Page 40 of My Fearless Fake Fling

Eleven:

“We’re going where?” I was not nearly greasy-food drunk enough to learn that we’d be spending the next eight hours in a truck driving up to the Upper Peninsula, or what we Michiganders have affectionately nicknamed the UP.

“Relax, Kam. You’ll love it.”

“I’d love a three-hour drive better.” I protested by folding my arms across my boobs and raising an eyebrow, trying for intimidating.

But I guessed my intimidating needed more practice because he chuckled, reached over to wrap his hand around the back of my neck, and pulled me closer to him so he could kiss me.

Mmm-hmm.Kiss me.

This fake relationship would never work if he didn’t take my objections into consideration.

Though I loved the way he kissed. And I supposed it wouldn’t be so bad to spend the day driving up north with Len.

So yes, I relented. Is that not the worst? I wussed out… because ofa kiss.

Several hours into the trip, we stopped at a souvenir shop with a wooden pirate ship out front for kids to climb on. I didn’t think pirates were really a thing on the Great Lakes, but since we’d seen signs for the past ten miles telling us to make sure and stop here, we took the exit.

Len, the big kid, climbed on the pirate ship, hanging off the mast. I laughed so hard, I thought I’d pee myself as he posed for me. My hands shook and the first several pics came out blurry. The two kids waiting to climb aboard and their mother weren’t too happy with us.

Eventually, I had to drag him off.

“Come on, big boy,” I cajoled. “I’ll buy you a souvenir inside.”

His eyes, I kid not, lit up.

He wanted a Mackinaw sweatshirt, but we weren’t in Mackinaw City yet. You can’t buy a sweatshirt of a place you aren’t in. It’s an unwritten rule. One doesn’t buy a Chicago shirt when in Winnetka. As the man was a seasoned,seasonedtraveler, he should have known this. So we settled on a pirate hat and a promise that we’d stop in the city so he could get his sweatshirt.

The breeze picked up the farther north we traveled. Hot temps but chilled breeze. Welcome to paradoxical Michigan. That should be our new slogan.

I had to admit, you couldn’t beat the area for pretty. Trees, a whole lot of birch that I could see from the highway, with leaves in full forest-green grandeur.

About five miles out from the straits, the top of the Mackinaw Bridge appeared. I hadn’t been here in years and the idea of being here again got me a bit giddy. The closer we drove, the bigger the bridge appeared. I turned off the air conditioning and rolled down the windows so we could smell the lake air of mostly Lake Huron, but as Huron and Michigan joined under the bridge, it was both.

Len took the exit leading us into the downtown area of the city. Mackinaw, for those who’ve never been, is about as touristy as a city comes. But so worth it with the views of the bridge, the lakefront, the lighthouse and fort, and the port docks to take the ferry over to the island. Oh yeah, Michigan islands, especially Mackinac Island, could be considered some of the prettiest in the country.

I made a mental note to beg for us to spend at least one day on the island on our drive back. But right now, we had a mission. Well, we had four. Len just didn’t know about three of them. One: Find a sweatshirt place. Two: Eat pancakes. I mean, he could eat anything he wanted, but I desired pancakes piled with fruit, dripping with syrup, and sprayed with whipped cream. My mouth watered and my stomach grumbled thinking about that. And if I remembered correctly, Mackinaw had some delicious pancake houses. Three: Find good coffee for the next leg of our drive. Four:FUDGE. Nobody, and I mean nobody, visited Mackinaw without partaking in their so-famous-it-was-made-into-an-ice-cream fudge.

We parked in the center of the downtown and walked up one sidewalk and down the other, stopping in no less than five sweatshirt shops before he foundthe one. I mean, admittedly, it was a pretty kick-butt hoodie. Or pullover. It had this ombre effect to make it look like the sky turning from dusk to night.

For mine, I picked a pretty lavender with white lettering. Both of ours had a picture of the bridge drawn and said Mackinaw City. But mine had the added design detail of a v-neckline instead of the traditional scoop and had fake lamb’s wool on the inside for extra insulation.

That done, I dragged him to the pancake house that I remembered eating at as a kid.

And this really was why we clicked so well, when I couldn’t decide between two specialty pancakes, Len ordered one and had me order the other (along with sausage and bacon for us to share) and when it came to the table, he split them between the two of us.

“Best of both worlds,” he said.

Major crush overload.

He switched the last two missions. We found a fudge shop that smelled too good to walk away from first after spending some time walking down by the water’s edge and snapping pictures of the lighthouse and the bridge.

Our lastmissionstop, we hit up a coffee shop. Our laststopstop he filled up the gas tank and then climbed back inside the truck to start our trek over the lakes.

“Take the singing bridge side?” I asked.

“Was hoping you’d say that,” he said. “It’s one of my favorite parts.”

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