“Sure they will, son.” He didn’t sound as if he believed me.
I wasn’t sure if I believed me.
“Check out the radio, Dad. I get Sirius!”
He reached for the dial and fiddled with the stations, and I listened absently as they switched from the ‘60s to the ‘70s to the ‘80s, from jazz to opera to Broadway show tunes. Finally he seemed to settle on a station.
“Dad?” I risked another glance, quick, surprised. He was staring out the window. “Since when have you been into rap?”
“Ty, I’m not about to ask if you’re sure you’re on the right road, but is this a shortcut? None of this looks familiar to me.”
“This is the way.” Was that what had him distracted? Did he think I’d get us lost? Well, I had been known to lose my way coming home from school, but geez, I’d only been six then. “Trust me. See
