I’ve always wanted to go to Japan, but the timing never worked out. I even wanted to go for our honeymoon, but Todd insisted on London because he had always dreamed of going to England.
Buoyant enthusiasm bubbles, and I feel like I can fly. I reach into my closet and pull out a suitcase. I throw in four days’ worth of clothes and some toiletries and shoes, then make sure I have some room so I can bring back souvenirs. Even though it’s only for three nights, I’m sure to find something supercool I have to have.
I zip up my bag, wanting to get going. I don’t know what time our flight’s leaving, but the traffic to LAX is atrocious. Not only that, it’s going to take hours to check in and clear security. If I forget something, I can just buy it in Tokyo. The city’s bound to have everything I could possibly need.
As I start dragging the suitcase out, I stop and run back into my room. My passport! That I can’t buy in Tokyo.
I snatch it out of the dresser next to my bed, stuff it into my purse and rush out the door. Griffin is waiting at the top of the stairs and takes my suitcase.
When we reach the living room, I start toward the table where I keep Bullet and G-Spot’s cage—which isn’t there. “Where did you put the hamsters? I can drop them off at Ellie’s.” She won’t mind taking care of them for a few days, for a cause as good as this.
“They’re with Heather. I left the cage with Dan, who said he’d give it to her.”
I let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you. You’ve thought of everything.”
“I’m efficient like that,” he says with a faint smile.
We go outside. I lock the house, then follow him as he puts my suitcase next to his in the trunk.
We settle into his Prius. “So. Do you take fake girlfriends on surprise trips overseas a lot?” As excited as I am, I’m curious about why he’s doing this, and what he expects from it. Maybe it’s a sign that he doesn’t want our relationship to be fake. Maybe he’s open to more? The possibility sends a happy zing through me.
“You’re my first fake girlfriend, so no,” he says.
“So you planned this because…?”
“I felt like it.” His gravelly tone says, What of it?
But he doesn’t fool me. He’s slightly uncomfortable talking about doing something nice for somebody, and with that something being acknowledged. It’s sort of sweet.
“Nobody else is going to do anything special for you—not your dad or Linda,” he adds.
“Well…yeah, that’s true. But you don’t have to.”
“Like I said, I felt like it.”
If I look at his expression, he seems mildly annoyed. But his words… Well. Maybe the key to understanding him is looking at his body language, tone and words all separately and figuring out what he truly means, which is the opposite of how you’d normally process communicating with someone. “I see. Well, that’s very sweet of you.”
“I don’t do sweet.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s still sweet.”
He shrugs. “I don’t mind impromptu trips.”
“Do you impromptu travel a lot?” I keep my voice light and teasing so it doesn’t feel like I’m probing.
“I used to. Whenever my mother felt restless.” His eyebrows pull together, like he’s reliving a horrific memory.
Why would traveling with his mom be so awful? “Did she get restless often?” It’s a more personal question than the superficial topics we’ve discussed since he moved in, but I feel more confident about broaching it, knowing he has some feelings for me.
“Often enough. It wasn’t as bad when school was in session.”
“She volunteered at school?” I smile. “My mom did too. Said it made her feel useful and happy.” She was one of the most involved parents in the area, and got antsy when she wasn’t doing something for the school.
“No. She couldn’t pull me out of school because she could never hire acceptable tutors in time. It was best for everyone that she never volunteered. It wasn’t expected, either.” He sounds annoyed and scandalized, like I suggested his mom dance naked at his high school reunion.
I just nod. For a guy who planned a special trip, he seems grouchy all of a sudden. I think back on what I said, but can’t figure out what could’ve triggered the gloomy mood. “This trip isn’t getting you in trouble or anything, right? You didn’t have to take off too many days or…?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t have any classes on Friday or Monday. The tricky schedule belonged to you.”