Barry wasn’t really listening to his parent’s conversation, but his mother responded to something his father said with;
“Look around, we’ll never be here again. If people think your shirt is rumpled or my lipstick is smeared, it doesn’t matter. We’ll never see them again. What matters is when we get to the town where we plan to be…”
The words buried into Barry as if they were worms. He considered his mother’s words as they left the restaurant and got into the car, his father took over the driving.
The past, who he was, had been, didn’t matter.
Barry would not carry Nobarry with him.