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“Yeah, Mama’s awake,” I murmured, groaning as I stretched.
“More,” he said, his face still inches from mine. “Rhett hungry.”
“You’re hungry?” I replied in mock surprise as I sat up. “No way.”
“Yes way,” Rhett countered, his tone an almost perfect match to mine.
“Why don’t we get dressed?” I pulled him onto my lap. “And then when we get in the car, I’ll find you a breakfast bar.”
“Hungry.”
“Yes, I know,” I mused, setting him on his feet. “You want to try and go potty? Your pull up is still dry.”
“No,” he replied easily, wandering off to check out the hotel room.
“You ready to see where me and Grandpa and Grandma used to live?” I asked, getting to my feet.
“Grandma,” he murmured, pulling at the nightstand drawer.
“Yup.” I got ready quickly while Rhett was occupied, and when I came out of the bathroom he was standing by the door.
“Ready,” he announced.
“Let’s get some pants on first, yeah?” I said with a laugh. “You’ll be cold if you don’t put some clothes on.”
“Ready,” he replied stubbornly, staying by the door.
“Come on, buddy,” I said, ignoring the mutinous look on his face. “We’ll hurry.”
He sighed heavily, making my mouth twitch in amusement, and stomped toward me. “Clothes on.”
“You want to wear your car shirt?” I asked, letting him pull it out of my hand while I searched for some pants. “That one’s your favorite, huh?”
“Car shirt,” he said, hugging it. I’d had to ration the amount he wore it because I was so afraid that he’d wear it out before he was ready to give it up. Kind of like his blanket.
“Rhett, grab your blanket right now and bring it to Mama, okay?”
“Okay,” he said immediately. He wasn’t taking any chances that we’d leave it behind again.
Fifteen minutes later, we were stepping out of our motel room and into the cool spring sunshine.
“Cold, Mama,” Rhett said in confusion, looking up at the sun through his sunglasses.
“It doesn’t get hot here until the summer, buddy,” I replied, resettling him on my hip. Even after almost two weeks of no problems, my eyes still scanned the parking lot, watching for anything out of place.
“Brr.”
“Right now it’s spring,” I said as I unlocked the car and threw our bag on the back seat. “And spring is cold in Oregon.”
I kept up a running conversation as I buckled him into his seat and grabbed him a breakfast bar and a water bottle. I’d done it since he was a baby, discussing things that were way outside of his understanding, describing what we were doing, pointing out things I thought would interest him. I wasn’t sure why I did it, maybe because I’d never really had anyone else to talk to. As he got older, he replied to most things I said, even if he wasn’t sure what I was talking about. I liked to think that was why his vocabulary was so good, because I never shut up.
“Thank you,” he said as I finally finished describing the Oregon weather.
“You’re welcome,” I said, brushing his hair away from his face. “You know, you’re my best friend.”
“My best friend,” he replied happily, smiling with breakfast bar in his teeth.
“Just another short drive, and we’ll be there.”
