We shared the shower. He made me coffee. I buttered his toast and he fed me fruit salad. I did the dishes. He brought the luggage to the car. I filled Peridot's bowls. He opened my car door and I drove out of the parking lot. Direction: New Orleans.
The glorious morning helped lift our spirits. Not a cloud diluted the azure sky, a perfect summer day for people to play hooky and hit the beaches. If everything went according to plan, we'd have time to stop somewhere along the coast and have a nice lunch.
"We're going to pass welcome signs at every state border?" he asked.
I considered teasing him with local products as I had with Benedetta but thought better of it. "Yes."
Garth Brooks sang at the top of his lungs about friends in low places, and Gabe whistled along with the radio almost
