That nap was like power fuel or something. I’m good to keep going, if you are.”
“Sounds good to me. Let me know when you get sleepy.”
“I will.”
Onward, then. Silences alternated with conversation and we played a game with the songs on queue, trying to pick the next song based on ever-changing criteria—number one hit that same year, or bands that ended up sharing a member, or words that appeared in both song titles, until we’d covered almost all of classic rock and moved into southern rock and country.
By the time we reached North Dakota I could tell she was getting tired, but I figured I’d wait for her to call it.
I was about to suggest a switch, but then she seemed to get a second wind, perking up, finding new energy that took us through half of North Dakota before we had to stop and pee and refuel. She let me take over, then, well past midnight. We’d agreed to keep going until we were both too tired to drive anymore. We both got coffees and snacks and, somehow, despite the seemingly endless hours and miles, we always had something else to talk about.
We reached the border at Raymond, Montana, and drove over to Regway, Saskatchewan where we talked to the Canadian border agent. We answered a few questions and crossed without issue, but not before Torie got her first stamp in her passport. And just for fun I got one, too. I’d driven up to New Brunswick a few times to get car parts, but I’d never got a stamp in my passport, so it was fun to share a first with Torie.
Despite the coffee, Torie eventually fell asleep, leaving me to the music and the miles and my thoughts.
I was glad we’d kept going. I knew we were putting off the inevitable, but neither of us wanted to address the elephant in the Jeep.
About six a.m., I started yawning uncontrollably, and I needed to stretch my legs and get some air, so I pulled over on the side of the deserted highway just before dawn—when the sky wasn’t quite gray, but not quite light. It was cool, with a sweet smell to the air. The land was very flat where we were, just beyond Regina, a stand of trees here and there, but mostly flat farmland.
I tried to open the door quietly, but Torie stirred and woke up, smiling sleepily at me—the smile that got my heart every time. It was a smile that said she was just so happy to see me, even though she’d been right next to me in that passenger seat for hours at this point. It just got me, that sleepy little grin.
She got out of the car and stretched, up onto her toes, arms overhead, shirt lifting to bare her belly and