I awoke to the tilting sensation you get when somebody sits on your bed. I rolled over and blinked until my vision worked through the darkness to my father, who sat there in his blue work shirt and jeans, grinning the soft grin he saved for his daughters.
Jacob had a brown mop of hair and a round figure. I figured him to be ten years old. He had that ten-year-old smell, like cheese crackers mixed with unbridled curiosity. And then something amazing happened. Jacob read my mind.
My hands grip the steering wheel at 10 and 2, my eyes focus on the road, but my mind reels back through the years to seventh grade when holding hands was a big deal.
Instead of funding my 401K, I invest in concert tickets…. I know it seems absurd to spend money to find a way to escape from it. But I’m doing it anyway.