The Concord Breakfast

In the hotel room, Dad curses from the kitchen as Seth and I enter. Ambrosial wafts of bacon and paprika engulf me, making my stomach growl. We stroll into the kitchen area, startling Dad as he hunches over the stovetop, battling the spitting oil armed only with a pan lid, a spatula, and a towel slung over his tartan-clad shoulder.

"Olivia," Dad calls, smiling wide though his brows are kinked with stress. He places the pan lid over the spattering bacon, almost silencing the simmering. "I was wondering where you got off to."

I gesture to Seth. "We went for a walk."

Dad flickers his stare over Seth, then turns his attention to the sink, looking everywhere but at Seth's face. "I didn't realize you were gonna stay the night, Seth. I wouldn't have gone to bed so early. I could've had the couch made up for you."

Dad's face deepens to a boiled pink and he tugs at the collar of his shirt as if it's too tight. I peer sideways at Seth who swallows hard. How does he know Seth stayed? Did he leave