Ryan sat up straight in his booster seat and pointed at the roadside café Owen was just about to drive past. Owen flicked on his turn signal and slowed down. The big Ford F250 he’d bought in Tennessee obeyed with a smoothness that belied the power humming beneath the hood. He’d fallen in love with the vehicle as soon as he’d cranked the ignition on the dealer lot and had written a check faster than a were on a speed date. “Why here?” The café had a country charm to it, a big play area and an even bigger parking lot. That parking lot was surprisingly full considering the place was a couple miles away from the interstate. “Let’s have chicken for lunch. You said you’d get lunch, right?” “Huh,” Owen grunted as he pulled into a parking spot and killed the ignition. “What you’re saying is you’ve tasted my cooking.” Ryan didn’t answer and was uncharacteristically quiet as he undid his seatbelt. Owen took that as a yes. After they’d stepped out of the vehicle Ryan took Owen’s hand and tugged.