“I assume you have vending machines somewhere?” I ask, looking around, and her eyes go big.

“Yes.” She walks around the desk to a room in the corner. “Here are the machines.” She points at two vending machines. One is filled with chips and chocolates, and the other has soft drinks.

“I think I’m going to need change,” I say, seeing that everything is seventy-five cents.

“No worries. If you want, I can open the machine for you and just hand you what you want.” She smiles at me, walking out of the room to get the key to open the machine.

By the time I get back into the room, the shower is still running. I dump the ten packs of chips, chocolate bars, Oreo cookies, Cheez-It snacks, some peanuts, and a honey bun on the side table in the middle of the two beds. The water shuts off as soon as I kick off my shoes, and my phone rings. I pick it up and see it’s Casey.

“Hey.” I answer the phone softly.

“Hey, yourself,” he says, and I hear the covers rustle in the background. “Where are you?”

“No clue,” I say, sitting on the bed and falling back. “Someplace that has a Piggly Wiggly.” He laughs.

“That could be anywhere from Alabama to Florida.”

“I think we have another twelve hours to go,” I say. “Why was it a good idea to drive?”

“Because your flight can be traced here, and if your friend wants to stay under the radar, the best thing to do is drive,” he says, and I shake my head. “Either way, I’m happy you’re finally coming home.”

“Don’t start with me, Casey,” I say. “I get enough of a guilt trip from Mom when I don’t come home for the holidays.”

“Yeah, well, she’s already cleaning out your old room and cooking all your favorite dishes.” He laughs. “Expect lots of home-cooked meals,” he whispers, “with butter.”

“God,” I groan. “I just got under one hundred and ten pounds. Do you know how many hot yoga sessions I had to do and salads I had to eat? Kale is not tasty.”

“It is if it’s deep fried and then drenched in butter,” he says. “Anyway, I’m off to bed. Five a.m. comes quickly.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow. I am going to push through,” I say. The bathroom door opens, and Olivia comes out in a cloud of steam. “See you then,” I say and disconnect.

Olivia has her hair wrapped up in a white towel and another towel wrapped around her chest, and she’s carrying her clothes in a ball in her hand. “That shower felt great.” She dumps her clothes on the bed and comes over to the food that I bought. “What do we have here?”

“The second-best thing I could get,” I say, getting up to a sitting position. “The Piggly Wiggly is closed.”