“No one said it explicitly, but that was my interpretation after my visit to the gallery. Something Christmas-y. Something a tourist would want. Something commercial, et cetera.”
“Well, I love it,” he said. “I loved it the first moment I saw it.”
Amy smiled up at him. “Really? Do you want it?”
He looked at her. “Seriously?”
“Of course. I’ll ship it to you.”
“I want it.” Harrison looked at the painting again. “It reminds me of these two weeks.”
She was silent for a moment. She slipped her hand around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. She dug her phone out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Type in your address, will you? I’ll send it home to you.”
He took the phone, but he hesitated. All he had was the condo. That lonely box, identical to hundreds of other boxes in that building. Hardly a home. But he added his address to her phone.
They didn’t say more about the two weeks—or the end of them—as they prepared to vacate the cabin.
Harrison loaded her minivan with the things they’d managed to drag along with them. The day was gray and cold, and another, stronger cold front was coming through next week, according to the guy at Bellah’s. “Haven’t had two big snows in December since the twenties,” he’d informed Harrison. “Might bring ice, too,” he’d said as he’d sipped from a banged-up tumbler of coffee. “Might stick through Christmas. Now’s a good time to get out.”
Was it? Harrison still felt at odds with his decision to go back on tour. Clay had become a nuisance, and he’d finally had to give him an answeror risk losing all his endorsementsandhis manager. His decision seemed the least bad of his options. The least risky. For now. But he felt good, he was hitting the ball well. The only thing missing was that fire in his belly. He felt confident he would get it back the first time he stepped up to the number one tee in a tournament.
Amy came outside with Duchess’s dog bed tucked up under her arm. “Have you seen my blind dog? Should I be worried she dove off a cliff?”
“We both know the old girl is not inclined to walk that far. She’s right over there.” He pointed to a grassy patch just below the porch. Duchess was stretched out on her side. “We should all be more like Duchess and take each day as it comes.”
“And take naps,” Amy said.
“And never miss a meal,” Harrison added.
“And ask for belly rubs and bedtime treats.” She giggled.
The sound of a car—wait, make that two—caught their attention before they could go down the rabbit hole of how great it was to be a dog, and they both turned just as Duchess jumped up and started to bark in the wrong direction. An SUV and a minivan barreled up the drive, crowding in behind Amy’s car. The minivan, with the tinsel-coated longhorn steer antlers on the front bumper, got there first. The SUV was a run-of-the-mill red one.
“Is that Ryan?” Amy asked, shielding her eyes with her hand.
“Your ex?” Harrison asked. He knew there would be visitors, but he didn’t know about Ryan.
The doors of the vehicles opened and people began to spill out. The Bossy Posse, in matching sweatshirts that read,Still Merry and Bright After All These Years.Hillary, in a red sweatshirt that matched the color of the other ones but was missing the caption. Amy’s father and her brother, and two boys who had to be Amy’s kids—the smaller one raced for her and threw his arms around her waist so violently that it almost knocked her over. The taller, lankier one sort of loped over, his long, darkhair covering his eyes, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his cargo pants. Harrison marveled that he could see where he was going.
Then there was the man who eyed Harrison coolly.
“What is going on?” Amy cried, looking around at them all. “Did someone die?”
“Die?Of course not! Would I be wearing this if someone died?” Barb asked.
“Not a fair question, Mom. You once told me my dog died with a handful of balloons and T-shirt that said, ‘I refuse to tolerate lactose.’ ”
“You came home early that day, Amy. I wasn’t prepared.”
“Here, Barb,” said Carol, and handed a roll of butcher paper to Barb. She began to unroll it.
“Mom, you’ve got it upside down,” Kevin said.
Barb looked down.
“I’ve got it. Let’s just switch places,” said June. She tried to walk to the other side of Barb; that confused them even more.
“Mommommommom, are you coming home now?” the boy with the death grip on Amy asked.
