Bicentennial Summer

Rendezvousing at Wall Drug

The next morning, we untangled ourselves from our cramped positions in Blue Pierre; we had parked on a secluded dead-end road and slept for the night. Dad called this car-camping. I struggled out of my sleeping bag and rolled it up. Pressing the button on the trunk to pop it open, I could hear the Big Sioux River nearby, and after cramming the sleeping bag in, I did a big stretch. The rest of the family followed suit, and we were ready to find a bathroom.

Dad offered to take us out to breakfast. That was unusual. He generally didn’t like to spend money at restaurants. Well, actually, he generally didn’t like to spend money at all. We were accustomed to fashioning meals on the road from the contents of the basket and the cooler, which somehow was never that cool. The ice seemed to melt so quickly, and our cheeses were always sweaty.

“We should call this a luke-warmer, not a cooler,” I joked.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Dad retorted while the twins twittered their appreciation of my joke. “Let’s go out for breakfast, and we’ll remember to ask the restaurant for some ice to get our cooler back to being a cooler. Plus, we need some ice for Blue Pierre’s water pump.”

We decided to leave Blue Pierre in the shade and went for a walk in search of an economical breakfast. It was our lucky day because a new  Sambo’s restaurant franchise had opened the day before on the corner of  Tenth and Thompson. There were banners advertising its grand opening, and it was crowded. We had to wait ten minutes until a table opened up, which was the perfect amount of time for us to go into their bathroom and brush our teeth and hair and wash up. They had a coupon for a free  Wham-O Fastback Frisbee with any purchase. We chose a blue one and admired the cartoon tiger licking its chops that was imprinted on the top. Pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs made up our meals. Dad even let us order orange juice.

The twins and I didn’t waste any time tucking in. The melted butter and hot syrup drizzled over my pancakes felt like an elixir, especially when washed down by a sip of tart orange juice. It wasn’t as nice as Mrs. Gardener’s breakfast, though. It tasted just as good, sure, but I still ached for Meredith and our new friendship. I soothed myself by thinking about our postcards and figured maybe we’d at least be pen pals. Either way, I was just glad to have met her, and that wouldn’t have been possible if we hadn’t embarked on our Great American Road Trip. I opened my mouth to express my gratitude for this trip once again, to reiterate how happy I was that we were finally doing this, but Dad beat me to the punch.

“Can you believe we’re doing this, Mare?” He paused and then added, “Twins?” His eyes were wide and his brows raised. “We’re actually taking the Great American Road Trip!” He had a piece of sausage speared on his fork. “Consider how many things we’ve seen already, and it’s still only the very beginning.”

“I was just about to say that, Dad,” I began, but before I could continue, he had waved down our waitress, Laura, to say, “Laura, this has to be the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.” He splayed his hand over his chest to express his conviction, and I scowled, following Laura’s line of sight to the mug of drip coffee to which he was referring.

Laura and I seemed to realize the same thing at once: this wasn’t about the coffee.

I sat back in the booth, bracing myself. Suddenly, the acidity of the orange juice wasn’t agreeing with me anymore. As predicted, Dad gave Laura an open once-over, eyes hovering at her bare legs for a few seconds too long.

“That ruffled apron really does suit you, doesn’t it?” he said, flashing an oily smile that was only artificially reciprocated by the waitress. I saw her eyes dart to his wedding band. “It looks very smart over your long legs. You’ve got stunning legs.”

I shrunk down lower on the smooth red vinyl booth bench.

“Can I get you anything else?” She ignored his compliment. “Girls? Everything okay with your breakfasts?” We nodded and kind of hung our heads. I took a deep breath, trying to settle my system so that I could enjoy this meal. Dad smiled broadly, clueless.