Page 180 of The Vacation Mix-Up
“In a hurry, are we?”
“No. It’s just… hot, and I don’t want the cows to bother us.”
“I think it’s the other way around. Us being here bothers them.”
“We should’ve just caught the shuttle bus,” she mutters.
Narrowing my eyes, I suspect her agitation has something to do with her boss, but I bite my tongue, knowing if I suggest such a thing, she’ll more than likely direct that agitation at me. Plus, I’d rather distract her from what she just read and bring her attention back to why we’re here.
“Have you always wanted to come to Stonehenge?” I ask.
“No, not really.” Her smile is crooked. “I mean, yes. I’ve always wanted to travel and see the world, but it was never a priority. Only a dream.”
I splay my arm out, emphasizing where we are. “It’s no longer a dream, Riles. You’re here.”
“I know,” she deadpans.
“So live in the moment. Enjoy it.”
“I am enjoying it.”
We exit the field and step onto a path, the Stone Age relics peculiar among the desolate landscape, yet also strangely fitting.
“I thought they’d be bigger,” she says as she steps up to an information plaque.
I read the description. “Given when they were constructed, I’d say they’re big enough.”
“You’re right.” She scratches her head. “How on earth were they moved back then?”
“Isn’t that one of the mysteries?”
“Yeah. There are, of course, assumptions based on archaeological findings, but they really don’t know for sur—” Her cell beeps again, interrupting her cute history lesson, and she grumbles.
I side-eye her. “Do I even need to ask who that is?”
“No. It’s Georgia.”
“And…?”
“Before I went to bed last night, I sent her two of the manuscripts she wanted me to work through, and instead of thanking me, she’s now asking where the other two are. The thing is, when she originally gave me the time off, she requested that I only do two.Not four.”
“So, ignore her.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. You just switch your cell off.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not,” she says, moving along to the next plaque.
“So she’s expecting you to complete another two manuscripts in… what? Two days?” I ask, following her.
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
