Keeping His Thoughts

The Jaguar's headlights cut a yellow beam across a dark road. Jason and Pop were largely quiet. Other than the occasional car, the road was theirs alone. Pop tried to strike up a conversation a couple times, but Jason's unenthusiastic responses were enough to deter much talking. It had seemed to Jason that his life had come together and fallen apart all within a day or so. He still wasn't sure how to feel about any of this, and refused to discuss it. He wasn't yet ready. If hindsight is indeed 20/20, then he needed to wait. More than once he'd been overwhelmed by a situation only to find it ridiculously simple after a good night's rest. That pragmatic perspective didn't prevent his melancholy, although it did mitigate it somewhat.

When the silence had gone on for a while, Pop spoke. "We're meeting your mother for coffee tonight."

Jason involuntarily sighed, regretted it immediately, but didn't try to recant. "Alright." He looked across furtively. Pop didn't seem offended.

As if to expel the mounting anxiety, Jason drew a deep breath through his nose and let it out at length, leaning simultaneously back into his seat. Not good enough. He ratcheted his seat back, harsher than intended and it clacked loudly. Unsatisfied he lowered the seat farther, then dropped it entirely. He closed his eyes.

A fit of quiet titters seized him. Dracula?