The bees had recovered from the smoke and were beginning to reemerge from the box. A few had become irritated and were buzzing around their heads. He needed to close this one up and get on with it.
Lilah toyed with the zipper on her backpack. “I mean to Vermont, like Mom said. Do you mind?”
He slid in the last frame and sealed up the hive. Of course he minded. He hated the hell out of it. He hated that Sophie had come in the first place. He didn’t trust her and never would. Showing up with her cowboy boots and silver bracelets, dangling her affection like a gaudy prize. What motherless girl could resist?
He squeezed Lilah’s shoulder, comforted that he was looking into his own eyes. “Go if you want. Spend time with your mom, see your grandmother. It’s okay.”
“You sure?” She still looked torn. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”
“Of course I’m sure. You don’t think I can manage to feed Charlie for a few days?”
She laughed and gave him a quick hug, then skipped off to see her mother.
...
They left for Vermont the next afternoon.
“Have her back by dinnertime Sunday,” Glenn said as he walked them to the car. “She’s already missing two days of school.”
“Don’t worry.” Sophie had on the cowboy boots and a suede jacket with fringe. God knew where she thought she was going.
Glenn folded Lilah in a hug. “Text me when you get there.”
“I will.” She gave him a kiss, but her eyes were on the jacket, the way the fringe swung when her mother moved.
“I packed you some snacks for the road.” He handed her a bag with peanut butter sandwiches and some apples. “There’s enough for your mom too.”
“We’re not going into the outback,” Sophie said, “but thank you.”
He waved them off, his heart a tight fist in his chest. Four days without her. Lilah was older and warier than when she went to Colorado, but he could see her need to believe in her mother. The way she’d tumbled off the bus, ready to go. Her bag already packed. Maybe it would be different this time. For her sake, he hoped so.
He ate Mini-Wheats for dinner and washed the cereal down with a beer. Turned on the TV but couldn’t find anything to watch. The house was too quiet, and he finally turned it off and went to bed. Sleepless, he listened to the dog’s soft snoring and spun anxious scenarios.
What if Sophie didn’t bring her back? He had custody, but noncustodial parents ran off with kids all the time. He would have to get a lawyer, go to court. He sat up, heart pounding. Or what if Lilah decided she wanted to live in Colorado? She was twelve, almost thirteen. Kids that age could have a say. If given a chance, would she choose her mother over him?
He gave up on sleep and made a pot of coffee. Almost morning anyway, the sky just beginning to lighten, the birds setting up a racket. Outside the kitchen window, a smudge of orange singed the horizon.
He kept busy while they were gone. He drove to Wallingford to talk to an apple farmer about pollination and spent time with a client who’d bought top of the line equipment but didn’t know the first thing about using it. He had to show the guy the basics, even how to securely fasten his veil. He didn’t mind; he enjoyed beginners with their enthusiasm. Poor Mr. Linden was at the other end—knew a lot but was frustrated he couldn’t handle it anymore.
Sunday afternoon he started watching the clock. He made meatballs, heavy on the cheese the way Lilah liked and put upa sauce to simmer. At four, he turned it off. Way too early. He’d said dinner time. That could be anywhere between five and seven. Even seven-thirty. Knowing Sophie, she’d push it.
By five, he had to get out of the house. He went out to the shed and reorganized a couple of shelves, even though everything was already where it should be. Vermont was a five-hour drive. There might be traffic, an accident on the highway. Should he text Lilah? No, better to give them their time together. But his stomach was wound tight, and at five-thirty he turned the sauce on to warm again. Lilah would be hungry; he should be ready.
When the rental turned up the driveway at six o’clock, his heart flew up in relief. He and Charlie banged out the door, and he swung Lilah into a hug so huge her feet left the ground.
“Have a good time?” he said as he set her down.
“It was great! Grandma Nora’s house is really cool. It has a laundry chute from the second floor all the way to the basement and we went shopping in Stowe and Mom got me this jacket.” She twirled to show off a miniature version of Sophie’s jacket. Suede minus the fringe.
“Very nice.” He caught Sophie’s eye. “Thank you for getting her home on time.”
“Ye of little faith.”
“Has Charlie had dinner?” Lilah said. “He’s got his nose in my bag.”
“Not yet. You can feed him.”
Lilah disappeared into the house with Charlie on her heels, having heard the word dinner.
