All The Broken Pieces Vol. 2 by H.M. Ward

Author:H.M. Ward [Ward, H.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Laree Bailey Press
Published: 2020-04-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 7

A vlogger? K’Teal is a video blogger? Does Uber even allow that? I glance at my watch and nod.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Awesome,” the guy trembles with excitement. Think chihuahua going on a car ride.

I lift a finger and add, “As long as I get to work on time.”

I don’t mention that I hate cameras or pictures of myself. Or the fact that this guy seems like he forgot his meds. Or maybe he took them all at once. Who vlogs from a Buick? I offer a sympathy smile which restores the man’s former confidence.

As we travel down the roadways at parade float speed, he tells me about his appreciation for pumpkin spice and sporks. “I used to keep a collection in the backseat, ya know, something for riders to look at while they traveled, but my ranking started to slip.”

“From sporks?” I can’t hide my shock at the direction this conversation has taken. My eyebrows have climbed over my forehead and are traveling down my neck.

“Yeah, I mean what else could it be? The car is pristine and I’m a safe driver.” He bats a finger at an air freshener shaped like a pumpkin hanging from his vent. “And who doesn’t like pumpkin spice? They should make it year-round. I mean, why wait until fall?”

I glance over at him, wondering if he’s for real. “So you like it?”

“Understatement!” Glancing at me, he exclaims something that sounds like 90’s surfer slang, and continues, “I mean, hell, yeah!” Excitement shatters what’s left of his composure and I’m treated to a sincere grin that swallows his entire face. “The coffee is the best, although I really enjoy a good pot of tea. I bought up what was left on Amazon a few months ago. It’s long gone.” He tips his chin up toward the ornamental pumpkin hanging from the rearview mirror and chortles. “I might hafta eat the air freshener soon.”

I snort a laugh. The sound shocks me. I haven’t giggled, chuckled, or done anything that could be considered laughter of any sort since Zach died. The sensation of it shocks me. The foreignness of the feeling, the way my belly clenches as if I am going to hurl, but it’s like joy broke free from somewhere unknown to me and spewed out of my mouth. It’s weird.

I don’t realize I’m smiling until K’Teal beams back at me. I let the slight smile fall, and point to the camera with the red light blinking on top. I know it’s recording, but I’m not sure why. “So tell me about your Vlog.” We only have three more turns until I’m at the school, which should take less than five minutes -- but at the rate he’s driving, Miss Daisy could walk faster.

K’Teal nods with a sheepish grin. “That’s my moneymaker, dog. All this driving people around just pays the bills, but the vlog is the dream. I can interview riders, we can talk about stuff that matters like whether or not napkins are really important.

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