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Thirty-Three
Welcome to texas.
The Lone Star State flag greets us from a highway sign as we cross the border. Yee-freaking-haw.
“Home sweet home, huh?” Nick says as Bruce Springsteen sings “I’m on Fire” on the stereo.
“Something like that,” I say, staring out at the long stretch of two-lane highway in front of us. No matter how this place makes me feel, Texas is my home. Sure, I had my reasons for staying away so long. But driving in this Jeep on I-20, I’m not sure if they were good ones anymore.
I take a deep breath as we ease into the state. That’s when I spot the real welcome sign. “Oh my god, did you see that?” I practically jump out of my seat.
“See what?”
“The sign for Whataburger.”
“Whata-what?” Nick spits out.
“What-A-Bur-Ger.” Maybe he’ll understand that. “I told you about it. Best burger in the world. Can we go? Pleeeeaaassse!” I bounce in my seat like a little kid who’s just seen the sign for Disney World.
Nick chuckles, watching me wiggle with excitement. “Okay, water burger it is.”
“You make fun of the name now but soon you’ll be singing a different tune, my friend.”
“You are the burger queen.”
“That I am.”
Seeing the orange-and-white w sign when we pull into the parking lot almost brings tears to my eyes. Almost. It’s been too long.
“So this is it, huh?” Nick asks, underwhelmed.
“C’mon, lunch is on me.” Nick’s been uber generous this trip. Now it’s my turn to treat him to a real Texas burger. The smell of those delicious grilled patties brings me back as I saunter up to the counter.
“Welcome to Whataburger, what can I get you?” the cashier in a bright orange polo asks.
“Yeah, can I get a double meat, a bacon and cheese, fries, an order of onion rings, and two chocolate milkshakes?”
“Yes, ma’am! Will that be all?”
“Throw in a sweet tea.” We’re in Texas, after all. The cashier tallies up the order and I hand over the cash.
“You’re ordering for me?” Nick asks.
“Trust me, this is my burgerhood, okay? I know best.” We take our table number and find a booth along the window.
I look out over the trees across the parking lot to that open blue sky. It’s funny, even though we’re in a tiny town outside of Longview, somehow I feel like I’m around the corner from my dad’s neighborhood. Like he’s just a few blocks away and I can see him anytime. Ask him anything I want.
Too bad that isn’t true. And it’ll never be true again.
“So what part of Texas are you from?” he asks.
“Someplace you’ve never heard of.” Why start with all the geography questions when it doesn’t actually matter.
“Is it near here?”
I shake my head. “No, but we’ll pass it on the way to El Paso.”
“Well, maybe we’ll drop in and have a little burger visit there if you want.”
