Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“It's not her job.”
“Well, she shouldn't have said she would if she didn't want to.”
“She was surprised by your request.”
He repeated this to his wife, who laughed with gurgling delight.
“You know, our philosophy of travel can be traced back to one of our favorite Beatles
song, the one about getting by with a little help from your friends.”
I'd had enough.
“Jane's not your friend.”
“But you are.”
I thought about my mother, living in a small town within spitting distance of this man.
If she ever ran into him at the supermarket (which, I admit, was a highly unlikely scenario
since she very rarely did her own shopping), she might be forced to acknowledge the real-
ity of his connection to us and our house.
“So you're really not going to rent a car?”
“No way, José,” he said breezily.
“Fine,” I said, breathing deeply, “how about renting scooters?”
“Are they cheap?”
Not as cheap as you are
, I longed with every fiber of my being to reply—but I didn't.
“I think they're relatively inexpensive.”
“Let me just confer with the old ball and chain.”
A brief pause.
“We're ready to scoot. Are you willing to pay half?”
“Oh God, yes.”
It turns out my mother did run into Kevin and his fair bride a few months later.
“Your son's house is lovely,” Kevin told her. “But, just between you and me, our visit
to Vieques was the most expensive vacation of our lives.”
☼ ☼ ☼
Another thing stands out from that season.
Jane reported that she'd spoken to our contractor, Steve, the week before.
“I'm afraid it's not good,” she said.
I caught my breath.
“Tell me.”
“We only spoke a minute. Then he handed the phone to Sue.”
Oh God.
“That doesn't sound good.”
“No.”
I tried to marshal my thoughts.
“You think he's near the end?”
Search WWH ::
Custom Search