Although they wanted to linger in bed -- they'd had to get going.

Gently pulling away from him, she slid out of his bed, "It's extremely cold in Wisconsin right now so you might want to bring warm clothes and a jacket."

"Right," he said, rising from his bed. "With the snow and freezing weather, I think we should take your car instead of mine."

"That's fine," she said.

She joined him at the closet, where he picked out the clothing he needed for their trip. He pulled out a black suitcase and set it on the bed. She helped him fold and arrange his clothing in his suitcase.

He went into the bathroom and packed his razor, comb, cologne and other personal hygiene items into a small black bag. He returned to the bedroom and threw the bag in with the scripts and plays he was reviewing for auditions he had in the new year that he'd packed in his black backpack.

He zipped his suitcase up, rolling it out into the den; she followed him. "Do you have any photos of my father?"

"I think so," he said, her question reminded him to take his Nykon 35 mm camera. He'd taken many photos with this camera, which his parents had given him for Christmas when he was 14 years old. "Why?"

"My mother wanted me to bring pictures of my father to be displayed at the wake."

His fingertips brushed against the piles of photos he kept in the few portfolios he had. He flipped through the albums pulling out the few pictures he had of her father. Tears misted in her eyes as she looked through the pictures.

He wrapped his arms around her, wishing he could make the grief she was feeling go away. "Can I have your keys?" She fished her keys on her Girl Scout key chain out of the bottom of her purse handing them to him. "I'll drive you to Tanya's house so you can pick up your stuff."

They left the house; he locked up behind them. They loaded his suitcase and black back pack into her compact car, and he drove the 10 minutes to the Johnson's house. Their friends lived in a middle class neighborhood, a few blocks west of North Central Texas University's campus.

She'd moved out of North Central Texas University's dorms her senior year and went to live with their longtime friends Tanya and Bryant Johnson. The Johnsons charged her $250 a month for rent.

They'd known the couple, who had married three years ago, since high school. The Johnsons were pregnant with their a daughter before they married. Now they juggled finishing college with their marriage and parenthood.

They drove up the Johnson's paved driveway. The Johnson had their house built a few years ago. The yellow house had four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a two-car garage, porch, a big yard and a large basement and that's where she stayed.

Their friend, Bryant, who worked at the local bank, wasn't home yet, but his wife, Tanya, who worked as a dance instructor, was home with their daughter, Trisha. They were busy coloring at the kitchen table when they came into the house.

Tanya looked up at them with surprise. The Johnsons hardly ever caught Lathal and Malan together. They had attended their friends' graduation from North Central Texas University three weeks ago. Even though they'd invited Lathal and Malan for Christmas and New Year's dinner, they wouldn't spend any time with their friends since they were going out of town for the holidays.

Matter of fact, Lathal was barely around their house. It didn't bother her but her friend practically lived with Malan, or she was at work.

But Tanya rarely saw Malan. She occasionally watch her friend's fiance's performances at the Falls Theater or bumped into him around town.

Of course, 3-year-old Trisha Johnson immediately bounded over to Lathal and Malan. Although her parent's friends weren't blood relations, the girl loved them like they were family and referred to them by the honorary title of aunt and uncle.

With her pigtails sticking out like little wings on opposite ends of her head, Trisha warmly embraced them by latching one arm around Malan's leg and the other around Lathal's leg. "Auntie Lathal, Uncle Malan."

Tanya rose from her kitchen chair and pulled her daughter off her friends' legs. "Hey, you two," she smiled, gesturing toward the vacant dining room chairs. "Sit down and take a load off."

Even though her aunt and uncle didn't take a seat, Trisha climbed into her chair and returned to her coloring. Tanya noticed Lathal's teary eyes and serious expression; her smile faded.

She pulled out the chair and looked her daughter in the eyes. "Trish, go play in the living room."

"I don't wanna," Trisha protested.

"This is adult talk, honey," Tanya said gently. "Please do what I say."

"All right," Trisha pouted, scampering off into the living room.

Turning toward her friends, Tanya said concerned, "Lathal, what's wrong?"

She sighed heavily, "My father died."

"What?!?" Tanya said shocked. "What happened?"

