Topsail Island Tango

“I’ll be so damn glad when we’re out of the South, nobody knows how to drive down here, there’s not a damn thing to do and everybody is so damn slow.”

She watched him crush the beer can in his hand and toss it into the back seat. Turning, he winked at her and strode toward the hotel lobby.

“Wait here, get back in the car, wait here,” he repeated.

Mim watched him enter the lobby and wondered if he really meant all he said. She hoped it was only the beer talking. Did he really hate the South? She was a southerner. The squishy feeling of confusion swept over her again.