Page 27 of Fall in Kentbury

Mac:

Yes, we found a place where we can volunteer. It’s our last trip together before I head west.

Bishop:

What happened with the sale of your condo?

Mac:

Dad gave up, and I was able to sell it—twenty percent above the asking price. Can you believe it? I could even buy a van and start the van-life.

Bishop:

Would you?

Mac:

Nope. I’m not really a camping person. My definition of camping was a tent in the middle of the living room with my friends.

Mac:

Somehow, I have the feeling your silence means that you’re judging me. Are you an outdoorsy kind of guy? Of course, you are. In my defense, my parents’ definition of slumming it is staying at a four-star hotel.

Bishop:

I’m judging you. You’re a snob.

Mac:

No, I was raised by parents who live in a different reality. In a few months, I might surprise you, though.

Bishop:

How?

Mac:

Well, as you know, we’re going to South America to volunteer. We’re not staying at the Ritz-Carlton, but tents and sleeping bags. Wish me luck.

Bishop:

When are you leaving?

Mac:

Next week.

Bishop:

Text me so I know you’re okay.

Mac:

I’ll try, but remember I’m going to be away from civilization.

Bishop:

I’m impressed, City Girl.

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