“You don’t seem surprised.”
“I told your grandmother that you’d fall in love with that truck, but she couldn’t see it at the time. I’m not sure she can see it now. But there’s just something about those old five-window beauties that pulls me in every time. I would have kept it myself if I’d had the room to store it.” He tossed the file on the desk and sat opposite Christopher. “Would you like me to arrange to have it transported back to New York? I know a couple of companies that aren’t too expensive and do a good job.”
“I’m going to drive it. That was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about—whether or not you feel it’s up to the trip mechanically. I haven’t had any trouble around here, but it’s over three thousand miles between here and New York.”
“That truck could handle a dozen round-trips to anyplace on this continent, including Alaska.”
“Alaska?” Christopher’s eyes lit up.
Kyle sat back and studied Christopher. “Want to tell me what you’ve got in mind?”
Christopher didn’t know how to express himself without sounding like he’d been smoking a peyote-filled pipe. Mostly, he didn’t want to come across all mystic and new age. He hadn’t been in California long enough to pull it off. “There’s a lot of country I haven’t seen and a lot of people I haven’t met. I figure I’ll never have another time or another opportunity to just take off and wing it. Once I start school, everything will change. I’ll get caught up in my classes and grades and riding again.”
He struggled to find the words that would help Kyle understand, realizing instinctively that he would be the person his grandmother turned to when she was trying to figure out what was up with her wayward grandson. “I want to know what it’s like to come to a road and follow where it goes just because it looks interesting. For one year in my life I want to experience real freedom. Then I’ll go back and do what’s expected of me.”
“Are you sure one year is enough?” Kyle asked. “What if you like that feeling of freedom so much that you can’t give it up?”
“Not going to happen. Somewhere inside me I’m still my father’s son. It would hurt too many people.”
Kyle sat back and took several minutes to absorb what Christopher had told him. “I know a lot of good people pretty much all around this country. I’m going to give you a notebook with their names and addresses and phone numbers. If you need something, if you break down, if you’re in trouble, you can call any of these people and they will be there to help you as soon as they can. Think of it as a kind of roadside insurance.”
Christopher grinned and shifted in his seat. “Thanks. I appreciate it, but I hope I’m never in the position where I have to call on any of your friends.”
“You never know. You just might get a hankering for a home-cooked meal. Any one of them would love to have you stop by. And I know your grandmother and mother would feel a whole lot better knowing there are people out there ready and willing to take care of you. Consider them part of the ‘whole lot of people you haven’t met yet.’ ”
“Is that what’s called an ulterior motive?”
“It comes from being a parent and grandparent myself.” Kyle changed the subject as he began sorting through the papers. “What about the horse you came here to buy? I thought Alison said you’d found one you liked.”
“I bought him. I’m going to leave him here, and they’re going to continue his training while I’m gone.”
“That should go a long way to convince your mom and Alison that you’ll be coming home eventually—but I have a feeling it might have more to do with you thinking about settling out here eventually.” Kyle opened a file next to his desk and pulled out a sales contract. He tapped the stack of papers on his desk to even them, looking at Christopher over the top.
“I’m going to deny I told you this should you ever feel the need to pass it on, but I think this trip is the best thing you could be doing with your life right now. Hell, I’d be trying to bum a ride if it weren’t for everything I’ve got going on around here—your grandmother included.
“Just be careful,” he went on, trying hard to keep his words from sounding like a lecture and almost succeeding. “Not everyone deserves your trust. And no matter how much that mushroom growing in the forest looks like the one you get back home in the grocery store, don’t eat it.” He locked his gaze on Christopher’s. “You get what I’m saying?”
“Stay away from drugs.”
“And booze. Not only because you’re too young to drink it legally, but because we’re all too stupid when we’re drunk to see when we’re headed for trouble. There will be plenty of time to do that kind of stupid stuff when you get home. Stay away from it on the road.”
With startling clarity, Christopher suddenly saw what it would have been like to grow up with a father and was filled with an ache that nearly choked him. Did Kyle’s daughters feel the absence of their mother with the same longing Christopher felt for his missing father?
“One more thing,” Kyle added. “Always look and act like you’re down to your last twenty dollars. This country is filled with good people, but there are some bad ones in the mix. Don’t tempt them.”
“How can you tell the difference?”
“For the most part, you can’t. The guy you meet nursing a cup of coffee at a hole-in-the-wall diner could turn out to be a gentle schizophrenic who’s only looking for a kind word, while the happy-go-lucky fatherly sort who slides onto the stool next to you at that same diner could be reaching for your wallet while he’s slapping you on the back.”
“I hope you’re not telling my grandmother this stuff.”
Kyle laughed. “Not a chance.” He passed the stack of papers across to Christopher. “Did Alison happen to mention that she’s coming back after your birthday?”
She hadn’t even hinted it was a possibility. “When did this happen?”
“This morning. She got a call from the woman who owns the house where you’ve been staying. Seems the couple who were supposed to be there in July can’t make it after all.”
