Page 2 of Thrust Me Daddy

But it’s not like I’m doing the journey totally by myself…

‘How’s it going, Atty?’ I say, turning and looking at my beloved seahorse stuffie Atty – short for Atlantic, like the ocean.

I could never imagine doing a long haul drive without Atty sitting next to me on the passenger seat. He may be a pink, green, and yellow seahorse, but Atty loves nothing more than a road trip – and he’s certainly been on enough of them with me to know!

‘Don’t worry buddy, we’ll be home soon enough,’ I giggle, reaching over and ruffling the strip of fuzzy hair at the top of his head. ‘But first, it’s time to collect this cargo and then power this big old truck all the way back to the boys.’

With that, I negotiate the final corner for a while and then put my foot down and pick up some speed as we power on toward our destination.

Maybe it’s a psychological thing, but the ride home is always feels so much quicker. And with the boys planning on going out for some beers tonight, I want to make sure that I’m back in town with enough time to spare so that I can hop into the shower and have a nice, relaxing soap and clean to freshen myself up.

‘Jeez, this ain’t good, Atty,’ I say, grumbling as the shower turns into a heavy downpour. ‘This ain’t goodat all.’

We’re about a third of the way back home and suddenly the innocent light rainfall has turned into something like a tropical monsoon.

My truck has been through more than its fair share of extreme weather over the years. I might only be twenty-six years old, but I’ve been trucking long enough to have seen the most intense heatwaves and the coldest of cold snaps too.

But this rain is something else.

Every time I think it’s about to stop, it just comes down even harder.

I’m actually at the point where I think it might be the best idea for me to pull over at the side of the road and take a break so that hopefully the rain can die down enough for me to be able to drive safely.

‘What are you thinking, Atty?’ I say, a concerned look on my face as the truck’s normally unassailable windscreen wipers struggle to keep up with the heavy, thunderously hard rain. ‘There’s a diner about half a mile away. Keep going and then take a hot chocolate break there until the weather clears?’

I smile… it’s pretty obvious that Atty istotallybehind my idea to stop for some hot chocolate. A good stuffie always knows what’s best for his special boy, right?

‘You got it!’ I chuckle. ‘Next stop, hot choccy and maybe a cookie too…’

Despite seriously reducing my speed due to the horrible downpour, it doesn’t take long before I’m pulling into the diner’s parking lot.

I put Atty safely in my backpack and make a quick dash from the truck and into the diner.

Despite the fact that I run pretty much as fast as my heavily muscled body can carry me, I still end up getting soaked.

Luckily for me though, I’m a fairly well known face in the diner…

‘My big boy got all wet!’ Cheryl-Anne cackles, a broad smile on her face. ‘Don’t worry, Mikey, I’ll fetch you a towel to dry yourself on.’

‘Thank you, Cheryl-Anne,’ I say, wiping my face dry only for more rain to drip down from my closely cropped but still thick dark-brown hair. ‘I think I’m going to need that towel.’

Cheryl-Anne laughs and quickly pops back to the staff area behind the counter before returning with a suitably fluffy white towel for me to use.

‘Now, you get dry and I’ll bring over the menu,’ Cheryl-Anne says. ‘Look, your favorite booth is free too. I guess we must have known you were coming today.’

I smile and walk over to the booth on the opposite end of the diner.

With the large window that looks out onto the parking lot and then the mountain range in the distance, I love this spot more than any other in the diner.

There’s something about the panoramic view that makes each sip of my drink and bite of my food taste even better.

Speaking of which, it’s probably time that I ordered.

‘Usual?’ Cheryl-Anne says, hollering over from the counter as I turn to face in that direction.

‘Yeah!’ I laugh, not surprised that Cheryl-Anne is one step ahead of me. ‘Maybe with some extra-’

‘Marshmallows on the hot chocolate?’ Cheryl-Anne interjects, yet again proving why she’s the best diner owner and server I’ve probably ever encountered. ‘Be right with you. Just have to finish another order first.’

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