The RV was different than before. The weapons were gone, and extra seats had been installed to accommodate all the passengers. John Henry was driving, and Grandpa was riding up front beside him. The seats followed two by two. Mom and Dad were next, then him and Natalie, and Jordan had chosen the back, sticking in his ear buds to listen to music or more like to drown the rest of them out. No one was talking. It was the kind of quiet that you could hear.
"Did you know there's a cheese factory in between here and the campsite?" Dad offered up, breaking the unnatural silence. "They'll give you a tour of the factory, and there's even a gift shop. It's got a 4 out of 5 star rating on TripAdvisor."
One might assume he was laying the geeky father routine on a bit thick to hide his identity as Superman. One would be wrong. This was all Dad, Jonathan thought, failing to hold back a smile. Could anyone blame him and Jordan for not believing their dad was the greatest superhero in the world until he demonstrated his powers? He was just so Dad.
"Honey," Mom said, patting Dad's arm in an effort to soothe. "I don't think anyone here wants to see how cheese gets made."
"But it's so fascinating," he said, using a finger to push up the glasses sliding down his nose. "This factory does everything: Parmesan, Romano,-"
"Cheddar," Jonathan added helpfully.
"Right," he said, not catching the playful jab at the mention of his smile word from earlier. "Mom used to make some phenomenal Farmer's Cheese, but the equipment they must have at the factory to handle all that cheese has to be exciting."
"Do cheese and exciting even belong in the same sentence?" Jordan asked from the back, pulling out an earbud long enough to interject his brand of sarcasm into the conversation. He apparently wasn't filtering them out as well as he'd hoped.
"Sure it does. I mean does anyone here know how cheese is made? Anyone?"
"Wood pulp," Mom offered. "I did an exposé on it six years ago. They add it in the green cans of Parmesan to cut costs. I bet that's something you won't hear on the tour."
Natalie laughed. It was a nice sound and proof that this had been a good idea.
"I remember that too well," Dad said. "That's why I buy cheese in blocks now at the farmer's market. You know I bet if it was the world's biggest wheel of cheese, you'd be game."
Mom chuckled at his teasing. It was true. She liked the gimmicky side stops whereas Dad liked the educational ones. "Tell you what, on our next weekend trip, you take me to the biggest cheese and I'll take you to the cheese factory."
"It's a date," he agreed, and they went back to phone surfing.
Jonathan noticed Natalie was tense. It was probably from watching his parents being all couply. He could imagine the discomfort he would feel if their situations were reversed, so he did his best to distract. "I've heard you play. Guitar, I mean."
"Yeah," she agreed, looking at him with some measure of suspicion as if he'd been spying on her or something.
"That's really cool. I've never been that musically gifted myself, but I admire people who are. Jordan plays piano."
"Oh?" she asked, sounding a tad curious.
He'd only managed to get single syllables out of her thus far, but that was progress. "Yeah, when we were little, our mom insisted that we choose an activity we were interested in. Jordan chose piano, and I chose peewee football. Our parents worked late, so it was something to keep us busy after school, but she somehow managed to come to almost all my games and all Jordan's recitals despite her crazy work hours." In direct contrast to his dad, but he wouldn't mention that. He was no longer bitter about that aspect of his childhood now that he knew Dad had a good reason to be so absent. And he was making up for it now as he'd seen to it that other superheroes were on extra high alert, so that he could spend the week uninterrupted.
In his enthusiasm, he hadn't noticed the way she'd grown more tense than before, and she had a strange look on her face like she was struggling not to cry.
"Oh my gosh, I'm an idiot." He'd forgotten for a moment that their mom was her mom, more or less, and she likely had a similar story to tell only her mom was gone. His attempt to find common ground had worked a little too well and backfired on him. He'd have to tread more carefully in the future. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," she said though the way she said it said that it wasn't okay at all.
He settled back into his seat, deciding maybe the awkward silence from before wasn't a bad thing. It would go better when they had things to do besides just riding. Maybe Dad had been onto something, and they should have stopped off at the cheese factory. As it was, they had a two hour journey ahead of them.