His grandmother couldn’t be staying because of him, not when he was leaving in the morning. Which meant it had to be Kyle. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had to have figured this out, but he’d been so caught up in his own world that he hadn’t given hers more than a cursory thought. “This is turning into an interesting summer.”
“We have some things to work out,” Kyle said. “My life is here, and hers is in New York.”
“It used to be in New York. Now, with my mother moving to Connecticut and me taking off, there’s not much to hold her there anymore.” The words were difficult, the idea even more so. The house he’d lived in for over half of his life, the horses and barns and paddocks, the town, the neighbors—these were home, the place he’d counted on always being there. But he had no right to ask or expect his grandmother to maintain a home just to accommodate his occasional visits. She deserved the same freedom he longed to experience.
“Memories are powerful magnets.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.” Christopher dropped his gaze to the papers in front of him. “Are you going to try to talk her into staying?” He wished he hadn’t asked. Selfishly, he wasn’t ready for her to start a new life. A huge part of his independence was tied to knowing his mother and grandmother would be there if he called.
“Yes,” Kyle admitted. “I’m not crazy about the idea of a long-distance courtship. We both learned the hard way that you can’t count on tomorrow.”
Christopher tried to put a positive spin on his grandmother moving three thousand miles away. “At least I’ll have family around if I manage to get into Davis.”
“I thought you were going to Penn State.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
Christopher began, reluctantly, telling Kyle about a dream he’d never shared with anyone until Grace. He talked about his long-standing friendship with the vet who took care of h
is horses and how he’d gravitated toward taking care of the large animals when he worked at his neighbor’s farm. His first trip to Tufts University Veterinary School with his horse Josi had been an eye-opener. He’d left determined to talk to his mother about veterinary school and walked into a surprise party she’d thrown to celebrate his acceptance at Penn State. Everyone was there. Everyone was thrilled for him. His grandmother cried. His mother beamed. He put up good old Penn State’s blue-and-white flag and surrendered.
“Why didn’t you say anything before now?” Kyle asked.
“Because I didn’t want to disappoint my mother and grandmother. It wasn’t just their dream that I follow in my father’s and grandfather’s footsteps, it was their obsession. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have a Penn State pennant in my bedroom or a T- shirt in my closet. We even have Nittany Lions ornaments on the Christmas tree and an exact granite copy of the Nittany lion on a pedestal in the garden. Growing up, the only homecoming game I ever missed was when I was in Lexington at a dressage competition.”
“How would you feel if I were to put in a good word for you at Davis? It couldn’t hurt to do your undergraduate work there.”
Was it really possible for everything to fall into place this easily? Of course there was a wide river between a good word and an acceptance letter. “That would be great.”
Kyle pushed his chair back from the desk. “Why don’t we talk about this over lunch? We can take care of the truck when we get back.”
Christopher followed him outside and waited while Kyle flipped the sign on the door and then locked it. “I can see why Grams likes you.”
“And it’s pretty easy to see why she’s crazy about you too.” As naturally and comfortably as if Christopher were his own son, Kyle put his arm around his shoulders and walked him to the garage stall holding the Tesla.
The next morning Alison stood beside the truck, her arms folded tightly across her chest, fighting tears while she waited for Christopher to come out of the house.
“I think I’ve got everything,” he said, standing on the porch and staring at her. “Come on, Grams, you promised. No tears.”
“It’s the wind.”
“It’s foggy. There is no wind.”
“Okay, so I got something in my eye.”
“It’s just a road trip. People go on them all the time. It’s why there’s so much traffic. Just imagine I’m going away to college.”
“I’d rather imagine you pulling up to the house five days from now.”
“Whatever gets you through the week.”
She laughed as she wiped tears from her cheeks. “Wherever did you pick up that expression?”
“Grace’s dad says it all the time.”
“I saw Andrew this morning. He said Grace was crying too.”
“I seem to have that effect on the women in my life.”
“Only because we love you.” She put her arms around him and hugged him tight. “Now go on. Get out of here. And before I forget, there’s a present in the glove box.”
“What is it?”
“A camera—something that takes pictures a cut above your phone. You’re going to be seeing a lot of country I’ve never seen, and I want a full report, pictures included.”
He settled into the driver’s seat and rolled down the window. “Love you, Grams.”
She blew him a kiss as he pulled out of the driveway. “Five days,” she called after him.
Still facing forward, he put his arm out the window and waved one last time.
Alison watched until the truck disappeared into the eucalyptus grove before she headed back into the house to answer her cell phone. It was Nora.
“He’s on his way,” she said in lieu of a greeting.
In more ways than we might have wanted, and on a road that’s sure to have more bumps and twists and turns than we would have wished, but it’s his journey, not ours. No matter how much it hurts, it’s time to let him go.
Alison carried the phone to the back deck only half listening to Nora’s plans to try to talk some sense into Christopher when he arrived. They discussed last-minute details for his birthday party and what to do with the new ceramic pieces that had arrived the day before, then said good-bye with a promise to call each other as soon as either of them heard from Christopher.
She tossed the phone onto the chair and went to the railing, where she had a better view of the beach. The fog would be gone in another hour or so, and the beach would begin to fill. But for now it was nearly deserted.
