Page 47 of Here We Go Again

“Deal!”

“Maybe,” Joe adds.

“Throw that thing into the Grand Canyon and let’s roll!”

Rosemary takes a deep breath and holds the binder out in front of her. She turns toward the edge of the canyon.

“Whoa there!” Logan holds up both hands. “Throwing it into the Grand Canyon is a metaphor. This is a national park. You can’t litter. Just stick the binder under your seat or something.”

Joe hoots excitedly as they walk back to the van. Rosemary puts the binder under the passenger seat and Logan puts on her sunglasses with a smile. “Let’s go see some cool shit.”

They do see some cool shit.

Joe wants to see Mesa Verde National Park in Colorado, which is approximately a four-hour drive if they go straight there. But going straight there isn’t the plan.

With Logan behind the wheel as they leave the national park, they pull over three more times on the side of the road to take photos of the gorgeous sunrise, then drive north to Horseshoe Bend to see a U-shaped red rock in the middle of aquamarine water.

They start to head east, and Logan asks to stop at every roadside attraction, because who doesn’t want to see a giant stuffed buffalo? Rosemary agrees to most of the stops, and Logan buys her an iced coffee for her troubles.

They stop in the middle of nowhere to take a photo of real-lifetumbleweed. They stop on the side of the road so Odie can bark at some majestic horses. They stop at a van with a cardboard stand that says, “Authentic Fry Bread $5.”

Here, Rosemary protests. “We are not eating food served out of a sketchy van!”

“Trust me?” Logan pouts. In the sunlight, her hazel eyes look almost golden. She smiles, and Rosemary feels something lift in her chest. It’s the same sensation she gets when airplanes take off: her own body, defying the laws of gravity.

And she does, so they do. It’s the best fry bread she’s ever tasted.

LOGAN

Hale is smiling at her from the passenger seat. They’re basically crushing this whole friendship truce.

She rolls down the windows and watches Hale’s braid get whipped around in the wind. Odie then climbs on top of Hale so he can stick his head out the window. “No, you dumb dog!” she squeals. “We’re the same size! You can’t sit on me!”

But he does sit on her, and eventually Hale stops fighting it. She even gives him the chin scritches he likes best. For the rest of the drive to Mesa Verde, Logan blasts her Gay Shit playlist, and Joe belts out every song, his face turned happily toward the fresh air.

“Come on, Hale. Sing with us!”

“I don’t sing,” Hale snaps. But then she starts bouncing her feet inside their heels, and Logan swears she hears her hum a little bit of Elton John.

It’s dinnertime when they arrive in Cortez, Colorado, so they go straight to a hole-in-the-wall family Mexican restaurant with a small outdoor patio for Odie. It’s the kind of place where the burritos are huge, and the margaritas are even huger.

As soon as they walk in the door, the hostess sees Joe and greets him in Spanish. Joe responds fluently, and it dawns on Logan that even though they’ve been in the diverse Southwest for a few days, this is the first time they’ve been somewhere that isn’t predominantly white. Joe probably noticed this days ago. Hale, too.

Joe and the hostess chat amiably as she slowly guides them to the patio. As she sets down their menus, Logan catches the wordmargaritabeing tossed around in conversation.

Logan wants to order the biggest margarita to celebrate a successful day of detours, but she pauses when she notices Hale cautiously fingering the menu. She leans across the table so the waitress won’t overhear. “Does it bother you?” she whispers. “When people drink alcohol around you?”

Hale looks perplexed by the question.

“I was going to order a marg, but I can abstain if that’s easier for you,” she clarifies. “Sober solidarity.”

Hale’s eyes go wide. “No one has ever asked me that before. But, uh, no. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Perfect! Then I’m getting the Muy Grande margarita. On the rocks, please.”

Joe holds up two fingers to indicate he wants the same thing.

“It does bother me when Joe drinks.” Hale raises her voice. “Because he knows it’s against doctor’s orders. It doesn’t mix well with his meds!”