Bird said, “Do I hear a but?”
“Not a but. A so,” Godiva said.
Doris and Joey turned. Rigo stood, unsure whether to stay, move, speak or remain silent.
Godiva then said, “And so, it seems to me that it’s time for me to make a road trip.”
The conversation at the far end of the terrace stopped. Everyone turned Godiva’s way. Rigo could see the respect they held for her as they all waited for her to speak.
“Road trip?” That was Doris.
“Yep,” Godiva said, rising. “I’ve got a post office box to check.”
“A post office box? Can I give you a lift?” Doris asked.
Godiva’s quick grin flashed. “This one is just outside of Chicago.”
And Rigo heard himself say, “I’ll take you.”
He held his breath. He sensed the circle also holding their breaths—the entire world stilled for a breathless moment, then Godiva said, “You’re on.”
Chapter 9
GODIVA
Godiva surprised herself with that “You’re on.” Surprise—doubt—relief—curiosity. Each unraveled through her head like a ball of yarn, tangling into a mess.
Her first thought had been of the discomfort of all-night trips on the Greyhound bus, being woken at two and four in the morning for stops. Then she remembered that she had enough money to travel comfortably now, but the words escaped anyway.
She looked at him to see if he’d meant it, or . . .
A smile lightened his expression, like sunlight striking water.
She tested her response to that smile cautiously, a little like poking a sunburn. To test him a little, she slapped her hands on her thighs and said, “Well, then, let’s get cracking.”
Rigo shot a glance Joey Hu’s way.
Joey smiled. “Since we’ve agreed we’re in waiting mode, I think between the rest of us we can cover flyovers while we get started on the infiltration plan.”
Five minutes later, Rigo and Godiva sat again in the Phantom, the art deco-designed car that Rigo and Alejo had rebuilt. She covertly brushed her fingers over the old-fashioned armrest, wondering whose hands had put it there. This car was full of her son’s touch, as well as her . . . what should she call Rigo? Her ex-lover? One-time lover, she decided. That seemed neutral enough. And she shut the door on the hovering question: could it happen again?
“It’s about two thousand miles . . .” Rigo began as he started the car, which purred smoothly. Yes, he’d definitely upgraded the engine. Is that what he did on that ranch he’d mentioned? Godiva told herself there would be plenty of time ahead to find out.
“ . . . so call it thirty hours altogether,” Rigo finished.
She realized she had missed everything he’d said about routes and so forth. Which didn’t mean squat anyway. So she got to what mattered, testing him again. “Thirty hours not all at once, I hope. We’re not racing against a ticking bomb.”
He laughed. “Can I say I’m glad? Though Alejo would probably think it cool. He still helps Lance with the occasional Guardian missions.”
“I’ll want to hear more about this Guardian stuff,” Godiva said, aware that she was still testing him. “Especially if there are secret handshakes and codes. But right now, the practical stuff. Hotels or motels, I don’t care, as long as they’re clean. Separate rooms. I pay for myself.”
“Whatever you say,” he responded.
“And no complaining about frequent bathroom breaks along the road. If I gotta, I gotta,” she warned.
He stopped at a stop sign, and shot her a wry look. “Did I ever complain to you about anything?” he asked.
“That was years ago,” she shot back. “We’re two different people now.”