Something about this information seemed to weary Whit, right before her eyes, and she remembered that he was a tired, grieving father who no longer had a wife with whom he could share the load. This was a bitter pill that seemed to undermine her justifiable defensiveness, and for the second time in as many minutes she felt called up short.
“I need to pick up Annie from school in a bit.”
Whit blinked it slow motion. He was clearly exhausted.
She swallowed the pill and felt its bitterness gradually fade.
“Can I drop you off somewhere on the way?” he asked. “Or if you prefer to call Diana—”
“God, please no,” Merritt interrupted, drawing a laugh from Whit. “I mean yes. You can drop me off.”
Whit scratched the back of his head, thinking and feeling but keeping it to himself. Then he nodded to her, as if he’d built the resolution needed to do the next thing, small as it was, and pick up his daughter from school.
“Splendid,” he said. “Let’s get going.”
In the garage, she saw a silver Audi Q4 Sportback next to a surprisingly tall, faded blue jeep with a hard-shell top that could be removed in warm weather. Whit opened the garage and started walking toward the Range Rover parked behind them in the driveway. He paused when Merritt didn’t follow him right away.
“What?”
Was she gawking?
“Nothing,” she said. “You just didn’t strike me as a three-cars-one-of-which-is-for-joyriding kind of person.”
He smiled.
“I used to just drive the jeep, if you can believe it. I’ve had it for years, and I love it, but then...” He paused again, almost certainly avoiding saying something akin towe got rich. “The Audi was Helen’s idea. It’s electric and just more sensible, especially with all the cold weather we get here. Less—”
“College frat boy?” she said before she could stop herself. It felt good, after Sleeping Beauty, to get a little dig in.
“Wow,” Whit said, making a look of mock disappointment, as if she’d crossed a line.
“Too far?”
He shook his head slowly. “Just, wow.”
Then they both laughed. The bitterness was almost undetectable now.
“But I’ve been driving her old car. The Range Rover. I get the feeling Annie likes it.”
Minutes later, Merritt could see why. They were warm in the spacious SUV with its legroom and couchlike comfort, driving back to town on a side road she hadn’t known about. She wondered if the lemon and lavender scent was from a car wash, or an air freshener, or if it was the last lingering vestige of the woman who’d once driven this car.
“Eleanor Beardsley,” Merritt muttered to herself.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, just talking to myself.”
“Are you guessing the NPR correspondent—”
“Before they say their names, yes.”
“Oh. Neat.”
She gave his shoulder a shove. He smiled to himself, and theydrove on, quiet for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the way his thumb rubbed the steering wheel. She hated that the wordcaresscame to mind, but it did, and part of her wondered whether his reasons for driving this car went beyond his daughter’s preferences.
Whit’s phone rang, and he ignored it, but not before the wordsevie longacre—mobileflashed across the car’s head unit.
“Your mom?”
