while she taps
away on her phone.
“A pound and a fourth,” I answer as I crack open my first
lobster. I am mentally reminding myself to take it slow and enjoy the lobster
first. If I have room after that, I’ll work on the sides.
“Humph. That’s only forty-five calories. You think that’s
right?” she asks as she reenters the information to recalculate the calories. I
look over and sure enough, the screen says only forty-five calories.
“Good news, Thorton . You can eat
the whole thing,” I say
encouragingly. I start in on my food and let her stew over eating or not. Right
now, all I want to do is relish in this meal. I’m able to polish off both
lobsters with my melted butter as well as Julia’s. She eats the meat of the
tail and one claw. I consider this a success, so I don’t push her or me to
finish the rest of the meal. S’mores ends the meal. I do end up eating both
mine and Julia’s. I can’t say no to anything chocolate. It’s my weakness.
As we ride back to the campground, I declare the day a
triumph. We both survived it without getting sick or on each other’s nerves too
badly. We reach the RV at dusk and before I can reload the mopeds, Julia has
changed and set out on a run. Great. That one thing
just about knocks the wind right out of my sails. This chick is so stubborn.
“Really?” I say harshly towards her back.
“Just three quick miles and I’ll be right back,” she calls
out over her shoulder.
That just makes me tired thinking about it. I give up and go
grab my travel journal.
Chapter
Seven
Julia
Three quick miles and I’m feeling
great. The food gave me so much stamina that I’m back to the RV in less than
twenty minutes. I’m surprised when I reach the yard and find Greyson at the
picnic table. It’s almost eight. He’s hardly seen a time past eight since we’ve
started this trip.
“Isn’t it your bedtime, big boy?” I ask as I walk a few
cool-down laps around our little yard.
“Not yet,” he mumbles, distracted. He’s scribbling away in
what looks like a diary.
After grabbing a bottle of water, I join him on the opposite
side of the picnic table. “ Whatcha doing?” I ask.
He looks up and does that darn head tilt thing that makes
any warm blooded female’s heart flutter. I’m still not immune to this, even
after all of these years. He still pulls it off in this state of puniness. He
raises the pen along with an eyebrow as to say, isn’t it obvious ? He goes back to writing without a word.
“I didn’t take you as a diary keeper,” I tease, trying to
distract him. He just grunts in response. I continue on, “So… What do you write
about?”
“Stuff,” Greyson mutters.
“What kind of stuff?” I’m getting frustrated.
Greyson seems to be getting close to frustrated, too. After
expelling a deep sigh, he gets up and goes inside the RV. Before I can grab his
journal and be nosy, he is back with another leather book. As he sits back
down, he hands it and a pen over to me.
My nose wrinkles at it in disdain. “I’m not a diary kind of
girl, honey.”
He shakes his head and rolls those green eyes at me. “It’s a
travel journal, honey . You can
document our adventure.” I scoff at this so he adds with a shoulder shrug, “Or
write about everything you’ve hated so far.”
“Well… Maybe I can do that,” I mumble, but he’s already back
to writing and ignoring me. I crack open the new journal and place the point of
the pen on the blank page. Now, what to write? My pen moves on its own accord
and when I’m done I look up and find myself alone at the picnic table. I was so
engrossed in writing that I didn’t even notice when Greyson left.
~~~~
I almost
died once. I thought I had it all buttoned up too until my little sister,
Savannah, got in the way. I’ve not quite forgiven her for it either. My heart
was so close to completely stopping and all I could think in those shadowy days
was that it
away on her phone.
“A pound and a fourth,” I answer as I crack open my first
lobster. I am mentally reminding myself to take it slow and enjoy the lobster
first. If I have room after that, I’ll work on the sides.
“Humph. That’s only forty-five calories. You think that’s
right?” she asks as she reenters the information to recalculate the calories. I
look over and sure enough, the screen says only forty-five calories.
“Good news, Thorton . You can eat
the whole thing,” I say
encouragingly. I start in on my food and let her stew over eating or not. Right
now, all I want to do is relish in this meal. I’m able to polish off both
lobsters with my melted butter as well as Julia’s. She eats the meat of the
tail and one claw. I consider this a success, so I don’t push her or me to
finish the rest of the meal. S’mores ends the meal. I do end up eating both
mine and Julia’s. I can’t say no to anything chocolate. It’s my weakness.
As we ride back to the campground, I declare the day a
triumph. We both survived it without getting sick or on each other’s nerves too
badly. We reach the RV at dusk and before I can reload the mopeds, Julia has
changed and set out on a run. Great. That one thing
just about knocks the wind right out of my sails. This chick is so stubborn.
“Really?” I say harshly towards her back.
“Just three quick miles and I’ll be right back,” she calls
out over her shoulder.
That just makes me tired thinking about it. I give up and go
grab my travel journal.
Chapter
Seven
Julia
Three quick miles and I’m feeling
great. The food gave me so much stamina that I’m back to the RV in less than
twenty minutes. I’m surprised when I reach the yard and find Greyson at the
picnic table. It’s almost eight. He’s hardly seen a time past eight since we’ve
started this trip.
“Isn’t it your bedtime, big boy?” I ask as I walk a few
cool-down laps around our little yard.
“Not yet,” he mumbles, distracted. He’s scribbling away in
what looks like a diary.
After grabbing a bottle of water, I join him on the opposite
side of the picnic table. “ Whatcha doing?” I ask.
He looks up and does that darn head tilt thing that makes
any warm blooded female’s heart flutter. I’m still not immune to this, even
after all of these years. He still pulls it off in this state of puniness. He
raises the pen along with an eyebrow as to say, isn’t it obvious ? He goes back to writing without a word.
“I didn’t take you as a diary keeper,” I tease, trying to
distract him. He just grunts in response. I continue on, “So… What do you write
about?”
“Stuff,” Greyson mutters.
“What kind of stuff?” I’m getting frustrated.
Greyson seems to be getting close to frustrated, too. After
expelling a deep sigh, he gets up and goes inside the RV. Before I can grab his
journal and be nosy, he is back with another leather book. As he sits back
down, he hands it and a pen over to me.
My nose wrinkles at it in disdain. “I’m not a diary kind of
girl, honey.”
He shakes his head and rolls those green eyes at me. “It’s a
travel journal, honey . You can
document our adventure.” I scoff at this so he adds with a shoulder shrug, “Or
write about everything you’ve hated so far.”
“Well… Maybe I can do that,” I mumble, but he’s already back
to writing and ignoring me. I crack open the new journal and place the point of
the pen on the blank page. Now, what to write? My pen moves on its own accord
and when I’m done I look up and find myself alone at the picnic table. I was so
engrossed in writing that I didn’t even notice when Greyson left.
~~~~
I almost
died once. I thought I had it all buttoned up too until my little sister,
Savannah, got in the way. I’ve not quite forgiven her for it either. My heart
was so close to completely stopping and all I could think in those shadowy days
was that it
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