Page 108 of Flirtasaurus
Ralph turns the ignition, and the engine roars to life. And I do mean “roars.” Ain’t nothing quiet about this car.
“Amazing, Ken, thank you. What do I owe ya?”
“Eh! Not a thing, kid. You just get my baby girl home safe, and we’re even.”
“That I can do.”
“And I’m good, but I’m notthatgood, so promise me you’ll take your ole Vulva into the shop for a thorough workup as soon as you can?”
Ralph chokes on his own spit. “Um. Yeah. Yes. I can do that too.”
“Atta boy.” Dad winks and slaps him on the back through the open driver’s side window. “And feel free to call me if you get into any other situations on the ride back.”
“Will do.”
Then Dad turns to me.
“I’ll give Mom a call later today, okay?”
“Alright, kid. You be good.”
He gives me a quick hug with his signature pat on the back, the one that’s always just a smack too hard.
He gets in his own car, and just before he’s about to pull away, I pop my head through his open passenger side window. “Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah, Lopey girl.”
“It was really nice talking to you this morning. Listening to you. Can we… do it again sometime, maybe?”
He smiles.
“Sure, kid. Now let me get the hell outta here. I’m a busy man.”
I smile back at him and give him a small wave as he drives off.
When I hop into Ralph’s car, I find that he’s placed my bag down by my feet and already checked us out of our roach-infested, cardboard-mattressed, surprisingly romantic-as-hell motel.
Resting my head back on the seat, I close my eyes and sigh.
“Home?” I ask, rolling my head to the left to see his sweet face.
“Actually,” he says a bit nervously. “What would you say to a mini-road trip of sorts before officially heading back?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Relax, you’re going to like it. I promise.”
“We haven’t known each other that long, Mr. Confident. How can you be so sure of that?”
“Because whether it’s been a short time or not… I know you.”
“Okay,” I say with a smile because I’m finding that he does. More than anyone, it seems.
“Hey, uh, when were you going to tell me you got the dig gig with Dr. Knowles this summer?”
“Ha, the ‘dig gig.’ I like that.”
