ravenna_c_tan

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

We were a three vehicle caravan still. Digger headed off for New York in his rental but Jonathan’s hatchback joined us. Bart and I both rode with him, which was fun. J was very easy to get along with and I got the feeling Bart genuinely liked him, too.

The drive to DC was so short in comparison to what we’d been doing each day that we were shocked to arrive so early in the day and find our rooms not ready. Everyone milled around with little heaps of luggage except me — I tagged along behind Carynne as she sought out the manager. Carynne went for the jugular when she found him and we only waited maybe fifteen minutes in the lobby before he gave her keys and had upgraded us to the presidential suite. (Digger would have been proud.) As she accepted the keys and switched her expression from tangled annoyance to California smile, she saw me out of the corner of her eye. She pressed a key into my hand.

“So, tell me, is Señor McCabe rooming with us?”

“I, ouch. I don’t know.”

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