I can’t fall back asleep. “Death of a Bachelor” on repeat in my head. It’s almost time for him to get up anyway.

He leaves in an Uber, a red Chrysler 300. I think that man is the same one who took me to the airport for Fever Dreams. I’m glad that this will be the last time the five of us will have to spend so much time apart. They won’t see him for 7 days. I’m grateful that this is not us every week like it is some other families.

I pick up the bedrooms and give the bathrooms a good cleaning. Down in the basement, I light the sage and grab the feather. Corner to corner. When I get upstairs, the kids ask to help. The littlest one takes the bundle and then the feather. He looks so proud of himself. I direct him to the corners of the rooms. Then she asks for a turn. “So this makes everyone feel better?” Yeah, yeah, it kinda does.

“It tastes like Jesus on the first day of His resurrection.”

The leaves are changing and some are falling from the limbs as the wind gusts. We make our way on the wooded paths. I take her to Big Rock. “Gina took me here once. It’s beautiful back there,” I tell her. We are lost. It will take us another 40 minutes to get back to the visitor center. But its time well spent. 6.5 miles.

I’m glad I’m making time for this.

I can’t help but mourn the loss of this particular friendship. But I also understand that there is a season for everything. And if, right now, the steps are just not lining up, then maybe it’s best to journey separately.

Wasting time during the inspection. Snack buying. Long pant buying (because I honestly thought we were going to be gone before the cold came. Costume browsing. Dinner buying.

I eat the rest of his cheeseburger with a knife and fork—and a glass of Malbec.

6:25 and I think I’m ready to call it a night. Shower and then all the laundry while The House on Haunted Hill plays in the background. 25 days to go.