This is the most surreal conversation I’ve had in a long time, maybe ever. And that’s saying something. “You’re a matchmaker now? For me?”
“Nope. Jealous rival. Always. Voilà.” She dangles her completed necklace before me from one finger. “My anniversary present to you.”
“Anniversary?”
She stands and slips the necklace over my head, then pulls me to my feet. “We started growing up here. Maybe we’ve finally completed the journey. Maybe we’re grown-ups now.”
“I don’t know about that. But it’s definitely time to put away childish things.”
She studies me for several seconds. Then she nods. “I need to get home. One kiss? Goodbye?” She moves almost imperceptibly toward me. Her eyes seem bottomless, and her lips grow larger, fuller in my sight. Even now, she radiates some mysterious field that draws me to her—
“Something tells me this is not a good idea,” I murmur.
Jet goes still, then smiles and squeezes my hand, letting hers trail off mine as she turns and walks to the door of her Volvo. Watching her climb in, I remember the earrings in my pocket but decide not to stop her. She starts the engine, makes a hard turn, then heads down the overgrown path toward the real world.
Turning back to the barn, I take out the sapphire studs she left in my bathroom as a test to see whether Nadine would find them there. With only the faintest pang of regret, I toss the earrings through the barn door, into the kudzu and poison ivy.
This barn was my refuge from the world, long after I left it physically behind. Jet, too, was a refuge of sorts, a sanctuary from reality, a bubble of childhood in which everything seemed pure and new and the future always bright. We all carry those bubbles within us. But they’re too fragile to bring out into the sun. They’re like my brother’s laugh or my father’s pride. They’re memories.
And the real world awaits.
Acknowledgments
At Writers House: Dan Conaway and Simon Lipskar.
At William Morrow: David Highfill, Liate Stehlik, Tavia Kowalchuk, Danielle Bartlett, Chloe Moffett, and everybody in the sales department—especially the reps!
At HarperCollins U.K.: Julia Wisdom, Charlie Redmayne, and all the team.
My all-hours co-conspirators: Ed Stackler, Jamie Kornegay, and Laura Cherkas.
Writers tend to know a little about everything and a lot about nothing. A novel like this requires the knowledge of many experts. I thank them here, and all mistakes are mine!
James Barnett, for sharing his deep knowledge of Native Americans in the Mississippi Valley. Dr. Chuck Borum, for his knowledge of scouting and Native American customs.
Terry Burkley, for sharing painful details about living with a loved one with Parkinson’s disease.
Richard Grant, an insightful writer, for an outsider’s perspective on Mississippi.
Wade Heatherly, banker, actor, and former rescue swimmer, for great info (and for acting in my son’s movie).
Friends with details: Kevin Cooper, the newspaper business; Scott Slover, attorney; Howard Jones, the lumber business; James Lee, coroner; Dr. Barry Bertolet and Dr. Kellen Jex, medical expertise; Dr. Randy Tillman, aviation; Glenn Green and Mimi Miller, miscellaneous. Terri Aldridge for the last-minute read!
Friends with insights: Courtney Aldridge, Rod Givens, James Schuchs, Kevin Dukes, Billy Ray Farmer.
The loved ones who keep me going: first and foremost my wife, Caroline Hungerford. Madeline Iles, Mark Iles, newcomer Elliot Iles, Geoff Iles, Betty Iles, Dr. Jerry W. Iles, and Nancy Hungerford and Betsy Iles for babysitting Elliot!