Dutch looked at Gina as they made their journey home. His prayer was that the burden of being his wife would no longer be a burden for her. It was going to remain stressful. He ran a global enterprise and was a former president. They would still have to endure their share of drama and scandals. But they wouldn’t have to endure it in the fishbowl. They wouldn’t have to worry about every move they make becoming fodder for gossip sheets and twenty four hour cable news shows. And that was the kind of small victory, the small change, that they would more than gladly accept all day long.
In fact, as soon as the helicopter landed in the back of their estate, and Dutch stepped out and helped his wife and son out too, he could feel the change as if it was as potent as the wind at his back. The burdens he and Gina had carried for the entirety of their marriage days was already beginning to lift as if a bad storm was clearing. And true to form, they decided to make a run for it.
It was Dutch’s idea. But Little Walt took it from there.
He ran. He laughed and he ran. He was constantly on the verge of falling on his keister, but his little legs kept running.
For him, that was the beauty of it.
For him, it was their laughter that reassured him, just as he was about to have doubts, that he had made the absolute right decision.
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