"Are you ready to leave us by the side of the road?"
she asks in room 802 of the Best Western
in downtown Charleston. We are on Day 2 of our road trip,
summer's last hurrah with the boys before school starts and we lose ourselves
to the concentric itineraries of the must-do's and the still-to-be-done's.
I think she's kidding, but a look of genuine worry crosses her face, as if
backseat squabbles and long hours sandwiched in the car might have done me in.
I laugh, shake my head. "I'm starving," I say," and we ride the elevator down to breakfast.
The coffee is weak, the eggs undercooked, the bananas overripe.
But I know a feast when I see one.