comes to stand beside me. Instead of surreptitiously peeking out the blinds like me, he grabs the cord on the right and pulls on it, causing the blinds to shoot upward and exposing us standing there.
With a shriek, I jump back from the window and then take several more steps backward. My dad just stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and takes it all in.
Not only is there the massive “Evan Scott” bus, but there’s a matching bus just behind it. Same colors, same announcement on the side, so there’s no doubt as to the fame of the person inside.
And behind the two buses… two tractor-trailers. These are non-descript with full-length, white trailers behind them and I have no idea why they’re sitting there.
“Looks like he’ll put on quite a show,” my dad observes thoughtfully.
I don’t answer, but instead look around my living room. I’ve got two large suitcases filled with my clothes, a smaller rolling case with my toiletries, and a separate duffel filled with necessities for Sirius. He’s currently lying beside it sleeping, as my dad wore him out about half an hour ago playing a vicious game of tug of war.
Am I really doing this? Am I going to join that caravan of musicians and God knows who else, and travel around the country?
I guess I am and still can’t quite wrap my head around the prospect. I’ve never done anything so spontaneous… so ill planned. So… adventurous?
“You’ll have an amazing time,” my dad says softly, and my head snaps toward him. He’s looking at me with a keen paternal understanding. “This will be good for you, Em. You need a little excitement in your life.”
“My life has plenty of excitement,” I mutter, and then my eyes slide back to the window as I see movement outside. The doors open on the first bus, and Evan comes trotting down the steps.
I can’t explain the light, fluttery feeling deep in my belly as he cuts across my lawn. He’s wearing a pair of faded khaki shorts that hang low with frayed hems, a green Mountain Dew t-shirt, and a beat-up old baseball cap done in light blue with UNC’s mascot on the front. I remember reading he actually went to Carolina for three years before he dropped out to pursue music full time. It’s a warm spring day and I notice he’s wearing flip-flops, just as I notice his legs are tanned and muscled. Of course, that leads me to check out his arms, which are also corded with lean muscle, and the fluttering in my belly picks up its pace.
Within moments, Evan’s knocking at my front door. My dad merely takes a few steps to the side from my front window to let him in. Sirius bolts up out of his sleep when he hears we have a visitor and he tries to shoot past me. I lunge, grab onto his collar, and give him a stern, “Sit”. Miraculously, his butt hits the floor where his tail sweeps back and forth along the hardwood with excitement.
“Evan,” my dad says as he extends his hand out. “I’m Cary Peterson.”
Evan shakes my dad’s hand with a smile as he says, “It’s good to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise,” my dad says, and then he steps away from Evan toward me, his hands coming to my shoulders. “Okay, honey… I’m going to head out, but you have a great time on this trip.”
“I’m working, Dad,” I remind him primly. “It’s not a vacation.”
“Well, enjoy yourself anyway,” he chides as he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. When he pulls away, he looks at me somberly for a moment before adding on, “I’m proud of you for doing this. Trying something new.”
“I’m doing this to get a new job,” I remind him, because I had a long talk with him yesterday after Evan left, told him about this “offer of employment,” and that Evan assured me that Midge would help me secure a job in another firm when I completed my duties. He seemed neither shocked nor disappointed by this proclamation, and I suspect that’s because my dad just wants me to be happy and he knows I’m not with Knight &
With a shriek, I jump back from the window and then take several more steps backward. My dad just stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and takes it all in.
Not only is there the massive “Evan Scott” bus, but there’s a matching bus just behind it. Same colors, same announcement on the side, so there’s no doubt as to the fame of the person inside.
And behind the two buses… two tractor-trailers. These are non-descript with full-length, white trailers behind them and I have no idea why they’re sitting there.
“Looks like he’ll put on quite a show,” my dad observes thoughtfully.
I don’t answer, but instead look around my living room. I’ve got two large suitcases filled with my clothes, a smaller rolling case with my toiletries, and a separate duffel filled with necessities for Sirius. He’s currently lying beside it sleeping, as my dad wore him out about half an hour ago playing a vicious game of tug of war.
Am I really doing this? Am I going to join that caravan of musicians and God knows who else, and travel around the country?
I guess I am and still can’t quite wrap my head around the prospect. I’ve never done anything so spontaneous… so ill planned. So… adventurous?
“You’ll have an amazing time,” my dad says softly, and my head snaps toward him. He’s looking at me with a keen paternal understanding. “This will be good for you, Em. You need a little excitement in your life.”
“My life has plenty of excitement,” I mutter, and then my eyes slide back to the window as I see movement outside. The doors open on the first bus, and Evan comes trotting down the steps.
I can’t explain the light, fluttery feeling deep in my belly as he cuts across my lawn. He’s wearing a pair of faded khaki shorts that hang low with frayed hems, a green Mountain Dew t-shirt, and a beat-up old baseball cap done in light blue with UNC’s mascot on the front. I remember reading he actually went to Carolina for three years before he dropped out to pursue music full time. It’s a warm spring day and I notice he’s wearing flip-flops, just as I notice his legs are tanned and muscled. Of course, that leads me to check out his arms, which are also corded with lean muscle, and the fluttering in my belly picks up its pace.
Within moments, Evan’s knocking at my front door. My dad merely takes a few steps to the side from my front window to let him in. Sirius bolts up out of his sleep when he hears we have a visitor and he tries to shoot past me. I lunge, grab onto his collar, and give him a stern, “Sit”. Miraculously, his butt hits the floor where his tail sweeps back and forth along the hardwood with excitement.
“Evan,” my dad says as he extends his hand out. “I’m Cary Peterson.”
Evan shakes my dad’s hand with a smile as he says, “It’s good to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise,” my dad says, and then he steps away from Evan toward me, his hands coming to my shoulders. “Okay, honey… I’m going to head out, but you have a great time on this trip.”
“I’m working, Dad,” I remind him primly. “It’s not a vacation.”
“Well, enjoy yourself anyway,” he chides as he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. When he pulls away, he looks at me somberly for a moment before adding on, “I’m proud of you for doing this. Trying something new.”
“I’m doing this to get a new job,” I remind him, because I had a long talk with him yesterday after Evan left, told him about this “offer of employment,” and that Evan assured me that Midge would help me secure a job in another firm when I completed my duties. He seemed neither shocked nor disappointed by this proclamation, and I suspect that’s because my dad just wants me to be happy and he knows I’m not with Knight &
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