Page 118 of DadBod

ELIZABETH

“How much longer?”Ryann whines from the passenger seat.

“Coldwater is sixteen miles away.”

“Finally.”

I’d laugh if it were funny, but the kid has been whining nonstop.

“I’m hungry.”

I could eat too. “We’ll get some fast food when we get to Coldwater.”

“Fast food? That’s bad for you.”

“Get a salad.”

“A fast-food salad?” Ryann makes a gagging noise. “Gross.”

Glancing at my sidekick, I tell her how I feel: “Gee, you’re super fun to take on road trips. Next time let’s drive even further. I can’t wait to listen to you complain the entire way.” Sarcasm. It’s awesome.

“Sorry.” From the tone of her voice, I think she really means it.

“I know this isn’t a fun trip, but you wanted to come along.”

“Are we going to do anything fun?”

No. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Swim? Shop?”

“Sure. We can do those things.” I’m not sure where we’ll swim, and I have no extra money to shop, but I’m pretty sure Rome gave her a bunch of cash. At least she can buy a few things for herself. Several minutes later, I hit the blinker. “We’re here.”

“Finally.”

“I’ll see if there’s a restaurant that’s good enough for your sophisticated palette.”

That was supposed to be funny, but Ryann doesn’t laugh. Instead, she says, “Good.”

Teenagers. Ugh.

I drive around Coldwater, Michigan, for what seem like hours, searching for a restaurant that appeals to Ryann. I give up after she refuses to “step foot in a place called Stoagies.” What an elitist.

Pulling into the parking lot of Coldwater Garden Family Restaurant, I find a spot, put the car into park, and shut off the vehicle.

“What are we doing here?”

“Eating.”

“Here?” Ryann squeaks.

“Here.” Reaching behind me, I grasp my purse. “I’ve eaten here several times. It’s not bad.”

“Not. Bad?”

That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I laugh. And laugh.

“What?” Ryann crosses her arms across her chest. That gesture makes me laugh even harder.

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