There was a good chance—better than good—that I’d return home with a bit of a bruised heart. And she’d be there to help it heal.
I can do this.
There was no turning back now. The Cadillac had sat in my garage for too long as it was. Maybe it would have been easier if not for the track record with these handoffs. For every trip this Cadillac had taken, one of my friends had found love.
Londyn had met Brooks in West Virginia, thanks to a flat tire.
Gemma had returned to Montana and found Easton waiting.
Katherine and Cash had fallen in love on the sleepy highways between Montana and Oregon.
Aria had come to Arizona and realized the hate she’d harbored for Brody had actually been affection.
I had no delusions that this trip would result in a major life change. I fully expected to be the one woman who returned home single. Months of preparing myself for that reality hadn’t made it easier to swallow.
Yet there was that glimmer of hope I’d buried deep. It mingled with the fear because, unlike my friends, I hadn’t set out into the unknown unsuspecting.
I knew exactly who I was seeking.
Had his smile changed? Did he grin like he used to? God, I hoped so.
I hoped that whatever had happened to Karson in the past twelve years, his smile hadn’t dulled. Because on my darkest nights, when the ghosts escaped their confines at the California border and drifted into Arizona, it was the memory of Karson’s smile that chased them away.
That, and my son.
August stirred, blinking heavy eyelids as he came awake.
“Hey, bud.”
“Are we there yet?”
I gave him a sad smile. “No, not yet. But we’re getting closer.”
He sagged in his seat, his eyes still sleepy and his cheeks flushed. “Mommy?”
“Yeah?” My heart squeezed each time he slipped and called me Mommy. One of his friends at school last year had told August that he called his mom Mom and not Mommy. From that day forward, I’d been Mom except for the rare moments when he was still my baby boy.
“Do you think we can go swimming as soon as we get there?” he asked.
“Probably not right away,” I said. “First we need to stop by my friend’s house. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Is it going to take a long time?”
“No, not too long.”
“Then we can see the ocean, right?”
“Yes, then we’ll see the ocean.”
August yawned but sat straighter. His eyes lost their sleepy haze and his gaze flicked out his window, chasing the sage brush and sand that bordered the interstate. “What do you think is more scary, a shark or a lion?”
This boy would never know how grateful I was for his questions. He’d never know that he kept me grounded. He kept me sane. He kept me going. “That depends. Is it a hammerhead shark or a tiger shark?”
“Hammerhead.”
“A lion.”
He nodded. “Me too.”
The questions continued until the open road clogged with vehicles and the Cadillac was swallowed up in traffic. August was about to come out of his skin by the time we made it to the outskirts of San Diego.
We stopped for lunch and August devoured a well-earned Happy Meal at McDonald’s. Then after a refill at a gas station, we loaded up once more for the drive along the coast. After we passed the city, the Sunday traffic moved in the opposite direction, most people returning home after a weekend trip.
Thirty miles outside of Elyria, the ocean came into view, and I decided to pop off the interstate for a quieter highway that hugged the coast. August’s eyes were wide as he stared at blue water and the waves glittering under the bright July sun.
“Let’s do something fun,” I told August, touching the brake to ease us into a turnout along the road.
“What?” He bounced in his chair, then his jaw dropped when I moved to put the convertible top down. “Cool!”
We both laughed as I pulled onto the road. August’s hands shot into the air, his hair, in need of a cut, tousling in the salt-tinged wind.
He needed sunscreen. He should be wearing sunglasses. But for thirty miles, fun was more important than being the responsible mother every moment of every day. That and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin that smile on his face.
I needed that smile as the nerves crept in, twisting up my insides and making it hard to breathe. So I braced my knee against the wheel and raised my arms. “Woohoo!”
“Woohoo!” August cheered with me.
His laughter was the balm to my soul, and I soaked it in, reminding myself that this was August’s trip too. This was his summer vacation to the ocean, something he could brag about on his first day of first grade this fall.
Vacation. We’d explore the oceanside. We’d shop for souvenirs we didn’t need and eat too much ice cream. We’d have a fun trip, then go home. Brody had volunteered his jet to save August from a two-day return trip in a rental car.
The speed limit dropped as we passed a sign welcoming us to Elyria.
I gulped.
My phone chimed with directions through town toward the address I’d entered days ago. Brightly colored shops lined the main road. A couple crossed the road ahead, each carrying surf boards. Signs for parking areas sprang up every few blocks, directing people toward the beach.
Later I’d explore this charming town, but at the moment I kept my focus forward, listening intently to the navigation. When I turned down a side street, I was so anxious I didn’t bother taking in the neighborhood around us.
Then we were there. Karson’s address. The destination was on our left.
I slowed the Cadillac to a crawl in front of a white stucco house with arched windows and a terra-cotta roof. The tiled walkway to the front door was the same rich, caramel brown as the clay. Two baby palm trees towered over the green yard, and off to the side of the house was a garage.
I pulled around the corner, parking in the driveway. The thunder of my heart was so loud I barely registered August’s question.
“Mom, is this it?”
I managed a nod as I turned off the car and unbuckled my seat belt. Then I stared at the house. How would I make it to the front door? Maybe I should have called first. Karson might not even be home. If not, I guess we’d come back later.
But this was definitely his house. I double-checked the number beside the garage door.
“Can I get out?” August asked, already unbuckling his harness.
“Sure.” I’d need him with me for this.
I climbed out of the car, walking on unsteady legs to his side to help him out. Then with my son’s hand in mine, I stood in the driveway and let the sun warm my face. The sound of the ocean was a gentle whisper on the air. The scent of salt and sea hit my nose.
Aria had lived on the Oregon coast for years, and though the smell was similar, there was something sweeter in the Elyria air.
Karson had always said he wanted to be close to the ocean. He’d wanted to learn how to surf. I was glad he’d gotten that wish.
The sound of a door opening caught my attention and I turned, just in time to watch a tall man with dark hair step outside. A short-trimmed beard shaded his sculpted jaw. He was wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts slung low on his narrow hips. His green T-shirt stretched over his broad chest and clung to the strength in his biceps. His feet were bare.