He Bet I'd Still Drive Them to the Airport, So I Did novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Borrowed Suitcase

Shelby borrows Althea's good suitcase, Jo helps Althea cancel everything on her own card, and Padraig says Travis took nine thousand off the joint account.

Shelby came by at nine on Friday morning with a lemon loaf and a request.

"Travis said your big suitcase is the only one that doesn't look like a trash bag," she said. "Can I borrow it? Please say yes."

I stood in my own doorway holding the loaf, which was still warm.

She had baked it for me.

Shelby had always been like that.

When I had my first round of tests, she sat in the car outside the clinic and waited, because she said I shouldn't have to walk out alone.

I had thought that was friendship.

"It's in the hall closet," I said. "Top shelf."

"You're an angel."

She dragged the suitcase down and ran her hand over the handle, and I noticed she did not ask whether the airline allowed that size.

She already knew it did.

"Are you sure about all this?" she asked. "I keep thinking you'll wake up and hate me."

"I would never hate you for a trip," I said.

That was true.

I hated her for something else, and I was still working out the size of it.

She hugged me again, and I let my arms go around her back and counted to three.

Then I closed the door behind her and called my sister.

Jo had worked a double and was due to be asleep.

She picked up on the second ring anyway.

"If you're calling about yesterday's appointment, I've been awake since five waiting for you to text me," she said.

"Jo."

"What?"

"Come over. Please. And bring the laptop charger."

She arrived in twenty minutes with her hospital clogs on the wrong feet and her hair standing up.

I sat her down at the kitchen table and put the clinic envelope in front of her first.

She read it, and her eyes filled, and she laughed and cried at once.

Then I told her about the patio door.

She did not interrupt.

When I finished, she stood up, walked to the sink, ran the water for no reason and shut it off.

"I'm going to kill him," she said.

"No."

"Fine. I'm going to kill her."

"Also no. I'm going to drive them to the airport."

Jo turned around slowly.

"I'm sorry, you're what?"

"I took the bet," I said. "Five hundred, in cash, at the curb."

Her mouth opened.

"Althea," she said, "he gave away your seat, and you are going to chauffeur the happy couple."

"He thinks I will," I said. "He's told Shelby for years that I always do."

I slid my laptop across the table and showed her the booking.

I had paid extra for refundable fares and a hotel that let you cancel up to two days before.

I had done it because of my appointments, because I never knew which Saturday a doctor would want to see me.

I had not known it would save me.

"The money goes back on my card," I said. "Both tickets. Both rooms."

Jo read the screen with her chin on her hand.

Then she looked at the word Honeymoon for a long time.

"He's marrying her," she said quietly. "Somebody put that there on purpose."

"I know."

"And you're still going to let them walk up to the check-in counter."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he's never once been told no in front of anyone," I said. "And I want a line of strangers behind him when he is."

Jo reached over and took the laptop.

"Okay," she said. "I'm doing the cancelling. You're too nice to click that button."

We made the call together, with the phone on speaker between the lemon loaf and the fruit bowl.

A woman from the airline asked if I wanted to cancel the full itinerary, and I said yes, and she said the refund would reach my card in five to seven days.

Jo made her read the confirmation number back twice.

When it was done, the page said Cancelled in gray letters.

I felt better than I had in two years, and I did not trust it.

At noon Jo fell asleep on my couch with Biscuit stretched across her feet.

I stood in the kitchen with my hand flat on my stomach, not pressing, just resting it there.

There was a knock at the front door, two slow raps.

It was Padraig, Travis's older brother, with a ladder over one shoulder.

He lives above his own workshop, drives a gray truck he parks crooked, and says about ten words in a family dinner.

"I'm returning this," he said. "Travis borrowed it in the spring."

"You could have left it in the garage."

"I know."

He leaned it against the railing and did not leave.

He looked at the lemon loaf through the window, then at my face.

"You look like you haven't slept," he said.

"I'm fine."

"Okay."

He turned to go, then turned back, and I saw him decide something.

"I don't get involved in what my brother does," Padraig said. "I want you to know that's a rule, not a choice."

"Okay," I said, confused.

"Yesterday afternoon he took nine thousand dollars off the joint credit card," Padraig said. "Cash advance. He asked me to hold the envelope while he did it."

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