Don't I Know You?

Now that we were all together and in one piece I checked my phone; five thirty-four. Yikes! That only gave us a few minutes to get our things packed for the trip to Moms for the funeral. It seemed odd to call it Mom's place instead of Mom and Dad's. She sounded terrible on the phone earlier and I wasn't looking forward to Beanie telling her about our almost fatal swim. She had enough to fret about.

"Okay, girls, chop-chop! We have to take showers and get dressed for the trip to Gigi's. I'll pack some snacks and then we're off."

"Mommy, I just had a bath. Do I have to take a shower?" Beanie whined.

"No, Sweetie, you can take a nap while Katie and I get ready," I told her as we hustled off to the RV.

Todd's truck was in front of Mike's RV, the music was cranked up, and the RV was rocking in time with the bass. I didn't bother them. I put Beanie down for a nap, then collected clothes for the week and snacks for the trip. Katie was stepping out of the shower while I hauled everything to the VW.

After loading the trunk with our luggage, I slipped into the shower and was shocked at the mud that poured out of my hair and down the drain. Oh, my God! I'd been walking around all afternoon looking like a Kracken. Lovely.

Poor Beanie was exhausted. I hoped she would sleep all the way to Binghamton. It was the best thing for her.

Mike knocked tentatively on the door before I brought the girls to the car. "Hey! What did the hospital say? Are you girls all right?"

"I'm so glad to see you before we left for the funeral! We are fine. Beanie has a sore wrist and I may have a sprained ankle. Compared to what could have happened, I suppose that's a good deal."

"I'll say. I still can't believe she swam by herself to the pier. That's just nuts! Hey, Jeff, Todd, that Trooper and I came up with some cash for your trip. You shouldn't drive the whole way tonight. If I were you, I'd find a place on the way to spend a few hours resting. Here," he said, handing me a pile of bills. "It's not much, but it's enough for a room and some gas."

"Thank you! That's so sweet of you to do that. Right now I'm runnng on adrenaline and caffeine. As soon as they wear off, you may have a point. I'm taking Route 11 in case Betsey gives me a hard time. There must be a dozen hotels or motels on the way," I said.

"Katie! Can you wake Beanie? We have to leave now," I hollered in at Katie, as I hauled out the shopping bags full of snacks.

Katie came waddling out of the RV with Beanie on her little seven-year-old hip, nuzzling her sister's neck and kissing her head. "I'm never, never ever letting you out of my sight again, Beanie-beans. I was so scared for you!"

"I lub you too, Katie-did. I won't ever be bad again," she promised.

Mike gave the girls uncle hugs and gave me a full-on, not an uncle hug, glancing behind him at his RV, while doing so. "Be careful, Karol. I'll keep my cell phone on tonight. Call me anytime you get sleepy or if you have car trouble. I mean it!"

We made a right out of the camp parking lot and began our great adventure. Beanie fell asleep before we found our way to Route 11 and Katie followed shortly after. The radio hadn't worked in forever, so it was blissfully peaceful as the highway wound through small farm communities in the North Country.

People are always surprised to hear that New York has as many dairy cows per rural acre as states like Pennsylvania or Wisconsin. I have to laugh when people ask me if there are skyscrapers or subways where I live. Nope. Just cow shit.

Digging a bologna and cheese sandwich out of the bag on the passenger seat, I munched on it, washing it down with Kool-Aid that I had mixed for the girls. By the time we had passed through the maze that was Route 11 in Watertown, my eyes were getting sleepy. Determined to make it as far as Cortland tonight, I kept going.

It was nearing eight o'clock when we passed through North Syracuse and momentarily got lost on the Route 81 exchange in Syracuse. I stayed on 81 until we exited the city, looking for Route 11 markers. No way was this car going to keep up with traffic on a big highway.

In Lafayette, we found an entrance to Route 11 and I sighed in relief. Tractors hauling hay bales were more my speed. Katie woke up and asked what there was to eat. I passed the snack bag to her and she pulled out a sandwich for herself and one for Beanie, should she wake up.

I passed the Kool-Aid container to her and kept driving, looking ahead for roadside motels. My eyelids were drooping and I found myself staring instead of looking. A distinct difference you only notice when you're driving.

When I didn't dare drive any further, I pulled into a Days Inn, just North of Cortland. It looked clean and well-kept. With the extra cash Mike had given me, we could afford it. The only problem was they required a credit card. I would hang onto the cash, and deposit it when we got home. Fortunately, I had one credit card in my name that was still in good standing since Frank had dumped us.

After signing in, the girls waited in the lobby while I hauled our luggage inside. We were on the second floor with a balcony overlooking the parking lot, which would soon be problematic.