Van

"Do you ever feel ready - like this is the moment?" Eric asked when she got home. Harlow paused. "I'm-going-on-the-lam-so-get-the-van kind of ready?" she asked, catching the vibe and noticing two large "go" bags waiting by the coat closet door in the hallway. "I sold the Jeep and bought said van," he replied calmly. "The conversion is custom; it has a tiny fireplace, full-sized bed, and a functioning toilet." As if on cue, Pirate wagged his tail from his place on the living room sofa. Harlow didn't move; she was thinking about a life away from fluorescent bulbs and a slow death by exposure to drivel. "Can you give me until Sunday to spiral emotionally and then pack in a blind, dithering panic?" she asked, feeling a tingle of resolve. "Yes," Eric replied calmly, "I got you. It'll give me a bit of time to finish installing the recessed tiny ceiling lights." Harlow put her bag down and dropped her coat alongside. "Now, you're just flirting with me," she responded, with a smile that was ever so slightly feral.