The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon
““Kids got your ponchos?” Mom asked, looking up at the sky. There was still blue up there, but the clouds were thickening in the west. It very likely would rain, but probably not soon enough for Pete to have a satisfying whine about being soaked.
“I’ve got mine, Mom!” Trisha chirruped in her oh-boy-waterless-cookware voice.
Pete grunted something that might have been yes.
“Lunches?”
Affirmative from Trisha; another low grunt from Pete.
“Good, because I’m not sharing mine.” She locked the Caravan, then led them across the dirt lot toward a sign marked TRAIL WEST, with an arrow beneath. There were maybe a dozen other cars in the lot, all but theirs with out-of-state plates.
“Bug-spray?” Mom asked as they stepped onto the path leading to the trail. “Trish?”
“Got it!” she chirruped, not entirely positive she did but not wanting to stop with her back turned so that Mom could have a rummage. That would get Pete going again for sure. If they kept walking, though, he might see something which ...would interest him, or at least distract him.MoreLess
“I’ve got mine, Mom!” Trisha chirruped in her oh-boy-waterless-cookware voice.
Pete grunted something that might have been yes.
“Lunches?”
Affirmative from Trisha; another low grunt from Pete.
“Good, because I’m not sharing mine.” She locked the Caravan, then led them across the dirt lot toward a sign marked TRAIL WEST, with an arrow beneath. There were maybe a dozen other cars in the lot, all but theirs with out-of-state plates.
“Bug-spray?” Mom asked as they stepped onto the path leading to the trail. “Trish?”
“Got it!” she chirruped, not entirely positive she did but not wanting to stop with her back turned so that Mom could have a rummage. That would get Pete going again for sure. If they kept walking, though, he might see something which ...would interest him, or at least distract him.MoreLess
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