gotten a better outcome than we could have hoped for, but still I felt only a vague sense of indifference. The hardest part was still ahead, and there were so many ways we could fail. I should have been worried, maybe even desperate—but that way was blocked.
People think depression is the same as sadness, a blue gauze that descends to tint the world a shade darker. But in truth, it’s like a snowfall of ash, obscuring the color and the taste of everything.
Rodney pulled his rig up to the gates, and Higgins leaned forward.
“You got a card?” he asked.
Rodney frowned. “I’m a truck driver, man. We don’t have cards.”
“Oh.” Higgins rifled through his pockets, pulled out a crinkled receipt, and jotted something on the back. “That’s my cell. Be here tomorrow at . . .” He looked at my dad. “Nine? Jesus, that’s early. Okay, be here at nine. And bring some guys. I’m not loading that shit.”
Rodney said, “Not loading what shit?”
Higgins smiled. “I have an old Chevy pickup and a big Plexiglas tank that need to get to LA fast.”
CHAPTER 27
ELLA, ELLA, EH, EH, EH . . .
I awoke with the song playing on a loop in my mind. My head hurt, a dull, insomniac ache, despite the fact that I’d slept hard. For a moment, I wondered why I couldn’t feel the thrum of the RV’s diesel engine beneath me—and then I remembered where I was and what had happened last night. The headache and the song and the disorientation—they were all symptoms of a postshow crash. Or, in this case, a postgrift crash.
Shielding my eyes against the harsh desert sunlight blasting in through the window, I got up, stretched, and stepped into the cavernous shower. I let the scalding water pound down on me for as long as I could stand it, then dried off and dressed.
I found Dad in Higgins’s kitchen, sipping coffee and writing in his journal. He looked up as I walked in.
“Good morning!” he said. His cheer hurt my head.
“Morning.”
I poured myself a cup while Dad launched into a soliloquy about the flaw of the original Truck Drop, and how this new version was going to blow the original away. I tried to look commiserating—but he saw through it.
“You’re coming down,” he said.
“The meds will kick in soon.”
Dad reached for my hand. “You’ve done so much, Ellie. I’ll take it from here. And when we get that check, we’ll get you a refill.”
“On yours, too, okay?”
“Pharmaceuticals all around!”
He threw up his hands as if tossing confetti or pills into the air. I couldn’t help smiling.
“There she is,” he said.
A few minutes later, Dad and Higgins went out to clear a path to the old Chevy so Rodney’s crew could get to it. I stayed in the kitchen, sipping coffee I couldn’t taste, tracing the ring of steam it left on the countertop. I should have felt excited about the performance to come; it would be by far the most important of our lives. And while part of me insisted that my apathy was just my sickness rearing its head, another part knew for a fact that it wasn’t. That I deserved to be unhappy because of the people I’d damaged along the way. I’d used Liam, I’d nearly gotten Rico fired, and I’d said the worst possible things to Ripley. I pulled out my phone and stared at its cracked display. Ripley had never responded to my text. I unlocked the screen and typed out a new message.
I don’t blame you for ghosting me, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I’m sorry for what I said to you in Las Vegas. It wasn’t true. You didn’t desert anyone. You spend so much time taking care of everyone else—Jude, your dad, me—that you just needed to take care of yourself for once. They’re lucky to have you, Ripley. And so was I. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Like I wasn’t crazy. You saved my life, and for that, I’ll always be grateful. I love you.
I clicked Send and pocketed my phone.
Once everything was loaded into the semi, Rodney went inside to raid the fridge for a Pepsi, leaving Dad and me standing awkwardly at the gate with Higgins.
“Well,” Higgins said, squinting at the southern horizon, “you guys better get out of here before traffic starts to suck.”
“Thank you, Jif,” Dad said. “For everything.”
Higgins flapped a hand. “Don’t get mushy. I’ll see you guys in a couple of days.”