“He’s been sending me links to baby name sites. He’s also marked my fertile days on the calendar for the next six months.” I can’t tell if Cosy is amused or irritated by this. Probably the former over the latter.
“You’re not even thirty.”
“Yeah, but he’s closing in on forty and he’d like to be done with teenagers by the time he’s sixty.”
“I can see the validity in that.”
Griffin Mills is a very type A, yet slightly impulsive guy. When he’s in, he’s all in, which is how he is with Cosy. He doesn’t half-ass anything about their relationship. It’s part of the reason I’m driving to Colorado to celebrate her birthday, along with what I’m suspecting will be about two hundred other people. And that’s a conservative estimate.
Cosy loves Colorado and live concerts, and her favorite band just happens to be playing at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre this weekend. What’s even more impressive is that Griffin somehow managed to plan this event far enough in advance (probably before he even proposed to her) and secured the band and the amphitheatre for a private concert—Cosy happens to be unaware of this fact.
I don’t even want to consider how much money he spent on this, or what Cosy is going to say about it when she finds out. Cosy has always been very practical with money and extremely thrifty. Much better at financial management than I’ve ever been.
I’m not proud to admit that for a number of years I dated highly emotionally unavailable men who showered me with gifts and provided me with a shallow, empty, but comfortable existence.
So when my very practical, bargain-shopping, somewhat relationship averse younger sister ended up with a guy almost eleven years older than her with enough money to buy several small countries, I was surprised. I was also appropriately wary due to my own experiences with older, wealthy men, although I did cash in on his desperation a few times when he screwed things up with Cosy in the beginning.
I’ve matured a lot since then.
Okay, I’ve matured a little.
And I’m still working on making better choices with men, hence the reason I’ve spent the better part of the past year on self-improvement. Which also means I’ve been on a lengthy dating hiatus. My lady parts haven’t seen action in so long that I almost feel like a born-again virgin.
I’m equal parts excited and nervous about this party. The Mills family knows how to throw a shindig. There will also be an inordinate number of insanely financially well-endowed dudes there. I’m going to do my best not to fall off the wagon and get involved with one of them. Not even just a fling.
Well . . . maybe a fling wouldn’t hurt. Get back on the bike once to make sure I haven’t forgotten how to ride.
“Anyway, enough about baby names and me getting knocked up. Do you think you’ll be here in time for dinner? We’re planning to have a campout. Griffin even set up the Airstream and there are yurts and everything!” I imagine Cosy bouncing on her toes with excitement.
I’ve seen Griffin’s Airstream. It’s nicer than the apartment Cosy and I used to live in back when she first met him. And close to the same size.
I glance at my phone, which is set in a mount on the dash. “According to the map, I’ll be there in nine hours and seventeen minutes, but that’s based on me driving the actual speed limit, so there’s a good chance I’ll be there sooner than that.”
“Just don’t get a speeding ticket.”
“I’ve talked my way out of the last three, so don’t you worry, little sister.” I take my foot off the gas, though, because there’s a car on the shoulder up ahead, and while I’m sure I can get myself out of another ticket if I need to, I’d rather avoid the delay.
I’m currently on an open stretch, having just passed the Arizona-Utah border. The road before me is flat and straight, with the desert spanning on both sides, not a cloud in the sky, and the sun is beating down, hot and bright. I adjust my sunglasses, slowing a little more as I approach the car.
It’s old, definitely a classic. Those happen to be my kryptonite. When I moved to New York to be closer to my sister, I managed to score a really cool job restoring classic cars at a very exclusive body shop.
My recent trip to Vegas was spent checking out a couple of options for one of the shop’s very regular clients. I’m being paid to drive across the country and tell him whether or not I think it’s worth it to purchase and restore the car.
Obviously, I’m going to use the opportunity to check out a few more on the way home, and make a stop in Colorado for the weekend to hang out with my sister on her birthday.