Why not stay here?

(Continuing)

The day was drawn forward by gusty breezes heaving from the south, warm and dusty at the graveled edges of roads that lead straight out of town with three or four days off, depending on how serious he wanted to be about the road trip.

In the mind that he was given he drove a Jeep, he saddled a horse and rode out with his cat securely fastened and sedated for the journey. Zoe had asked for some kind of compensatory meal or at least some added comforts for the journey and he was more than willing to agree.

More truly he drove, now, a Subaru Forrester that he had rented from the parking lot three doors down the street from his building. He'd seen the rental advertisements so frequently and knew at some point he was going to have to get the work done on the Honda. This was the time to do it, so off they went with Zoe in her little car carrier after much squealing and significant threats. Actually, he left the carrier open the entire time and after some initial freak out sessions, she took comfort by nestling into a corner of the carrier and falling asleep to the vibrations of the engine as they radiated through the floor.

Of course his last full work day with both jobs was a bear.

Pauline O'Sullivan wanted to know where the hell her damn newspaper was – I ask you! Do you see it? I don't see it…?

Am I seeing something under your garbage can? Yep, right there… Sure enough, you have a good one, now.

Alan was back with a joke he completely blew after five minutes of the poor drivers life he would never get back with the lengthy introduction and eighteen parts of a four sectioned sequel of who the hell knows what – but when Alan finally said goodbye the man was reminded he'd definitely forgotten his antacid.

I had, he thought, a cup and half extra of coffee after trying to wave off Anthony who was walking around with a fresh brewed pot of French roast. Why do I do it to myself?

The night of the arrival of the Poppy to his apartment, the gift from an old art friend he didn't quite get to see in person, now seemed like ages ago. It was strange then to receive a text from that very person, a message which, in essence, was sent to thank him for the thank you.

How long is this going to go on, he wondered.

In fact, as he threw his last bag into the Subaru and turned the key he was almost in disbelief that he would be at her cabin the day after next. Why on earth would I ever agree to that?