She stares are me with that half-smile for a moment longer, probably waiting to see if I’ll elaborate. Then decides I won’t and sits up straight. “You were messing with me earlier, right? About never being in a Wal-Mart before?”
“I grew up in Denver, Ash. Not Beverly Hills. We shopped at the Wal-Mart every week.”
“Well, sometimes you’re so serious, it’s hard to tell when you’re joking. What are we getting, anyway? Snacks or something?”
“Yes, and baby things. I’m sick of looking at her stupid footied sleepers.” I open my door and get out and Ashleigh does the same, then unbuckles and grabs the carrier from the back seat. “And what’s the deal with that thing anyway? It’s such a pain in the ass to buckle that seat in every time we get back in the truck.”
“I have two at home, but I only brought one.”
She blows out a long breath of air and looks up at the sky as we walk towards the store entrance together. It’s snowing a little but it looks like the storm’s coming from the southeast this time, which means it’ll swirl around once the tail end hits the mountains and head east again, so we should be fine heading west. “Were you in a hurry when you left?” We grab a cart and she puts the carrier in the back this time.
“Sorta.”
And that’s all I get. Just sorta.
She heads over to the baby clothes, doing her best to ignore me.
“Are people missing you? I mean, you have family, right?”
“What’s with all the questions? I’m not prying into your personal problems.” She sorts through some baby clothes and then gravitates to the footied sleeper and starts flipping through the rack.
I look at the stuff nearest me. Car seats. “We should get another car seat. Then we won’t need to keep taking this one in and out.”
She stops looking through the clothes and stares at me.
“What?”
“What’s with this we stuff all of a sudden?”
Her words are like a slap. “Just thought you could use another one to make life easier, Ashleigh. Believe me, I’m not about to start playing daddy to your kid. So relax.”
She throws some sleepers in the cart and I grab a few other articles of clothing the same size that do not have built-in socks, and follow her over to the diapers. She puts two large packages on the bottom of the cart, and then wheels us into the next aisle where she grabs a few small toys, a bib, and some baby wipes. There is like a shitload of crap you can buy for babies and if I was the one shopping, I’d be stuck in this aisle forever trying to decide what to get.
“OK, I’m done,” she says in a curt manner.
“Are you mad?”
“No, I’m just done.” She turns the cart and begins walking up towards the front to check out.
“Done with me apparently.”
I get silence. And she stays that way as we check out. I grab a handful of snacks and drinks in the line, then pay for everything and we head out to the truck.
“I’ll pay you back for all this stuff, Ford. But thanks for taking care of it right now.”
“Do you have money?”
“Not on me, which is why I’ll have to pay you back.”
“Do you normally have money?”
“Wow, that was rude. Of course I have money. Do I look like some sort of homeless trash? I’m not, OK? I just needed to figure some stuff out and I couldn’t do it from home.”
“Where’s home? Texas?”
“No, I said I came from Texas. And I did. Because I had to see someone there before I could go to LA.”
“To see your ex?” I say as I unlock the truck and start piling things in.
“Just stop.” She grabs my arm and waits for me to turn and look at her. “Stop prying. I’m not talking about it. You have your problems and I have mine. Let’s just leave it at that.”
She puts the baby in the back and I get in and wait for her to finish. It’s snowing a little more now. “Hurry, we need to move west quick before this storm catches up with us and we get stuck somewhere else.”
She climbs in the backseat and closes the door. “I’m gonna sit back here in case she wakes up and needs to nurse.”
“We’ll have to pull over for that anyway, though, right? So why sit in back?” She doesn’t answer but I don’t need one either. She’s avoiding me. “I’ll try and drive through to Vegas, then we can stop there and rest.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I get back on the freeway but I was right. We just need to pull over a half hour later so she can nurse when the baby wakes up. There’s nothing out here in the way of services, but there’s a turn-out near the sign that says Welcome to Utah. I mess with the music playlist on my phone and try to pretend that her ignoring me isn’t an issue. But it is.
“You know,” I say once she’s settled with the feeding, “I’m not sure why you’re mad at me, but it’s childish. All I did was ask a question about who might be missing you. Believe me, Ashleigh, I’m not into prying into the personal lives of others. So you can stop worrying that I give a shit. OK? I don’t. It was f**king small talk.” I flip through Spotify on my phone and look for some music. “Who do you like to listen to? I’ll put something on so we don’t have to sit in silence.”
“Here,” she says with her hand out. “I’ll find something.”