honest with you.”
Omar pivoted to me. “Now is a good time to start.”
“Heath Candle was… my father. My name is Tucker Candle.”
Omar’s hand shot out to the door latch.
“No no no! Wait, please!” I tried to reach over and grab his hand, but he swatted me away. We were doing seventy on I-35. Did he think he’d just step out of the car and onto the shoulder?
“You are a liar and a cheat, and I do not know why I trusted you at all. Let me out of this car immediately.”
His eyes were full of fury. He breathed in and out of flared nostrils, waiting for me to answer.
“Just hear me out.”
“No! Pull this car over.”
I slowed and took the next exit off the highway toward a truck stop emporium complex, the kind with the sign out front stretching a hundred feet in the air and a parking lot big enough to accommodate a shopping mall. Omar kept his hand on the door latch the entire time, face scrunched in anger.
I slowed at the edge of the giant lot. “Please listen to me.”
Before I’d come to a complete stop, he fled the car and ran toward the building. Panic seized me. The last thing I needed was for him to make a scene inside somewhere in a big group of people.
I dashed after him, pleading for him to wait, but he seemed determined to go inside. Was he going to call the cops? Start screaming for help? If I had to tackle him, that wouldn’t look too good.
He opened the front door, and I followed him into a gas station so spacious it was like a small grocery store. A diner to the left, a lounge area to the right, groceries and souvenirs in the middle. Omar went straight back along an aisle full of chips and dips.
“Please, stop,” I said, in a loud whisper, keeping my head low.
He spun to face me but kept backing away. “I do not know you. I do not trust you. I should never have come, and now you’ve given away my car. My car ! How did I let this happen?”
A man in a camouflage trucker hat peered at us over the next aisle.
“Yes, Heath was my father, but I haven’t had anything to do with him in twenty years. He’s no family to me. Whatever he was doing, and whatever his relationship with your brother, I didn’t know anything about that.”
Omar kept backtracking, and he bumped into a rack of Texas-shaped air fresheners. A hundred of the little things bobbled on the ends of their strings. “Why should I believe you? Why should I put my trust in you?”
A young couple near the end of the aisle sneaked glances at us while they were chatting.
“Please,” I said, “can we go outside and discuss this? I can explain everything if you give me a chance.”
“No.”
“What do I have to do to prove it to you?”
The camouflage man rounded the aisle. He was a burly guy with a perfectly rounded gut and a white ring the size of a Skoal can marking the front pocket of his jeans. “Is this guy bothering you?” he said to Omar.
Omar stared at me, considering the question. One word from him and the whole thing came tumbling down. I should have told him straight out who I was, but that didn’t matter now.
“We’re fine,” I said.
The man kept his eyes on Omar, waiting for an answer. “Sir, is that true?”
Omar didn’t respond. He brushed past me and out the store.
I tried to smile at the man. “Moody friends, you know?”
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I spun on my heels to race after Omar. When I got outside, he was nowhere in sight. I peered at the collection of gasoline pumps, then rounded the side of the bathrooms. No Omar.
I went back to the store and sat on the edge of the curb, my brain flicking through options. Then my eye happened to catch a reflection of light in the distance, as Omar got into the car. He was going to leave me here.
The keys.
I jumped up and sighed in relief when I felt the keys in my pocket. I ran back to the car and slid into the driver’s seat, huffing and puffing.
We sat in silence for a few seconds.
“I need to be able to be certain you
Omar pivoted to me. “Now is a good time to start.”
“Heath Candle was… my father. My name is Tucker Candle.”
Omar’s hand shot out to the door latch.
“No no no! Wait, please!” I tried to reach over and grab his hand, but he swatted me away. We were doing seventy on I-35. Did he think he’d just step out of the car and onto the shoulder?
“You are a liar and a cheat, and I do not know why I trusted you at all. Let me out of this car immediately.”
His eyes were full of fury. He breathed in and out of flared nostrils, waiting for me to answer.
“Just hear me out.”
“No! Pull this car over.”
I slowed and took the next exit off the highway toward a truck stop emporium complex, the kind with the sign out front stretching a hundred feet in the air and a parking lot big enough to accommodate a shopping mall. Omar kept his hand on the door latch the entire time, face scrunched in anger.
I slowed at the edge of the giant lot. “Please listen to me.”
Before I’d come to a complete stop, he fled the car and ran toward the building. Panic seized me. The last thing I needed was for him to make a scene inside somewhere in a big group of people.
I dashed after him, pleading for him to wait, but he seemed determined to go inside. Was he going to call the cops? Start screaming for help? If I had to tackle him, that wouldn’t look too good.
He opened the front door, and I followed him into a gas station so spacious it was like a small grocery store. A diner to the left, a lounge area to the right, groceries and souvenirs in the middle. Omar went straight back along an aisle full of chips and dips.
“Please, stop,” I said, in a loud whisper, keeping my head low.
He spun to face me but kept backing away. “I do not know you. I do not trust you. I should never have come, and now you’ve given away my car. My car ! How did I let this happen?”
A man in a camouflage trucker hat peered at us over the next aisle.
“Yes, Heath was my father, but I haven’t had anything to do with him in twenty years. He’s no family to me. Whatever he was doing, and whatever his relationship with your brother, I didn’t know anything about that.”
Omar kept backtracking, and he bumped into a rack of Texas-shaped air fresheners. A hundred of the little things bobbled on the ends of their strings. “Why should I believe you? Why should I put my trust in you?”
A young couple near the end of the aisle sneaked glances at us while they were chatting.
“Please,” I said, “can we go outside and discuss this? I can explain everything if you give me a chance.”
“No.”
“What do I have to do to prove it to you?”
The camouflage man rounded the aisle. He was a burly guy with a perfectly rounded gut and a white ring the size of a Skoal can marking the front pocket of his jeans. “Is this guy bothering you?” he said to Omar.
Omar stared at me, considering the question. One word from him and the whole thing came tumbling down. I should have told him straight out who I was, but that didn’t matter now.
“We’re fine,” I said.
The man kept his eyes on Omar, waiting for an answer. “Sir, is that true?”
Omar didn’t respond. He brushed past me and out the store.
I tried to smile at the man. “Moody friends, you know?”
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I spun on my heels to race after Omar. When I got outside, he was nowhere in sight. I peered at the collection of gasoline pumps, then rounded the side of the bathrooms. No Omar.
I went back to the store and sat on the edge of the curb, my brain flicking through options. Then my eye happened to catch a reflection of light in the distance, as Omar got into the car. He was going to leave me here.
The keys.
I jumped up and sighed in relief when I felt the keys in my pocket. I ran back to the car and slid into the driver’s seat, huffing and puffing.
We sat in silence for a few seconds.
“I need to be able to be certain you
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