We are driving north out of Miami, heading towards Jacksonville. The Atlantic Ocean sighs and heaves off to our right, but we seldom see it. Houses are in the way. Expensive ones, and those that would not be if not for their Florida State Road A1A location, are in the way.
“What are you going to do with the cups?” Vicki asks.
“I’m not sure.”
“But you’re going to get one from every park?”
“I’m thinking I will.”
“That’ll be nice.”
“I have an empty china cabinet.”
“Of course you do.”
We are to hold up in Jacksonville for a day or two, at the home of Vicki’s daughter and pseudo son-in-law, as she calls him with great affection, waiting on the Braves to come home. There has been talk of a drive into Savannah, and as we have each recently read ‘Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil’, which takes place there, and as it will make us feel clever and well-read, going there, we likely will.
“I like your hat pins,” I say, and she picks up her Tampa hat. I ask if she is going to get one of those from every park, and she says that she is.
“That will be my souvenir.”
And at this she lays her head on my shoulder. We remain this way for a minute, Vicki eventually sitting up and reading Doris Kearns Goodwin, while I drive.