“I put the bagels on paper towels so we wouldn’t leave any dirty dishes behind,” he said, by way of explanation.
“I am so looking forward to having you to myself for two whole weeks.”
“No more than I, babe.”
I noticed the cooler on the counter. “Shit, I forgot to carry the cooler to the car.”
“You can take it when we leave.”
We finished our breakfast, and I rinsed the coffee cups out and left them in the sink. We went to the bathroom and, standing side by side at the counter, brushed our teeth. I carried the cooler to the door and set it just outside. Then I stepped back inside, closed the door, and kissed him thoroughly. “That’s all you get until we get where we’re going.”
“Damn, it’s going to be a long day.”
“We’ll survive.”
“That we will, babe. Ready?”
“You bet.”
We stepped out the door, and I closed and locked it. Then we headed up I-95 and didn’t stop for nearly three hours. Somewhere in South Carolina, I said, “Ready for a pit stop?”