Cleo’s visor hand barely shielded her eyes from the sun that morning. She glanced across the deserted road for some solace but only found sand and a few tufts of grass. She could see what looked like a gas station in the distance, but the heat warped the air around her. “Why did I even want a yurt?” She muttered to herself, exasperated.

 Cleo knew the pain in her stomach was because it was well past her lunch time. She burst through the door of the gas station and repeatedly crammed a dollar into the vending machine until it spit out a Coke.

 “You okay there?” The attendant’s brow furrowed in concern.

Cleo chugged her soda like she was in a commercial and swiped her forearm across her lips when she finished the bottle. “Yes,” she managed to say. “But my car isn’t.”

“I’m sure we can take care of it. How far is it?”

Cleo doubled over, “A couple miles, it feels like.”

“I’ll send Noah out there to bring it in.”

A younger man appeared unceremoniously next to the attendant and held out his hand for Cleo’s keys then vanished again.

The attendant laced his hands together and leaned on the counter. “So, you heading to the Big Ditch?”

Cleo’s eyebrow raised, “The Big Ditch?”

“You know, the Canyon.”

Cleo chuckled, “Not today.”

She heard Noah arrive back hauling Cleo’s yellow Beetle before the song static-ing out of the radio on the counter could finish.

“We’ll let you know when it’s done,” the attendant said, nodding toward Cleo. “There’s a restaurant about eight miles down. We get a lot of bikers here if you want to try to get one of them to take you.”

Cleo had one foot out of the door before the attendant could even finish his sentence. And luckily, a couple of them were talking out front. “Hey!” Cleo waved. “Any of you heading to the restaurant up the street?”

They shrugged as if they had practiced synchrony. “We could eat,” one of the guys said, tapping the seat behind him.

Cleo raised her third shot of tequila in the air. “Congratulations to my stunning niece and our newest addition to the family. Cheers y’all!” Cleo clinked her shot glass with her sister, Temperance, and threw back the tequila. She grabbed a lime from the table and sprinkled it with some sugar before she chewed on it.

Ronnie observed this display from a couple tables down and decided to walk over.

“Aren’t you supposed to use salt for tequila?”

Cleo turned toward Ronnie. “Why make an experience miserable for myself when I like sugar better?” Cleo grinned at her.

Ronnie chuckled, “So the bride is your niece?”

 “My favorite niece,” Cleo said, smirking, “But I say that to all my nieces.”

“She was one of my favorite students,” Ronnie responded, “But I also say that to all my students.”

The pair stood in silence for a moment, both of them hypnotized by each other’s company.

“Let’s dance!” Cleo finally said, grabbing Ronnie’s wrist and leading her to the dance floor, Cleo’s tunic dress ballooning behind them in what Ronnie thought was the most graceful way.

The lights changed colors and shifted around them, and Cleo busted out some dance moves from the 70s: her favorite era.

“I remember those moves from back in the day,” Ronnie half-shouted at Cleo to make sure Cleo could hear over the music.

“In my mind, the 70s never ended,” Cleo laughed. “I could listen to disco records and roller skate all day.”

Ronnie winced internally, “I never learned to roller skate. I’m sure I’d be awful at it.”

“I’m sure you’d be better than you think,” Cleo beamed.

The night wound down. Cleo’s niece, Aaliyah, tapped Cleo on the shoulder. “Auntie, I haven’t seen you all night!”

Cleo enveloped Aaliyah in a hug. “I guess I got caught up dancing,” Cleo looked over at Ronnie, who had gone to collect her things across the room.

“I think you got caught up in something else,” Aaliyah giggled. “How’s my second grade teacher?”

“She seems nice,” Cleo shrugged, trying not to let on too much, but Aaliyah could see right through it.

“Just don’t hurt her, okay? She was one of my favorite teachers.”

“She says you were one of her favorite students too,” Cleo was quick to respond.

“Have fun, Auntie,” Aaliyah’s voice was full of playful disdain.

“You too. Your honeymoon is gonna be slammin’,” Cleo offered back, “In more ways than one.”

Aaliyah cracked up, pushing Cleo’s shoulder in Ronnie’s direction. Satisfied, Cleo walked toward Ronnie’s table with two shots of tequila in hand.