Page 35 of Unexpected Adventures

“That’s what Denise said. Who am I to argue with her fashion sense?” I chuckle.

“I certainly wouldn’t.” He takes my hand in his. “Ready to go?”

“Sure. Both Denise and Sarah are gone, so we’ll have to lock up.”

“Will do. We’re going to borrow Jeff’s SUV. It has four-wheel drive.”

“Oh, I meant to ask about your car. Did you get it running again?”

“Briefly. It barely made it to the shop. Turns out the water pump is shot, so they had to order that, and it won’t be in until Monday. Glad my sis has a few spares when it comes to vehicles.”

“How long were you planning to stay here?”

“Possibly to mid-week. Nothing definite planned. There was another instructor able to cover for me.” He glances at me. “You said you’re heading back Monday?”

“That’s the plan. So I’ll head back early and hopefully have a better time of it with the traffic. I have two clients I see on Tuesdays and a few pooches to handle.”

“Well then, let’s go make the most of our time here. Let me text Sarah so she knows the house will be empty and locked up.”

After sending a message to Sarah and locking the patio doors, he guides me through the house to the garage. He selects a FOB to a Toyota FJ Cruiser. After setting the alarm, we load up, and off we go.

“So, still no hint as to where we’re going or what we’re doing?” I happen to glance into the back seat and notice a blanket and a few bags. “Picnic?”

He grins. “Maybe. Hope you don’t mind, but we’ve got a bit of a drive. You’re welcome to be in charge of the music. There’s satellite radio, terrestrial, and probably a selection of CD’s.”

“Alrighty then,” I say. “Any preferences?”

“Nope. It’s all you.”

I look through the CD’s, not really seeing anything of interest, so I begin to scan through the satellite channels, settling on hits from the 80’s. Pat Benatar belts out “Invincible” and I can’t help but start singing along.

“Feel free to let it go,” Shaun says. “I already know what a great singer you are.”

“Thanks.” I smile. “Feel free to join.”

Shaun drives on. After a bit on the 101, he turns onto the 130 heading northeast.

“A foothills excursion?” I ask.

“More than that,” he says cryptically.

As we continue on, I notice signs for Mt. Hamilton, elevation, 4,216 ft. I turn to Shaun, eyes a bit wide, and say, “We’re going up the mountain?”

He turns my way for only a brief look and a smile.

“Okey dokey.”

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