Impossibilities

The next morning, Gerri finds her brother sitting at the breakfast table in his usual spot at the usual time.

"What's new?" Frank asks, spreading a thin layer of butter across his toast, brown and crisp. The knife makes a satisfactory scratching sound. Frank's dogs gather at his feet in response, sniffing the air.

"Quit my job." Gerri pulls out a chair and flops into it, her eyes gleaming.

Frank lifts his eyebrows at this. "I hope you're joking."

"Nope." She grins and breaks off a piece from Frank's toast. It makes a loud crunching between her teeth not unlike the grinding of her teeth when her boss was being overly-demanding.

"I always eat two slices of toast in the morning, Gerri."

She shrugs. "So?"

"So you just took some. Now I won't get the full two slices."

She makes a face. "So toast some more!"

"No." He sighs and shoves his plate away. "I'm really surprised at you, Gerri."

"It was a stinking piece of toast, Frank."

He glances at the clock hanging over the kitchen sink. Seven o'four. "Although I shouldn't be: Newly divorced. Kids out of the nest. You're searching for something."

"Already found it." Gerri whips a map of the United States from her back pocket and slaps it on the table. "I'm going for a walk."

"You don't need to quit your job to take a walk."

"You do if it's a three thousand mile walk."

"Three thousand miles."

She grins and unfolds the map. Pink highlighter runs from one coast to the other."Boston to Los Angeles."

Frank rubs his forehead. This day is not going according to plan.

"You've got a crumb," Gerri points. "Just there on your forehead."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why not?"

He studies her for a moment.

"You can't think of a reason." Her voice is singsong. A daring.

"Your safety," he says. "Your health. How will you eat? Where will you sleep?"

"I'm selling everything." She folds the map and stands. "I'll take my time; meet as many people as I can." She grins, puts out her hand. "Come with me."

For a moment, he is tempted. "No." He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I'll miss my toast. I'll miss my dogs. Besides..." He meets her eye. "You'll never do it. It's just not possible."

She sighs. "Thank you Frank. I needed to hear that."

He nods, the ever-faithful elder brother. He is glad to see his sister has come to her senses. "You're welcome Gerri."

Frank accompanies her to the door. "See you next week, then?"

"No."

"Why not?" Frank glances at her. "Oh, don't be angry, Gerri."

"I'm not angry. I'll be away."

"Where you going?"

"I told you. I'm going walking."

"But I just said...You..."

"Impossible is not a definite, Frank. It's a dare." She grins. "See you in California? Six months or so?"

Frank watches his sister skip down the stairs before returning to the kitchen to put on another slice of toast.

For the Scriptic.org prompt exchange this week, Kir at http://www.thekircorner.com gave me this prompt: Impossible is not a definite, It's a dare.

I gave SAM at http://frommywriteside.wordpress.comthis prompt: You're (or a character is) planning your garden. What do you plant? Why?

Kelly Garriott Waite on Google+