Was this your doing, Dennis? I know I’ve been complaining about being lonely and that I’ve been worried about Christopher, but don’t you think you went just a little overboard?
I finally decided you must have called Peter in to give you a hand with Christopher. That brave face I put on when I saw him off was about as real as the smile on the runner-up in the Miss America contest. I’m going to miss him all day every day and with every part of my being.
Is that why you sent Kyle in my direction? I like him. Maybe too much. But I think you’d like him too, so I guess it’s okay. After all these years, I’m actually thinking about uprooting myself and doing something I couldn’t have imagined a month ago. Can you picture me a California Girl? Well, okay, a California Woman.
Alison watched a mother and her five-year-old son cross the sand and settle near the shore, where the sand was wet and compact. The boy was carrying buckets and cups and scoops, equipment to build a sand castle. The mother had the towels and umbrella and water bottles.
Alison’s eyes grew misty as memories of long-ago beaches and sand castles washed over her.
“For every thing there is a season,” she said with poignant longing.
And we’ve reached the season of final good-byes, my beloved. It really is long past the time I should have moved on.
Her phone announced a text message. She considered ignoring it, but habit won out.
It was Christopher.
“Hey, Grams! Stopped for a burger and realized I forgot to say I luv u. I do. Luv u, I mean.”
She pressed the phone to her chest and smiled as tears filled her eyes. She was okay. No, she was a whole lot better than okay.
“Thank you, Christopher,” she texted back. Then she called Kyle to ask him if he would like to accompany her to New York to celebrate Christopher’s birthday and to meet Nora.
His “yes” was filled with an enthusiasm that made her heart sing.
PART TWO
August
Chapter 1
“How long are you going to be mad at me?” Bridget asked, shifting lanes to merge onto the freeway after leaving the Sacramento International Airport.
Danielle shot her a glaring look. “I haven’t decided.”
“Could you at least try to understand?” There was an unmistakable plea in the question.
“No.” Danielle ran her hand under the seat-belt strap that crossed her shoulder. She’d paid a premium on her current car for the sole reason that it had an adjustment to keep the belt from cutting into her neck. Now she was spoiled, even knowing, with all that was going on at home, that it was likely the last time she’d be able to afford this particular luxury.
Most of the time she didn’t mind being an eighth of an inch under six feet tall because she’d made enough money over the years to afford the consequences of not fitting the norm, but now that she and Grady temporarily lacked an income since they’d lost the ski shop, she was going to have to learn to deal with things differently.
“You do realize I could do all the things that make people feel sorry for me. The minute someone realizes I’ve lost my hair to chemo, they’re mine.” Bridget gave Danielle a quick smile before she turned to look at oncoming traffic, slowed the Honda to match their speed, then eased into the flow behind a semi hauling trailers filled to overflowing with bright red Roma tomatoes. The tomatoes were headed to the factory to be turned into a paste that would become everything from catsup to pizza sauce, and the si
ght of the trucks on the freeway was as familiar as the rice fields.
“How was your flight?” Bridget asked, purposely changing the subject.
“Great. Right up to the minute I saw you with that rag on your head.”
Bridget reached up to touch the scarf she’d wrapped turban style around her fuzzy scalp. “My mother made this.”
“Makes sense. Your mother always did like your sister better than you.”
Bridget laughed. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“Just not enough to let me know what you’ve been going through?” Danielle tried, but couldn’t help a welling of tears. “How could you not tell me?”
“It’s taken two years for the four of us to put this trip together. And even at that, we’re still a year past the five-year schedule we promised we’d never forsake—no matter what. There was no way I was going to give anyone an excuse to postpone again.”
“Do you have any idea how lame that sounds? What could have been more important? One phone call and we would have been on the first plane to Sacramento—all of us. We would have worked something out.”
“I thought about it, but Carrie was in the middle of a battle to keep the love of her life from walking out. You were knee-deep in that new project at work. And Angie . . . she never takes time off for anything.”
“Did you buy all that stuff with Carrie?”
“What do you mean?” Bridget asked.
“I don’t know . . . it seemed kinda fishy to me. She never even mentioned she was living with someone, and then all of a sudden she was terrified they were going to break up.”
Bridget adjusted the air conditioner vents, directing them at her face. “Are you going to ask her what happened?”
“No way. I figure if she wanted us to know, she would have told us.”
“Still . . . aren’t you curious?”
Danielle laughed. “Don’t even try. There’s nothing you can say that will get me to go there with Carrie.”
“You’ve never been shy about asking me about my love life,” Bridget said.
“That’s different. I didn’t make a blood vow behind my grandfather’s barn to never keep secrets from Carrie and Angie the way I did with you.” Danielle and Bridget had been best friends since middle school in Atlanta, Georgia. They’d expanded their friendship to include Carrie and Angie when they were sophomores at the University of Virginia and created what had turned into a lifelong bond. Despite winding up living a thousand or more miles apart from each other, the four of them had remained best friends. Just not always as close as Bridget would have liked. Otherwise, Bridget never could have kept her cancer a secret from them.
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