"He had a heart attack in his sleep early this morning," she explained. "We're leaving tonight to drive to Wisconsin for my father's funeral at the end of this week."

"I'm so sorry, Lathal," Tanya hugged her friend. "Is there anything I can do for you guys?"

She briefly thought about it. "I haven't had a chance to figure out how we're going to get to Wisconsin yet."

Tanya offered, "I'll do that while you pack."

"Thanks," she said before she went alone into the basement to pack.

After pulling the road map out of a drawer in the kitchen, Tanya spread it out on the table. Malan sat down beside her and together they looked it over.

Tanya glanced at him, "Aren't you going to help Lathal?"

"She doesn't need my help," he said quietly. "Besides, I wanted to give her some time to herself."

"This is a difficult time for her, Malan," Tanya reminded him.

"I know," he nodded, "but she'll be OK -- she's strong."

Agreement gleamed in Tanya eyes. Then she returned her attention to the map. "Where does Lathal's mom live?"

"In Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin," he said.

Tanya traced her finger along the map from Texas to Wisconsin, "It looks like it's a straight shot. You take I-35 until you get to Minneapolis/St. Paul and then you take I-95 to Chippewa Falls."

She stood there with her blue suitcase and matching backpack. "Are you ready, Malan?"

"Yes," he said, rising from his seat. "Do you have your pictures of your father?"

She patted the front of her backpack. "I've got them right here."

"Do you have everything you need?" He asked.

"I think so," she said.

Tanya handed her the map, "You better take this with you."

"Thanks," she said. "We'd better go."

Tanya called to her daughter. "Trish, come say goodbye to your Auntie Lathal and Uncle Malan."

"Later gators," Trisha said, running into the room, giving her parent's friends a quick hug, and then dashed out of the kitchen.

Tanya hugged Malan. "You two be careful."

"We will," he promised.

Then Tanya hugged Lathal, "Take care of each other."

"We will," she promised and then they departed, loading her stuff into the car.

She didn't feel up to driving so she let him drive the first day. She could drive later on when they got closer to Wisconsin.

Since they lived in a suburb of Dallas they were on the highway almost immediately.

He slapped on his shades to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. The interstate was already flooded with rush hour traffic even though it was early in the afternoon. He frowned in annoyance -- he should have figured that there'd be lots of people traveling the highways during the holiday season.

She scribbled in a notebook she'd pulled out of her back pack that she had resting near her feet. He glanced over at her, "What are you doing?"

Her eyes watered with tears. "Since I didn't get a chance to tell my father goodbye, I'm writing him a letter."

"That's a good idea," he said supportively. "How far do you want to go today?"

She consulted the map, "We should try to travel about half way -- which is Des Moines, Iowa."

He nodded, "Sounds good."

She alternated between writing and reading until 6 p.m. when it got dark. Although they were hungry, they decided not to have dinner until they stopped for the night.

They arrived in Des Moines about 11:30 p.m. She and her fiance couldn't afford to stay at a hotel, so they settled for a motel like Lucky 7s. He checked into the motel. She was too worn out to care that he'd registered them like they were a married couple. Besides, it didn't matter -- they were going to be married in May.

Whenever they stayed the night at a motel the management assigned them to an upstairs room, and once again that was the case. They shoved the bare necessities they needed for the next day in their back packs before climbing to their room at the top of the stairs. Their non-smoking room, which faced the pool, had two king-sized beds.

After they went to the bathroom and took all the small, courtesy soaps and shampoos, they went to the Lenny's she's seen that wasn't very far from the motel. The meal passed in a blur since they both were so tired.

They returned to their motel room at 12:30 a.m. Since they were both so sleepy, they quickly got ready for bed.

He locked the door, closed the drapes and turned down the sheets. She donned her silky peach sleeveless nightie and he stripped down his briefs.

She laid with her back toward him, and he climbed into bed beside her, pulling the covers around them.

He tightly wrapped his arms around her slender body. Lightly kissing the long strands of hair that lay near her ear, he said softly. "I love you, Lathal."

"I love you, Malan," she murmured back.

With that, they both fell into a deep sleep.