“He didn’t take the letter, didn’t open it even. So that’s not it. Last night he called me late, after ten. I knew something was up; I just didn’t know what. He was asking questions about my mom. It’s really why I came along today. I wanted to see him.” She fell quiet, stroking the puppy, her eyebrows furrowed tightly together. After a minute, she shifted the puppy in her arms and pulled out her phone. “Can you take him?”
Kelsey took the puppy while Sara focused full attention on her phone.
“His phone used to be my mom’s. All our phones were tracking enabled at the store when we bought them. I think I know where he’s going, but this will tell me for sure.” After a bit more searching, Sara closed her eyes. “He’s such a Crawford, I swear.” She stood up and slipped her phone into her pocket and crossed over to the window. “The little turd is already halfway across Nebraska.”
“Nebraska?”
Sara let out a soft sigh. “It’s okay. You don’t need to worry. None of us need to worry. Even if that crazy car breaks down, he’ll be okay. He’s a Crawford, and Crawfords endure. But the thing is, I think this is his way of trying to do more than that.”
Kelsey felt like the pieces weren’t clicking. “Do you know where he’s headed?”
“Yeah, I do. The Oregon coast. It seems my son is seeking a bit of closure.”
Kelsey blinked, remembering the book she’d spotted by his closet and how her fishing float had been moved off the windowsill and set on the counter.
“Why there?”
“The best I can explain is that he was supposed to go a long time ago, and life got in the way.”
Chapter 28
The thirty-two-hour drive proved more cathartic than Kurt would’ve imagined. He settled into a routine, driving as long as he could keep awake and Frankie could stay content, which tended to be eight or so hours. At that point, he found somewhere to park and took a long walk, ate, and slept until something woke him up.
His favorite stop was in Sweetwater County, Wyoming, pretty much smack-dab in the middle of nowhere. At nearly seven thousand feet, the rise in altitude was palpable. The air was thin and crisp, and the temperature was hovering about ten degrees above freezing as the sun set. There wasn’t a tree in sight, just rolling hills, tall grasses, and scrubby brush, and a stubby mountain chain in the distance.
A herd of horses grazed near the road. They watched Kurt and Frankie walking by as though they’d never seen anything but cars and trucks.
The way Frankie came to life at seeing them—wagging his tail and barking and dropping into a play bow, enticing the nearest horse to run and buck—made Kurt laugh. After watching the horses a bit, they headed down a dirt road. When they’d made it a safe distance from the herd, Kurt unleashed Frankie and let him run until he was panting heavily and content, his crooked smile wide and drooly.
“Thank God you’re getting a second chance, buddy. Kind of makes you want to believe again, doesn’t it?”
Kurt blinked away the unexpected tears stinging his eyes. He’d let Frankie in, let them all in, even though he hadn’t planned on it. It had started with Kelsey, then the house, then everything else came tumbling along after.
By the time they made it back to the Mustang, it was almost fully dark. The passenger-side door wasn’t closed completely, which made Kurt start. He’d gotten Frankie out the driver’s-side door. The road was deserted but someone had been here, checking out his car. Nothing seemed harmed, and he’d had the keys and anything of value on him. The glove box was open, and he spotted Nana’s rosary inside, lying on top of a few napkins. Lifting it out, he held it in the dim light. The wooden beads were faded and worn from her many prayers. He’d carried the rosary around in his pocket the first few days after getting it but had no recollection of putting it in the glove box. Yet, here it was.
Beside him, Frankie whined as he looked around in the darkness. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you, buddy. We’ll head into town before we catch some z’s.”
Kurt slipped the rosary into his pocket, loaded Frankie up, and continued on until he reached a brightly lit truck stop. He was so fatigued by then that he fell into a doze within seconds of turning off the ignition. He woke a few hours later. Frankie had wedged the front half of his body between the bucket seats and was licking his face.
After grabbing a meal for each of them, refueling, and letting Frankie stretch his legs, Kurt continued west, dipping into Utah, then driving through Idaho. Passing the Oregon state line renewed his energy, as did the second sunrise of the trip. The green hills of Oregon seemed to stretch on forever. He napped again midway through the day and suspected that tonight, no matter what happened when he reached the beach, he’d need to find a room to stretch out in before heading back tomorrow.
By the time he finally made it to the coast, the sun wasn’t far above the horizon, and the western sky visible in gaps in the forest promised a spectacular sunset. He caught glimpses of the ocean as he drove the last few meandering miles to a beach town. A pleasant calm trickled over him, and he couldn’t help but feel as if Nana was beside him in the passenger seat.
He should’ve come home for her funeral. He suspected that’s what had been bothering him most of all. He’d extended his service three times. He could’ve taken leave, but he didn’t even try. Instead, he pushed her smiling brown
