Dim orange light shone through the drawn curtains of the RV. He was home and awake. She smiled as she parked the car. She grabbed the movie from the passenger side seat.
She knocked on the side door, marveling at how much cooler the weather was out here. Midnight Dreams had been stifling, but this was pleasantly chilly.
Ryan opened the door, light spilling out into the deep blue of the evening. “Hey, pumpkin.”
“Hi, Dad.” She hopped up the metal stairs into the RV and kissed him on the cheek.
He bent down to accept the kiss. He was just over six feet to her five and a half, his chest and shoulders broad and muscular from years of physical work. His hair, the same shade and texture as hers, was going slightly thin in the front, but in a way that made him look more distinguished. He grinned as she landed the kiss, masculine lines creasing his cheek.
He stepped back to let her in, and she closed the door behind her. With all the curtains drawn, the TV felt bright, cozy and comfortably warm. Juliet smelled popcorn – not the microwave kind, but real kernels popped in an old-school popper – and a sweet, rich whiff of chocolate.
“Are you making cocoa?” she asked excitedly.
He grinned and moved to the stovetop. “Of course. I didn’t have it last time. I felt bad.”
Popcorn and hot cocoa had been part of their movie traditions since she was young. He always insisted on buying the quality stuff, too – melted chocolate and milk, not the stuff from the packets. He stirred a tiny pot with a wooden spoon. It smelled amazing.
Juliet put down her things in the RV’s passenger side seat. She frowned as she looked at the space above the windshield.
“Where’s the TV?” One of the first modifications he’d made was to mount a big-screen TV in the space above the front seats.
Ryan cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Ah, about that. I ended up moving the TV.”
“To where?”
He turned and pointed to the rear of the RV. Curious, she slid past him and moved past the shower and wardrobe to the back. She spotted the TV mounted at an angle on the interior wall at the foot of the bed. An unobtrusive cord led to the Blu-Ray player on a shelf around the corner.
“Oh,” she said.
“I found it a lot easier to watch from back there,” he explained. “I hope it won’t make it awkward. I’m old and my eyesight is going.”
“Stop it, Dad.” She sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly. Although they’d had the RV since she was a teenager, she’d only gone on a handful of excursions in it. She’d never gotten to sleep in the bed itself, but she’d always loved the way it filled up the space it was in, the sides flush with the walls. It seemed so comfortable and safe.
He smiled and poured cocoa into two thermal mugs. “Did you bring the movie? I timed it just right. Everything’s ready.”
“I did!” She hopped off the bed and slid past him again, putting her hands on his waist as she pivoted around him in the small space. She struggled with the plastic bag for a moment before producing the disc.
“The Seventh Sacrifice,” she read from the back cover copy, deepening her voice for dramatic effect. “Douglas Pierce’s shocking 1979 classic tells the story of a reclusive witch-cult in a small town…”