Page 58 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

“Did you have friends?” she shot back.

“Touché.”

“I had a good upbringing. The anxiety stuff, that had nothing to do with this.”

Except maybe it did in a way she didn’t know. Like a codependence with her dad that made it hard for her to branch out on her own. Like a more narrow social circle followed by the socialization expectations of college. It was a lot for a nervous system that wasn’t accustomed to it.

Then again, who the fuck was I to psychoanalyze her when I struggled to force myself to meet up with my family every few weeks?

“Did it get rank in here?”

“Rest stops have showers.”

“They… what now?”

“Yeah, they have showers. And truckers usually get to shower for free. It’s a perk that comes with buying fuel.”

“Public showering doesn’t sound appealing.”

“It’s not a bunch of people in one room. It’s like a shower at a gym. You get a little anteroom, then the shower room. I mean, I don’t know if I would do them alone, but my father used to go in, inspect things, then stand guard outside the door when I needed to shower. Have you never traveled before?”

“Not on a road trip, no.”

“Why not?”

“Constantly shouting at other cars when they cut you off or brake-check you doesn’t sound like a relaxing vacation to me.”

“But you would never see all the cool attractions if you fly everywhere.”

“Dunno if giant balls of yarn or a giant rocking chair are gonna knock my socks off.”

“When was the last time you took a vacation then?” she asked, buckling up as I set my phone in the holder before pulling out of the yard.

“Fuck. I dunno. Did a sort of work vacation thing in Jersey a few years back.”

“You can’t call Jersey a vacation.”

“Cape May? Atlantic City?”

“Did you go to either of those places?” she asked, her expression saying she already knew the answer to that one.

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t count.”

“Then I don’t really remember. I like the city. I don’t feel the need to escape the life I built. When’s the last time you left?”

“On this trip, when I first found out.”

“Before that?”

“I guess not this last Christmas, but the one before that. My dad doesn’t love coming into the city. And he didn’t have a place, so we rented rooms in this sweet little town in Vermont for the holiday.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was. Completely different than New York Christmas, but I think I prefer the city.”

“Why? It’s loud and crowded, and pickpocketing and credit card crime increases.”