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It’s a long time before I can fall asleep.
* * *
The next morning, we eat breakfast with everyone before we leave.
Mom’s hug is extra tight as we’re saying goodbye. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
She searches my eyes. “You know I want you to be happy, right? I want what’s best for you.”
“I know.”
She nods and releases me, reluctantly.
Granny Bea hugs me and then smacks me on the shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger. You better get your ass up here before another year passes. No excuses. I don’t care if you’re a famous rock star, I will have your ass if I don’t see you before next Thanksgiving.”
“Yes, Granny.”
Mindy walks over to give Granny Bea a hug. “I’ll make sure he has time to visit in his touring schedule.”
A gusting laugh trips out of her. “Touring schedule. That almost sounds like you’re legit.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Drive safely.” Mom peers up at the sky. “It looks like rain.”
Once again, I get behind the wheel, this time so Mindy can get some work done.
The sky opens up a mile outside of Corning, so I focus on the road while she taps away on her laptop, dealing with press inquiries, emails, and the graphic designer she hired for the cover and press kit.
We’ve passed through Binghampton when her phone rings.
“Hey, Finley,” she answers.
I turn down the music that had been playing softly in the background and switch lanes to pass a semi.
“Yeah, we’re on our way back. Listen, I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was way out of line, and I intend to apologize to Taylor when I get back.”
There’s silence, just the tap of rain on the windshield while Finley replies.
“Oh, she did? Then maybe when she gets back . . .” she trails off.
I can’t make out Finley’s side of the conversation, only the general cadence of her voice.
“Okay. No, I didn’t forget. Yes, I’ll make sure I’m free.” She glances over at me. “We can talk more when I get back. Yeah, love you, too. Bye.”
They hang up, and she stares out the windshield for a minute, the silence interrupted only by the wipers sliding back and forth every ten seconds, her work forgotten in her lap.
“Is everything all right?”
“Taylor left early this morning to go stay with a friend. She’s coming back, though, before next weekend, because Finley wants us all to go through our dad’s stuff after your show. Piper is going to come back for that weekend, too. Finley thought it would be a good idea for us to clear out his room together.”
I glance over at her. “What do you think?”
Her lips twist. “I’m not sure. I know it’s time. It’s past time. We’ve kept his room like a shrine. He’s been dead for six years.”
“What are you going to say to Taylor?”
