Two Months Later
“Where are you, pumpkin?” I can tell by his voice that my dad is trying to sound supportive and I love him for it.
“Nova Scotia. I just passed a little place called Antigonish.”
“So, are you almost to Cape Breton Island then?”
“About another hour. I should reach South Haven sometime around three.”
“What’s it like to drive again?”
“Like riding a bike.”
“That’s what worries me. You never were that good at bike riding.”
A small laugh escapes my lips. “Thanks for the encouragement.”
“Any time. But seriously, you’re okay hauling a trailer behind that little Honda?”
“It’s not that small, it’s a CRV. Getting out of the city was sketchy, but now that I’m on the open road, I’m fine.”
“Did you get the oil changed before you left? And check the tire pressure?”
“Yes, Dad,” I say, sounding like an annoyed teenager. “I had it serviced when I took it out of storage.”
“You know you have to give yourself twice the distance to come to a stop with all that weight behind it.”
“I know. I’m going slow, giving myself lots of room.”
“Okay, well, I’m glad to hear you’re not flipped over in a ditch somewhere.”
“You should have been the writer.”
“What’s that? You’re really quiet.” Despite a mountain of evidence, my dad seems utterly unaware of the fact that he’s losing his hearing.
“I said I think Walt is having a worse time than me. He’ll definitely be glad to be out of his carrier when we get there.”
“Walt?” He pauses. “Oh, right, the cat. Okay, I better hand the phone over to your mom. She’s been pacing around waiting to hear from you for hours.”
“Oh, no, that’s—”
“Hello? Abby? Is that you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut for a split second when I hear her voice. “Yes, Mom.”
“Are you on speakerphone?”
Isaac and I would have shared a knowing glance just now. The thought instantly tortures me, and I silently gasp to make it stop. “Yes, of course.”
“Good. Is it safe to drive there? I’ve heard the roads can be very icy in Canada. Did you get winter tires? I read that you need special tires there.”
“I think that’s only in the winter. It’s almost eighty degrees today.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that.” Her words come out short, their undercurrent hinting at the strain I’ve always been on her. Well, the feeling is mutual, Mom.
She sighs heavily. “This is very hard for me, you know. You just pick up and move to a foreign country. What if it’s not safe for a single woman there?”
“It’s Canada, Mom, not a war zone in the Middle East. A tiny little village with less than three thousand people too polite to rob you. Besides, I ran a check on the Internet, and South Haven has been certified to be completely free from gangs and thugs.” I’m not proud of how sarcastic I sound, but somehow, I can’t seem to stop myself.
