He didn’t say anything.
“Are we good?” I asked.
“I suppose.”
18The Boy Scout Handbook
“Hey, Lori, I heard we have the same day off. Do you want to go on a road trip with me?” Gilda asked.
I had been wondering what I’d do on my day off since I certainly didn’t want to go home. “That sounds great.”
We decided to skip the camp breakfast and be decadent, eating all three meals in restaurants with clean utensils and table service. The idea of no buffet line made me giddy.
The town diner was retro with red and white checkered tablecloths, silver swivel stools with red vinyl covers, and glass domed plates filled with doughnuts and pies along the counter. We sat down and hot coffee magically appeared, poured into big clean white mugs by a woman wearing a crisp white apron, a teased bleached-blonde bouffant, and a big friendly smile. “I’ll give you gals a minute.”
I inspected the spoon before using it to swirl the cream in my coffee.
“What’re you doing?” Gilda asked.
“The cleanliness of the utensils in the dining hall are sketchy. I wipe them down before I eat because I’m convinced I’m going to get lockjaw.”
She smiled. “I know for a fact that your tetanus shot is up to date so you’re safe.”
“How do you know that?”
“One of my many jobs is making sure all senior staff medicals are filled out and filed.”
Sipping the piping hot coffee, I sighed. It wasn’t made from dirty water, but it was freshly brewed and delicious. My stomach grumbled while reading the two-column list of items I could add to my eggs—feta cheese, spinach, and tomatoes with a side of crispy bacon. It was heavenly sitting in that kitschy diner before I even took a bite.
As we ate, Gilda showed me an itinerary she got from a TV show about hidden gems in New England. I loved walking through quaint towns, so I was game. We mapped out our trip as we ate. Gilda suggested dinner at the fancy restaurant directly across the street where I’d sat waiting for Ronnie while nursing a drink. At least now I’d get to try the food.
As we paid the check, I noticed the sheer, frilly curtains on the windows. They looked like the ones in my room. Maybe I’d find some at a yard sale during our adventures.
Gilda’s itinerary included an antique toy store and a small shop known for its Madagascar vanilla beans. We walked around a bit and then drove to a bakery owned and operated by ex-convicts. We bought onion and olive rolls, sharing them for lunch.
We leisurely drove to the next destination where we cruised the local shops before stopping for homemade ice cream. Without my usual hesitation, I ordered a double-scoop cone with cherry vanilla and triple chocolate—I deserved a treat. The daily fruit, yogurt, and salads always left me wanting, and I refused to eat the greasy, carb-heavy dinners.
I licked the cone. “This is completely decadent.”
“I’m so happy you joined me. I’ve been wanting to do this drive forever.”
We sat on a bench under a tree enjoying our treats. Gilda dug into an ice cream sundae that had a mound of whipped cream and a maraschino cherry on top.
When we were done, we crossed the street to a store called Secondhand Rose that had a big red flower painted on the window
There were racks of clothes, shelves filled with knick-knacks, dishes, and tchotchkes of all shapes and sizes. Gilda was picking through books, and next to her I saw a copy ofWe’re Going on a Bear Hunt. It was one of my kids’ favorites.
I wandered off to a back room that was set up like the kitchen in the bungalow colony. A faux green marble-top table with chrome edging stood in the middle of the linoleum floor surrounded by matching chairs. The windows were covered in a white cotton eyelet.
I asked the shopkeeper, “Do you have any other curtains?”
“In that box over there, in the corner.”
I rummaged through the pile, sneezing from the dust mites and musty smell, but I kept going—I was on a mission. I found something that came close. They were sheer and frilly but had embroidered yellow daisies on the trim.
They were five dollars, so I decided to buy them, despite the daisies. I was walking to the front to pay when another book caught my eye,The Boy Scout Handbook.I randomly thumbed the book open and found myself looking at a chapter on how to build a campfire.
“I think I’m going to buy this,” I said.
