Go, Go Greyhound

-Jacey-

My father ended up dropping us at a car rental agency, huffing and puffing over the Greyhound Bus Station having closed. We spent three-and-a-half awkward hours in the car, stopping at rest stops and gas stations only when Jeanie said she needed a break.

I would have rather peed my pants than ask my father for anything at that point. It was bad enough I’d cried. Caleb had been a love and kept his finger curled in my belt loop all the way to Thunder Bay.

“I suppose I’ll have to pay for the car, too,” my father grumbled, getting out of the Suburban.

Caleb stopped him. “Don’t bother. I’ve got it covered. And don’t expect to see us for a day or two. We need to cool off, and so do you.”