It helped that Michael’s truck was so big. And his tires were so mean looking.
He rolled the window down and placed his hand on the window’s ledge while he lined up to his target.
Because he had it backed up to Hannah’s Jeep in no time, and was bailing out before I could ask him if he needed me to do anything.
I was studying the horses across the street when Michael’s voice yelled for me.
“Nikki!”
I stuck my head out the window and turned around until I could see him.
“Yeah?” I asked curiously.
Hannah and Michael were standing close, both of them looking at me.
Michael’s was teasing, and Hannah’s look was calculating.
She was sizing me up.
I waved to him, and she cracked a smile.
“He told me to stay in the truck so I didn’t spread my pukey cooties to you!” I informed her.
Hannah smiled.
“Appreciate that. If I catch it, it’ll mean Reggie will catch it!” She thanked me.
“Are y’all done?” Michael snapped impatiently.
I blinked, but wisely kept my mouth shut.
But I did nod my head.
“Good,” he muttered. “Now get into the driver’s seat and back it up a little more.”
I saluted him, and he narrowed his eyes at me.
Scrambling over the seat, I scooted the seat up to where I could reach the pedals easily, and backed the truck up.
Promptly saturating them both with mud.
I slapped my hand over my mouth.
“I’m sorry!” I yelled.
Michael didn’t laugh, but Hannah did.
Great guffaws that had her doubled over in hilarity.
“Do you want to pull yourself out?” He growled to his sister.
She shook her head and stood up, but she still had streaks running down her face where the tears from her laughing washed the mud away.
“Jeez,” she said, walking to her Jeep’s door. “You’re no fun.”
“That’s right, I’m not.”
I raised my brow at him, but he couldn’t see me because he was busy attaching the chain he’d produced from his toolbox to both vehicles.
I contemplated Michael’s sudden change in demeanor.
He’d done that quite a few times in the month I’d really been spending time with him.
Three instances where all of a sudden his mood would just snap from one extreme to the other.
Going from really happy, to pissed off at the slightest thing in a matter of seconds.
Quite frankly, it was fascinating to witness.
Not that I’d tell him that I found his disease fascinating.
I’d learned to roll with it, though.
I had sisters.
Enough said.
Also, it was easier not to call attention to it and act like nothing was wrong.
That was the fastest way to get him back on track, and I knew he was grateful that I didn’t heckle him about it.
“Alright, Hannah. I want you to give it some gas when you start to feel the tug on the chain, okay?” He confirmed.
She nodded, and he started to the driver’s side door, so I moved before he could ask me to.
I was in my seat when he opened the door, and I had to look the other way so he wouldn’t see the smile on my face.
“I know you’re laughing at me,” he growled.
“I’m not laughing,” I lied.
He snorted and threw it into drive.
The tightening of the chain sounded, and both of them started giving it gas.
Then, all of a sudden, Michael stopped.
“She’s going forward,” he said, covering his face with his hands. “Please tell me she’s not. Because I’ll be embarrassed to call her my sister.”
I hopped out of the truck, and my white tennis shoes immediately sank into the mud.
It came all the way up to my lower calves, but I got out to circumvent the argument I knew was about to ensue.
“Hannah!” I whispered loudly.
She turned and let off the gas.
“Backwards!” I whispered again.
Her eyes widened, and then she covered her mouth with her hand. “Shit!”
With pink cheeks, she pushed it up into reverse and started to go backwards.