That quieted both of them for a second. I kept driving, letting the road stretch instead of looping back to where we’d already been. Going in circles doesn’t give me anything new. What I need now is direction.
“I want to go back to the motel,” Mom said after a moment. “I need a break. We’ve been moving around too much.”
“You’ve been sitting,” I said. “That’s not exactly exhausting. We haven’t even started pushing yet.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not tired,” she said. “You don’t get to decide how I feel. This isn’t just about you.”
Dad shifted again, slower this time, his hand pressing briefly against his side before he leaned forward.
“I need a minute,” he said. “Let’s just stop for a bit.”
That changed things. Not the situation, not what needs to be done, just the direction we’re taking
