Page 80 of No Funny Business

“Whoa, whoa. He was a stand-up too?”

“Crazy, right?”

“You look like him,” Nick says, smiling. “Same nose. Same smile.”

“Yeah, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” I say.

“Where’s The Hoot?”

I shake my head, taking my dad’s keepsakes back. “I don’t know. He never told me about any of this stuff. But I think he must’ve left it for me to find. Anyway, I was thinking instead of staying in Dallas, maybe we can drive to my hometown. Maybe I can get some answers there.”

“Where’s your hometown?” Nick reaches for his cigarettes again but then drops them like they’re on fire.

“Midland. It’s on the way to El Paso. About four hours away.”

“Four hours?” Nick vetoes the idea with his tone. “I don’t know, Olivia. I think it’s really cool that you shared that with me and I’d love to help you out, but I can’t drive another mile. I’m sorry.”

“Well, then, let me drive. It’s a straight shot on the highway. You can sleep and I’ll get us a place to stay.” If he doesn’t hand over the keys to this Jeep, I might just have to hijack it. “Please, Nick. I swear I’ll be a perfect angel with your Jeep. You said you would help me land The Late Night Show and I think this will help. I know it will. Please,” I beg.

He shakes his head and I’m sure he’s going to say, No, capeesh? But he clenches his jaw and says, “All right.”

“Really? I can?” I cheer and he nods. “Does that mean I command the radio too?”

“Don’t push it.”

—

It’s a miracle I don’t get a ticket. After four hours, passing a slew of stinky cow farms along the way, we arrive in Midland about forty-five minutes ahead of schedule. Nick’s passed out cold with his sunglasses barely hanging on his face, looking like Bernie. From Weekend at Bernie’s. Not our agent. I pull off the highway, braking at a red light.

Nick startles himself awake. “Oh my god, I had a nightmare I let you drive the Jeep.”

I glance over at him and give a flat, “Hardy-har-har.”

“Bring me my brown pants,” he jokes, then takes a swig from his water bottle and sits upright. “So this is your hometown, huh?”

“Yep.” Driving around the loop feels familiar and foreign all at the same time. Finally, after two years and four hours, I pull up to my destination. My mouth’s bone-dry, heart pounding in my chest. I’ve had the entire trip to mentally prepare for this moment but I don’t know if I’m really ready. Will I ever be ready?

Nick peeks out the windshield and reads the garage sign. “Midland Auto.”

“It’s my dad’s auto repair shop. Well, it wasn’t technically his but he was such a longtime, dedicated worker, it might as well have been.”

Nick sets a gentle hand on mine, nearly distracting me from my mission. “Want me to come with you?”

As much as I’m loving his support, I can’t bring him inside. I’ll get grilled for sure. “It’s probably best you wait here. I won’t be long.” I inhale that hot, dusty Midland air, then step out of the Jeep. Nick does the same.

“Hey, Olivia,” he calls. “Good luck.”

I smile and raise a pair of crossed fingers. Inside, the garage looks exactly the same—like being in a time warp. All of the techs either have their heads under hoods or bodies beneath engines.

Oh, there he is. The one I came to see.

The man lifts his head out from under a hood and wipes his wrench with a greasy, dull red shop towel. His black hair is sprinkled with more salt and pepper and his face has filled in some since the last time we met. But he’s still my Uncle Artie.

“Hey, Tío!” I call.

His eyes are awestruck, like he’s seen a ghost. “Mija? Is that you?”

No one’s called me that in ages. I guess I really am home. And it’s okay. “Yeah, it’s me.”