The sun is pouring like honey through the window above my head. I want to lie here and enjoy the comfort of the bed just awhile longer, but I know I have to push myself. I slide out of the bed slowly and shuffle over to my suitcase. I pull out a pair of jeans with holes in the knees, and one of my many Tobuscus t-shirts. As I am getting dressed, my stomach growls and I feel light headed. I need breakfast.
As I walk out of the bedroom, I see dad’s packed bag by the front door.
“What’s that for?” I ask him. He doesn't even look up from the frying pan as he answers. Obviously he picked up some groceries this morning. When we stay in a hotel that has a kitchen, dad likes to cook breakfast. It gives us both a sense of normal.
"What's what for?" he says still concentrating on the eggs. "Daaad!" I say, "Your bags! Why are they at the door?" This time he looks up from cooking and answers.
"Oh, that..." he says, "We're leaving today." He flips the egg, and I look at him in confusion.
"Why?" I ask. He pushes the bacon around in the pan and turns toward me. I see his seafoam green eyes looking cold at me. This never happens. We always stay for three days. Dad never changes his routine.
"We are going to see Uncle Richie since we are so close to where he lives." Uncle Richie is not really my uncle, but he raised my dad so we consider him family.
∞∆∞
I throw my suitcase in the back and hop into the truck. Dad pulls away from Westward Suites, turns up the radio, puts on his sunglasses and starts tapping the wheel with the beat of the music. My dad’s and my favorite song, “Someone Like You” by Adele comes on. He starts singing and I join in, stomping my feet and singing at the top of my lungs. This is one of the only times I really feel free, and I know my dad and I are connecting. I stick my head out the window and the wind flies at my face, I feel like a soaring bird.
I bring my head back inside the truck, and hear Katy Perry’s song “Firework.” My dad has turned the radio down and is on the phone, so I get out my book. I recline the passenger seat and get out my pillow and blanket. I read for a while and I feel my eyelids getting heavy. I put in my bookmark and throw my book at my feet, then lay my head back on the pillow and drift off into sleep, the light wind blowing on my face.
A/N: So I know this section is short, but I thought that was the best place to end it... Well I'm off. TOODLES!
