Copyright 2010 H.A. Olsen
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Okay, I’ll admit it—renting a car and driving from Atlanta to Charleston wasn’t my brightest idea. After all, I could have charted a jet and made the trip in no time, saving myself the hassle of traveling on a busy interstate on one of the busiest days of the year—the Friday before the Fourth of July. But I thought a few hours on the road might be a good way to reconnect with my sixteen year-old daughter, Sara, whom I hadn’t seen in weeks. So I rented a Jag, hit the open highway, and now found myself zipping along at the breakneck speed of twenty-five miles per hour, thanks to an accident on the opposite side of the road that had everyone slowing down to gawk.
“This is ridiculous,” I said to Sara as the car in front of me slammed on its brakes. “It’s going take forever to get to the coast at this rate.”
She glanced up from the IPod sitting on her lap. Tucking a strand of sun-bleached hair behind her ear, she asked, “Did you say something, Mom?”