Gold!
Copyright© 2026 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 3
I was packing when daddy asked, “Where are you going?”
“Florida.” I said.
And the twins, seniors in the local high school, said, like the twins they are, “Spring Break? You didn’t tell us. We wanna go.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
With a certain smugness and TOTAL satisfaction, I said, “No room.”
Daddy gave me such a look. Then he looked at my former Air Force Suburban that seats 6 and has room left for luggage. “There’s room.”
This has been an ongoing... 22 years ... argument...
I live at home. Since I live at home, daddy thinks he still controls me. Understand, I live at home because it’s safer. It’s not like I can’t afford my own place ... I can. I am moderately pretty, heir to a reasonable chunk of land ... with gravel ... and built like nobody’s business. Tourist season is not safe for my looks. Summer is, difficult ... and hunting season? Idiots ... eastern idiots, with guns and privilege “I’m important, missy. Spread ‘em.” If I feel like an after work drink ... I go home to drink it.
“I’m not driving,” I said. “I’m flying. Before you say it ... it’s a private aircraft and I’ll be gone the whole month. There are seven of us going.” I stopped there...
I could see daddy running through the list of flying ranchers and who would have a big enough aircraft to fly seven girls to Florida and did this have a happy ending? Like marriage?
While he was still thinking ... I slammed doors and climbed into the drivers seat and rumbled away. It the college I parked next to Karens monster Dodge.
Karen ... Hilda ... Amy. No Dean Davis. A raised eyebrow directly at Amy.
“He has chores mom is expecting any second. He can’t go.” The ‘thank god’ was looked but unspoken.
We waited ... and waited ... and played hackysack while waiting some more. 35 minutes ... the four were 35 minutes late. I knew Sue ... she’s from Buffalo. The other three ... sorority ... fer sure. They had luggage ... lots of luggage. Most of it got parked in my Suburban.
Karen said something about weight and fuel cost and mostly put her foot down. That’s why my Sub was a closet.
Finally ... we went ... in Karen’s Dodge ... I ought to explain about Karen’s Dodge ... it’s BIG and the 12 gauge slug hole in the drivers side of the windshield is a conversation piece that caused ... tension ... and then ... out of the blue Karen said, “I know.” Just like she was answering a question that nobody asked.
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