The last of the four doors closed, and Jay heard seat belts clicking.
“Everybody ready? We’ve all gone to the loo, gotten a last drink, got everything we have to have for the coming week?”
He was rewarded with affirmatives from the others in the minivan.
“Okay, then, we’re ready to go.” He pulled out his phone and began to speak into it. “Captain’s log. Day one, zero hour.”
“Dad, what are you doing?” Jayson asked.
Jay stopped recording. “I’m going to make a log of our entire vacation experience.”
“What for?”
“Yeah, why do you wanna do that?” Molly asked.
So that when we get home, utterly exhausted and angry with each other, I’ll be able to pinpoint the precise moment this stupid, damn, expensive, unnecessary vacation went off the rails, he didn’t say.
“It’s just what I want to do.” He pointed around the seats. “Your mother said she wanted to go to Florida this year. The two of you insisted that somewhere include Disney World. So you’re all getting something you want. I simply want to make a log of our travels. That can’t be too much to ask, right?”
The children shrugged, and Malinda smiled encouragingly at him.
Jay started over. “Captain’s log. Day one, zero hour. The van is set and we’re pulling out of the driveway headed to Orlando, Florida, on our family vacation.”
He put the phone back in his shirt pocket and started the van.
Though he later spent a month listening to it, the log didn’t help Jay figure out where the vacation had gone off the rails. He should have started recording when he said, “Fine, we’ll drive a thousand damn miles and go to Florida.”
