“Ever been in a car wash?” he interrupted.
She thought for a second, then shook her head. “No, actually. My husband did most of the driving, and they weren’t as big back then.”
Jonah smiled softly, then leaned over to pull her seat lever, lowering her seat until she was reclined. “Pardon my reach,” he murmured, adjusting his own seat to match. He hit play on the radio, and "You Can’t Hurry Love" by Diana Ross filled the cab, the warm beat of the sixties spilling through the speakers.
Ruby blinked, a bit caught off guard. “The most satisfying five minutes of a person’s life,” Jonah said with a grin.
“Five minutes is all you got, huh?”
Jonah’s mouth dropped open in playful shock, the sound of the water starting to fall over the windshield filling the cab as he blinked at her. He recovered quickly, shaking his head with a laugh, and together, they watched as the brushes danced, the soap swirling in colors of pink and green across the glass.
The nozzles clicked into place, releasing a wave of water over the windshield, distorting the view in front of them. Ruby shifted in her seat, her body sinking lower from where Jonah had adjusted her. The world outside turned into a cascade of swirling suds, soap sliding down the windows like streaks of milky clouds.
“You weren’t kidding, this is kind of satisfying,” Ruby admitted, fixated on the hypnotic rhythm of the brushes swiping against the glass.
Jonah hummed in agreement. The beat of the sixties music thrummed in time with the gentle rocking of the car.
“So this is your idea of a fun time, huh?” Ruby teased, glancing sideways at him.
He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head. “Life’s in the little moments, Ruby. I figured we could use a bit of simple joy.”
Simple joy. How long had it been since she'd allowed herself to indulge in something so... normal? Watching the car get cleaned, talking about music, laughing at stupid jokes—it was so far from the chaos of her usual existence. Jonah seemed to be aware of that, too, his eyes occasionally flicking over to her like he was gauging her reactions.
A question had been gnawing at her ever since she’d watched a short video on red flags in modern dating. "Do you have friends?"
Jonah turned to her, lips quirking. “What?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Do you have friends?”
“Yeah, I have friends,” he said with an amused grin. “A whole friend group, actually.”
“But do you spend time with them?”
“Uh, yes?” He chuckled.
She frowned. “But you’re always messaging me or with me.”
“I can message you while I’m with them, you know. It takes like two seconds to send a text.”
She scoffed. Two seconds? It took her far longer to text, poking out each letter with one finger like a grandma. The truth was, she despised technology, and juggling relationships—romantic or platonic—through a screen made her feel disconnected.
The colorful foam slid over the windows in vibrant pinks, blues, and greens, like some kind of strange, psychedelic art. The brushes spun and slapped against the side of the truck, making a soft thudding noise that matched the beat of the song. It was all oddly soothing.
As the dryer blasted the truck with hot air, blowing away the last of the water droplets, Ruby found herself smiling. Not the small, forced smiles she had mastered over the years, but a genuine, light one that came without thinking.
In moments like these, she realized how much she craved normalcy—an escape from the weight of her past and the chaos of her responsibilities.
The car rolled out of the wash, and Jonah shifted his seat back up, motioning for her to do the same. They were bathed in sunlight again, the fresh smell of soap lingering in the air. Ruby hadn’t realized how much tension had melted away during those five minutes. She had let her guard down, even if just for a little while, and it felt good.
DENVER’S MUSEUM OFNature & Science loomed ahead, a familiar beacon in the city, its stone steps leading them into a space where curiosity and discovery thrived. The cool October air brushed against Ruby’s skin as they entered the bustling museum, families and couples milling about with bright-eyed enthusiasm.
“If you make a single old joke, I’m going to impale you with a dinosaur bone,” Ruby warned as they stepped inside, her tone dry.
Jonah grinned. “Noted.”
They bought tickets to the planetarium's astronomy show and soon found themselves in the darkened theater. The curved ceiling stretched above them, vast like the night sky itself. Ruby leaned back in her chair, grounding herself with the cool leather on her neck. As the lights dimmed and the screen came to life, breathtaking images of stars, nebulae, and distant galaxies filled the room. The low hum of celestial music vibrated through the theater, adding to the immensity of the experience.
Ruby couldn’t tear her eyes away. The sheer vastness of the universe pressed down on her chest. Here, under the expanse of stars, she was reminded of how small she was—how insignificant all her struggles seemed against the backdrop of something so much larger. It was beautiful. It was terrifying.
