Just when I think I've finally gained the upper hand in a situation, Vincent throws me for a loop. "A trip? Where? How long?" I leave out the part of demanding to know if we'd be driving. Puking on Vincent Valiant could be the highlight of my week.
He rests his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "Pack enough for three days."
"Three days where?" There's a big f*****g difference between attire for Alaska versus Florida.
Vincent turns and walks back to the elevator, leaving me alone in the garage without answering my question. Ugh. How did getting a car turn into me mad at him?
...
WE WALK across the airstrip together as the pilot lowers a set of short steps from a small plane at the Lansing Capital City Airport. A light drizzle falls on the area mimicking my mood. A full day later and V
