Deep End

By the time Bridget and Adam return from breakfast, Kris and Skylar have packed their bags and have them sitting next to the door, prepared for a quick exit. They make small talk – how was breakfast, how long they should drive between bathroom breaks – as they return the room keys and settle themselves into their respective vehicles. Kris hops into the driver’s seat while Skylar is still rounding the front of the car and breathes a secret sigh of relief. One more encounter down.

They’ve been on the road less than a minute before Skylar pulls of her shoes and curls her legs up onto the seat. Two minutes in, she’s tapping her fingers to an imaginary beat on the armrest. Three minutes in, she’s lurching forward to fiddle with the radio.

“Do you ever sit still?” Kris asks, but he actually finds it kind of endearing. She shrugs, hand still flicking through stations.

“I’m always moving.” She tells him, “Come on, radio game.”

“Radio game?”

“You ask a question and then hit scan. Whatever song it stops on is supposed to be the answer to the question. So, like...How does Kris Letang feel about me?” she grins, hits scan and waits. The numbers run by and flick to a stop.

‘If I said I want your body now, would you hold it against me’

It’s just a song, just a game, but Kris’ face goes beet red and Skylar dissolves into a fit of laughter in the passenger seat. He thinks that it’s the thing he likes most about her – thus far anyway, there is still so much to learn – her uninhibited nature. She isn’t afraid to curl herself into a ball and fan her hot face with her hand while she shakes in silent laughter, her nose scrunched up. Bridget would have giggled, maybe laughed a little, but she would have been far too reserved to let herself go in the way Skylar does.

“Okay, you go. Redeem yourself.” She says when she has enough breath back to speak. He puts his hand on the dial and turns to her, raising a brow.

“How does Skylar...oh, god, I don’t even know your last name.” He chuckles.

“Wilder. Skylar Wilder.”

“Alright, how does Skylar Wilder feel about me?” she raises her brow back at him and he hits scan, turning it over to the radio gods.

‘You make me feel like a natural woman’

Her cheeks turn a light tinge of pink and he laughs, smacking an open palm on the steering wheel.

“Okay, fine, we’re even. We’re both sexy little freaks who want each other’s bodies.” She throws her hands up in the air like she’s giving in to an impossible situation.

They play a little while longer, until they hit a dead patch somewhere in the middle of the middle of nowhere and the only station they can pick up plays elevator music for hours.

“So...” she trails off, “Are we there yet?” and she grins like a kid in a candy store.

“No, whiny child, we are not.”

“Are we going to have to spend another night in a hotel?”

“Probably, why?” he glances at her.

“Because if we are, I would like to put forth the idea that we figure out where we’re going to stop now, so we can call ahead and book rooms – that’s rooms plural – to avoid anymore unfortunate late night mishaps.” He points with one hand to the glove box.

“There is a map in there. Help me figure out where we’re going to be at night fall, we will call a hotel.”

He watches out of the corner of his eye while she unfolds the map and tries with varying degrees of success to find a way to lay it out in her lap, then half in her lap and half on the dash, then all on the dash. It ends up back in her lap, mostly unfolded.

It’s endearing the way she follows the road with her finger, biting her bottom lip as she bends over the map. He likes that she asks for his input, how far he’ll want to drive, before she narrows down their options for overnight lodging.

She calls 411 and scrambles to write the numbers of several hotels on a receipt she pulls out of the glove box.

“Okay,” she says when she hangs up with 411, “We’ve got a Red Roof Inn, a Super 8, a Marriott Express and a Motel 6. Any preferences?”

“Motel 6 is sketchy.” He says, “I saw a 20/20 special, where they bring in those black lights to check for fluids and it was scaring. We cannot stay there.”

“Ew!” she crosses Motel 6 off the list and wrinkles her nose, “Red Roof Inn, it is.” Kris listens to her make the call and notes with interest that she books two rooms with Queen beds.

“Done.” She says with a smile. “No more group bunk parties.”

“But, we are still bunking in the same bed?” he says it cautiously, a little like a question.

“Oh, that.” It’s the first time he’s ever seen her flush, “I just figured, it would be weird if they found out we were staying in a room with two beds. Like, if the concierge said something when we checked in, or they came by to raid our mini-fridge or something, what would they say if our room had two beds?”

“Oh, right. Good thinking.” He tells himself he’s not disappointed that her reasons were entirely practical and not at all about spending another night in the same bed.

Her reasons were entirely practical, she tells herself. Just the way she explained it to him, nothing more than that. She doesn’t dare admit to him or even to herself that it might be a little less practical and a little more about wanting to wake up with her ankles locked in his again.

There is a moment of tense silence, broken by the ringing of her phone. She glances down at it, then starts to lift it to her ear.

“I should get this.” She tells him before answering the call, “Hey Ollie, what’s up?” he pretends he’s not listening intently. Ollie sounds like a man’s name.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” She is saying, holding her hand up in the universal symbol for stop as though the person on the other end of the phone can see her, “Calm down, I can’t understand what you’re saying. Ollie. Ollie. Ollie! Take a breath, then take another and then talk to me.” She shakes her head at Kris and points at the phone, like she’s sharing an inside joke with him.

“Oh my god.” Her hand covers her mouth, “You what?” she gasps.

“You hit him?” That gets Kris’ attention, “Like, ran him over? Right over?” Now Kris is really paying attention. He’s also a little surprised that she’s not more freaked out that her friend – friend? Boyfriend? – ran someone over.

“Jesus Ollie, Eva is going to kill you! I mean seriously, Ollie, Bapou? You hit Bapou?” she pushes her hair back from her face, “Is she there? Does she know? No? Okay, okay, good.” She’s nodding along and Kris is still freaking out.

“Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go outside and you’re going to clean it up.” She sounds entirely too calm and Kris nearly swerves off the road he jerks to the right so hard when he swivels to look at her. She grabs onto the dash and turns to look at him, putting her hand over the phone.

“You okay?” she asks, like he’s the one with the issue.

“Are you!?” he returns. She cocks her head in confusion at his tone, then widens her eyes and points to her phone.

“This? Oh no, not what it sounds like! Just let me-” she cuts off and returns to her conversation with Ollie.

“Did you clean up all the pieces? Okay, take them to Jake’s, see if he can glue them back together.” Now Kris is really confused.

“No, Ollie, you can’t hide it from Eva! She’s going to know Bapou is broken, but at least if he’s mostly put back together when you tell her, she might not strangle you on sight.” Okay, so Bapou isn’t a person, Kris gets that much. It makes him feel a lot better.

“Okay, call me later and tell me how it goes.” She smiles when she hangs up and turns to Kris. Before she can get a word out, she starts laughing again.

“It’s not funny.” He cries, “I thought your – that guy killed ran someone over! That’s not funny.” But she’s laughing so hard she actually snorts and then he can’t help but join in.

“It’s a little funny.” She says breathlessly, “Ollie’s a friend from home. He’s kind of like that weird cousin you have that you secretly love, but pretend you’re not related to. My neighbour Eva has this collection of garden gnomes that are basically her children. Bapou is like...the leader of the tribe. Ollie ran him over this morning.” Skylar notices the way Kris cuts off after 'your' and instead says 'that guy'. So she makes it a point to put a little extra emphasis on the word friend. Kris is glad when they have to slow to a stop because of traffic, because he’s laughing so hard his eyes are getting squinty.

“It’s not funny!” she cries, “Eva loves Bapou, she’ll be devastated!” she punches him in the arm.

“I’m sorry.” He says through his laughter, “You’re right, it’s not funny. Bapou’s death is tragic.”

“I appreciate your effort to say that with a straight face.”