Page 28 of Here We Go Again

“This”—Rosemary pokes a finger at the windshield—“is why we don’t do detours!”

“Come on, Hale,” Logan says through a mouthful of doublecheeseburger. “We don’t know that we would’ve avoided this traffic if we didn’t stop.”

Logan has both bare feet dangling out the passenger window and a McDonald’s bag in her lap. Rosemary tries to set that bag on fire with her eyes. McDonald’s added another twelve minutes to their drive, on top of the detour and the precious time lost in this traffic. Still, she is grateful for the planned stop in La Grande. At least it means she’s behind the wheel again. She didn’t enjoy handing control over to Logan for two hours.

Rosemary tries to take another set of deep breaths—four in total, holding each one in for four seconds, like her therapist always insists—but she immediately chokes on a rancid odor.

“Does it smell like skunk in here?”

Logan stops feeding Odysseus french fries and takes a big whiff. “Uh, I don’t think that’s skunk….”

“I don’t smell anything,” Joe says from the back seat, and Rosemary hears him exhale heavily. The rancid scent intensifies.

She turns around. “Joe! Are you smoking weed?”

“No.” Joe exhales again and smoke fills the back seat.

“Joe!” she shrieks. “You cannot smoke weed!”

“Of course I can.” He draws the joint back to his mouth demonstratively. “See?”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“It’s legal,” he says with a shrug.

“But it won’t be when we get to Idaho!”

“Honey, we aren’t getting to Idaho anytime soon. Besides, I have a prescription.”

“That won’t assuage the cops if we get pulled over and they find you getting lit in the back seat!”

“No one sayslitanymore,” Logan contributes to this ongoing disaster.

Joe pouts. “Rosemary, are you really going to deny a dying man his sole comfort?”

“Yes!” she shouts, perhaps louder than necessary. Odysseus barks in response. Logan gives him another fry. “Is it even safe to smoke in a confined space with Odysseus?”

“Of course,” Joe says. He reaches over and pops open the back window. “Probably.”

“If she’s going to keep squawking, I’m going to need a hit too.”

Logan swivels toward Joe with an outstretched hand, and Rosemary quickly smacks it away. “Absolutely not! You have to be able to drive! We still have another four hours, at least!”

Logan rubs her hand as if Rosemary injured her. “Fine.” Then, to Joe: “I’ll smoke a joint with you when we get to the hotel.”

“No, you won’t! No one is smoking weed on this road trip! This is a drug-free trip!”

“I have an entire duffle bag of controlled substances,” Joe points out.

“That’s different.” Her teeth are starting to hurt again. “Those are for your pain management.”

Joe twirls the joint between his fingers like a baton. “So is this. I hate to disappoint you, Rosie dear, but this isn’t someTuesdays with Morrieshit. I’m not some noble old man who’s going to share the meaning of life with you as he dies.” Joe lifts the joint to his lips again. “I’m not dying to help you solve some problem in your life. I’m just going to die. And I would like to be high while that happens.”

“But—”

“Why are you going full Nancy Reagan over a tiny amount of legal,medicinalweed?” Logan asks in the most condescending way possible.

“B-because,” Rosemary flusters. She can sense both Joe with his weed and Logan with her fries staring at her.