shoulders. He didn’t mean to touch her but it was the only way he could think of to get her attention.
She regarded him with wide, startled eyes. “You don’t like the schedule? Because I can change it—”
“The schedule isn’t the problem. It’s the whole plan that won’t work.”
“Of course it’ll work. I’ve figured it all out, down to the last detail.”
He didn’t doubt that. She micromanaged everything. “It won’t work because we’re not going.” He dropped his hands, letting her go. “I’m not taking the deal.”
She held very still and watched him. Her gaze never wavered as she said, “Chicken.”
“Give me a break.”
“No, this is fascinating. I’ve finally figured out what you’re afraid of. It’s not taking care of the kids and being a family man. Lord knows that scares most men but not you. The thing you’re afraid of is the thing you love most—golf.”
“That’s shit.”
“Ah, now you’re getting hostile. Further proof that you’re chicken.”
“I’m thinking of the kids, okay, about doing what’s best for them.”
“What’s best for them might just be this trip, Sean. They need to get away from this house, this town for a while. It’s too sad here, too haunted. You want me to be Charlie’s tutor. If I come along, I can do just that.”
“You were dead set against it.”
“I’m willing to compromise. I adore Charlie, and the change of scenery will be good for everyone. Cameron thinks so, anyway, and in case you haven’t noticed, Cameron is one smart boy. He showed me the green jacket, by the way.”
“You’re kidding.” Sean always kept the thing buried in a piece of luggage but could never quite bring himself to get rid of it.
“He wanted me to see for myself what you’re capable of. The night he told me about this opportunity was the first time since the accident that he’s shown me anything but rage and defeat. He was hopeful, looking forward to the future. He believes in you, Sean.”
Sean’s stomach tightened. He believes in you.
“He says he’ll be your caddie,” she added. “Apparently he’s quite good at it.”
“I’m not turning this family into a Wonder Bread commercial,” he said.
“No. That’s the sponsor’s job as I understand it. Yours is to show up and play golf and look wholesome.”
He glanced around the RV. Its tacky laminated walls seemed to close in on him, squeezing tighter and tighter. “I’m not doing it,” he said. “I’m not dragging this family across the country in a damned Winnebago.”
part five
Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with.
—Mark Twain
chapter 37
“Where the hell is the turn signal on this thing?” asked Sean, searching the console of the Winnebago as he drove east toward the interstate.
“Don’t cuss,” said Ashley, whose car seat was buckled to one of the bench seats.
“I’m not cussing,” he said, finding the turn signal and heading up the on-ramp.
“You said hell,” Charlie informed him. “You said, ‘Where the hell—’”
“All right.” He briefly put up his hand in surrender. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Charlie said agreeably.
By checking in the rearview mirror, he could see her seated at the table, her legs tucked underneath her, drawing vigorously with a green crayon. Across from her, Cameron lounged with his nose in Ben Hogan’s Five Lessons.
Finally, Sean cut a glance sideways at the co-pilot’s seat. Lily was busy with her computer-generated maps that had the route highlighted and all the distances measured to the last tenth of a mile.
Last night when they’d had their final predeparture meeting, he had looked at her printouts and brochures in bewilderment.
“I’m pretty sure we could make it just by following the signs on the interstates.”
“Pretty sure isn’t good enough. My way, we’ll be absolutely sure we don’t miss any important landmarks.”
“Do you always plan ahead like this?”
“Absolutely.”
Grinning at the memory, he said, “How you doing, Miss Lily?”
“Fine, so far.”
Seven miles from home and she was fine. “Reason I ask,” he said, “is you’re kind of quiet. My driving make you nervous?”
“No.” She checked her watch.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“No,” she said again, but the sudden pink blush in her cheeks contradicted her. She shifted in the high-backed seat, looking monumentally uncomfortable.
And then, for no reason he could put his finger on, the smile stayed in place. They had left a place where every minute of the day was saturated with reminders of grief and loss, and as the miles rolled past, the air felt lighter, clearer, as though they’d driven out of