Everyone is quiet as Brandon merges onto the freeway, heading toward the I-5, northbound to Portland.
I keep turning around, looking at my little sister. She watches the mountains in the distance. Won't even acknowledge Brandon's presence.
I've only ever seen Nova like this around Ken. When she had naturally trained herself to avoid his bad moods so he wouldn't yell at her.
Brandon keeps his eyes on the road but I can tell a piece of him is broken by how scared Nova is of him now. He wants to make it better but doesn't know how. I'm not sure I do, either.
After another bout of uncomfortable silence, Brandon says, "Hey Oog. Can I tell you something?" She gives a soft nod. "I don't like when I have to get scary like that. I like to be goofy and fun. And I want you to know I didn't mean to scare you. Sometimes I get scared too so I try to be scary back."
"I was also scared," I say, jumping in. "But Brandon had to put on an act. Kinda like how Jack pretended to be Sandy Claws. Jack wasn't really Santa but he pretended to be something he wasn't so he could deliver presents in Santa's place. He was trying to do good but his idea of Christmas ended up scaring everyone. Remember, bug?"
"Yeah, Jack made bad pwesents," Nova says. "Like the one with a snake!"
"Exactly," I say. "He didn't know the Christmas Town citizens wouldn't like them."
Brandon chuckles, granting me a brief look. "I guess I could stand to learn a few lessons from Jack Skellington."
"I think we all can," I reply, wrapping my arm around his free one.
"Do you forgive me, Oog?" Brandon asks. "I can't promise that I won't be scary like that again if I have to be, but I want you to know that I will always protect you and sissy. And I will never yell or be scary like that with you. Okay?"
"Okay!" Nova calls back, picking up her frog toy and squeezing it until it croaks.
"Thank God," Brandon says, blowing out air. "I never thought I'd care this much about a four-year-old's opinion of me."
I wrap myself tighter around his arm. "She tends to have that effect on me as well."
Two hours fly by and Nova can't stop commenting on the snow, the trees, the moody purple sky. At one point, Brandon rolls down her window so she can stick her hand out and feel the slapping cold air. She whinnies at the speed of the car, at the thunderous sound of the wind coming in through the window.
Eventually we need a fuel break. Brandon pulls into one of the lesser crowded gas stations right before Portland.
"Can I get candy?" Nova asks, grabbing my hand.
"You've had enough sugar for the day," I say, recalling her very syrupy breakfast. "Maybe tomorrow."
"Aw, but I wanna Laffy," she whines.
I put on my best parental tone. "Not today, bug."
She isn't happy with my response but stops begging me at least. The second we get inside, I head straight for the counter. Nova's in a sour mood so I decide to enlist her help. "Will you be a big girl and grab us three water bottles, Oog? They're right there." I point.
Her eyes widen. "Yeah!"
Nova runs to the fridge, her little feet pattering the tile while I pay the man forty dollars for pump five.
"You got it?" I ask Nova.
"Yep!"
I turn around, snorting at the image. Nova awkwardly balances three Dasanis as she carefully navigates back to me. There are a couple of oh-no! moments, but ultimately she makes it back without dropping one bottle.
"Good job, buggy."
She smiles up at me.
By the time we settle back into the car, Brandon is checking his Instagram for any word about the USB drive. His shoulders slump.
"Nothing?" I ask.
"Not yet," he says, buckling his seatbelt.
A faint rustling catches my ear. At first I think it's the wind outside but then a grape-like odor fills the car. I look over my shoulder, gasping from shock.
Nova is taking her second bite of a Laffy Taffy. She stops chewing like a horse when she sees my reaction.
"What, Natawee?" she giggles.
"Nova Emerald Scott. Did you steal that Laffy Taffy from the gas station?"
Brandon looks back with surprise, then remembers he's driving. "Oh, shit."
Nova giggles again. "I really wanted it."
"Nova, that's stealing. That's wrong!" I say.
Brandon laughs. "Well damn, I'm impressed. The kid didn't even get caught 'til now."
"Not helping, Donato," I tell him.
"What? All I'm saying is she's a natural."
"Good to know she has a future job with Mayhem Six," I deadpan.
Nova continues to enjoy her candy without any remorse. Appalled, I reach back and rip it away from her. "First, I told you no candy because you've already had too much sugar today. Second, stealing is bad, bug. We could've gotten in a lot of trouble if you were caught."
"But we steal cars," Nova reasons.
Brandon laughs until he catches my expression. "What? The kid makes an excellent case."
I smack Brandon's arm. "You, stop encouraging her!"
"Owie," the crime lord whines.
Nova's boisterous laughter fills the car.
"And you, stop stealing. We only steal cars when we have to because we're running away from a bad guy. We don't steal just because we want something. Got it?"
Still laughing, Nova nods.
I exhale my frustration, shaking my head. Brandon was right. Morality is complicated.
Portland is much bigger than Oakridge. Despite his lack of sleep and stubbornness to let me drive, I'm glad Brandon is the one weaving between traffic and not me.
Once we exit the freeway, I gape at the skyscrapers at the heart of Portland. At the polished black river cutting through town. Snow has managed to kiss every corner of this city too, leaving icy lots, snow blown pathways, and pale leafless trees.
Brandon turns down a neighborhood full of craftsman-style homes with partial wraparound porches and large, snow-filled front yards. It's the sort of neighborhood I've always envisioned myself settling down in one day.
He rolls to a stop in front of a light blue home with white accents, two-stories, and a preteen girl standing outside in the only patch of dead grass, waiting for her goldendoodle to do its business. The second she sees us park, her shoulders tense.
Brandon turns off the car and steps out. He waves at the girl whose freckled face sprouts into a grin. "Cate, is that you? You're all grown up!"
"Uncle Brandon!" She crunches through snow to get to him, her goldendoodle trailing right behind, barking. They hug.
I get out of the car, trying to beat Nova from climbing out of her booster seat and tumbling out into the road.
"Haven't seen you since you were like...what, nine?"
"Eight," she corrects.
"God, how old are you now?"
"Eleven and a half."
"Wow. It's been way too long," Brandon says, giving his niece a shoulder nudge.
"Who are they?" Cate asks, pointing at me and Nova.
I hoist Nova up on my hip, joining Brandon on the sidewalk. He slides his arm around my waist. "This is Sally and that's Oogie," he replies, surprising me that he's using our cover names. But he must want to take extra precaution, even around his niece. "Meet your auntie and cousin."
"Hi," Nova squeaks.
"Hi," replies Cate.
Cate leads us up the porch. She carries my bag while Brandon carries his, gushing about how well her basketball team is doing and how she can't wait for camp this summer.
When we enter the home, warmth greets us in the form of natural light and a fireplace crackling in the front room. Something like toasted almonds drifts in from the kitchen, along with a woman humming to music.
"Mom!" Cries Cate. "Guess who's here?"
A woman with short lavender hair and penny-brown eyes—the same as her daughter's—steps into the foyer in a flour-caked apron, flower tattoos decorating her shoulders. The moment she sees her younger brother, she sighs. "I knew you'd come. The second I saw the news."
"Missed you too, sis!" Brandon exclaims, ignoring her flat tone, embracing her. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by. Possibly for the night?"
To my surprise, she hugs him back, kissing him on the cheek. "You weren't followed, were you?"
"No," Brandon replies. And then he whispers something that Cate misses but I don't. "Your cover is still intact. Dad will never find you guys. I made sure of that a long time ago."
WC: 1498