She scrunched her nose. “I guess I could do that if I had to.”
When I loaded my bike in the back of her truck, I grabbed my iPad from my saddle bag and brought it into the cab with me. I held it up for her to see. “Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure, as long as it isn’t a horror movie.”
“No horror. Noted,” I said and scrolled through the options. “How about this one? I think there are five total, so we could essentially have a movie marathon while we wait this out.”
She smiled. “Works for me.”
“Have you seen any of these movies before?”
“No. I wanted to but never got around to it. You?”
“Nope. They’re new to me too.”
After the first movie, she went to the back of the truck to get some more food while I stepped out to take a piss. Several inches of snow had accumulated on the ground, and it was still steadily coming down.
She climbed back into the truck carrying a grocery bag of items. “Do you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
“I’d love one.”
“It’s actually jam, not jelly,” she pointed out.
“That’s fine. I’m not picky.”
“I kind of am. At least about this. I think jelly is gross, but jam’s cool.”
I laughed. “I’m not sure I knew there was a difference.”
“There definitely is,” she said seriously.
When I took a bite of the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich I’d ever had, I thought she might be right about the jam.
We were well into the second movie when her head started to droop. She raised it quickly, then yawned.
“I hope you’re not trying to stay awake on my account.”
"Are we allowed to go to sleep?" she asked.
"Why wouldn't we be?"
"Because we're in the middle of the highway. How will we know when traffic starts moving again?"
"If we're not already awake, one of us will hear engines cranking and horns honking."
"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep."
Before I could ask why, my phone rang. I looked at the screen and cringed. Both of my mothers were expecting me to call or text when I got home.
“Hey, Mom. I know I haven’t called, but in my defense, I’m not home yet,” I said without giving her a chance to speak.
“Please tell me you aren’t one of the ones stuck in that mess on the highway,” she said, her voice full of worry.
“Sorry, Mom, but before you freak out, I’m inside the cab of a truck. I’m warm and dry.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed and then inhaled sharply. “Are you safe? Does he look like a serial killer? Can he hear me?”
I shook my head and laughed while I put my phone on speaker. “It doesn’t matter if she can hear you or not. She’s gonna know what you asked when I answer. Yes, I’m safe. No, she doesn’t look like a serial killer, and I’m not sure. Aspen, can you hear my overprotective mother?”